Every creative person needs an outlet. I’ve told you before how pleased I am that Paul has finally taken up writing again. It’s like he’s finally had an infusion of life into him. He’s a really smart guy, he’s compassionate, full of integrity, and a non-conventional thinker. He is really good at his job. But let’s face it, people don’t really have a passion for human resources. They do it, and they may like it, but no one has a passion for it. I’m not even sure if everyone has a passion. Maybe they do but they don’t know it? Maybe it changes? Maybe they have chosen to live a life repressed? I don’t know. But I do know that Paul is a very creative person, and it is so good to see him writing (and performing) again.
Some people know him so well as father, husband, businessman, that they can’t even imagine him as a comedian. (To them I’d like to offer the reminder that clips of his first show are on my facebook page and they can judge for themselves.) It is those people who have only known him a few years, our most spartan years. The years we lived in survival. It was always a transitional existance, we knew we’d move soon. It was a difficult time, money was never enough to cover our needs (and we had all but forgotten our wants.) We did what was necessary, and skipped out on any luxuries. And somehow the things that had made us who we were, were filed under wants instead of needs, and boxed away in a hope chest for “later.”
It took till month 8 or 9 of unemployment for us to finally turn around. If Paul couldn’t be working, he could at least start writing again, and feel something. And he did. And it felt good. It was like he woke up. He starting making plans again, he started dreaming again. Once he was working he had no problem balancing his time constraints between all his responsibilities, and he has done so joyfully. In the decade plus of our relationship I’ve never seen him manage his time so efficiently.
I took a different path in the first five years that we lived here. I sought to replace my passion with other pursuits. I threw myself into babyworld, certainly not a regret, but I lost all concept of balance in my life which I would later miss. I dabbled in sewing with my yearly Hallowe’en costumes. And I started to crochet. And crochet. And crochet! I even made a fledgling business of it after saving no money and spending hours of extra time on every baby gift from our family. I liked making things and enjoyed having something to do with my hands because I can’t sit still. But I never loved it. It was always a poor substitute for music.
Paul’s got his passion back. He’s currently out every Saturday performing at ACME’s 11pm show. He was even in a commercial this week. He walked in to help out because ACME sent out a call for extras, and the director said, “how would you like some lines?” It’s just for a reel, but if the commercial were to ever get picked up he’ll get a check for saying “blah blah blah.” We don’t know that he’ll ever get paid for his comedy. We live in LA, we know the reality. And while being paid to make people laugh would be a dream come true, that isn’t why he’s doing this. His day job is fulfilling, challenging, and exciting.
I’ve just about stopped crocheting these days, and I try to plan all my projects based on what’s already in my stash so that I’m not adding. It was nice while it lasted, and it served it’s purpose, but it is not my love, my passion. I do not have a piano yet. But I will. I will. And just knowing that makes all my other substitutes pale in comparison.