A Life In the Day of…The Confessions of a Starving Artist

I remember an old saying,”if you wanna make God laugh, tell Him what you have planned for your life.” It was only about 3 months ago that I moved here to Dallas from Detroit; I thought I had it all figured out. After 2 months of living in my car, sleeping in a Walmart parking lot, and sneaking into the middle school where I worked as a custodian to shower before school opened every day, I accepted an invitation to Dallas to start my life over. I was offered an apartment rent free, until I got on my feet and an opportunity to meet people who were making moves in the indie film community. Well, after only a month here I had a job that started me off with decent pay; more than I was making after a year as a custodian and an apartment to call my own; Life was good! That is, until about a week ago when I received a phone call from my landlord telling me that I was being evicted from my apartment because the friend I was giving my rent money to wasn’t actually paying the rent.

Now this is usually the part where I would start naming names and pointing fingers, but– I can’t. Because I realize that there was truly no one to blame but me. I had to see for myself the error of my ways. I put my faith in someone other than God. I am in no way saying that no one can be trusted, but I realize now that you can only trust people to be people. So, here I am…no family…no friends…no car…nowhere to lay my head, but for some reason I’m not afraid. I know that everything we go through in life, good or bad, is for a reason. I know that God is with me. And while I know there will be good days and even more bad ones…God will see me through.   1/24/2013

This passage is not an excerpt from an upcoming novel; It’s not a page from a new screenplay I’m working on. This passage is the first entry from my personal journal. On January 24, 2013 I was officially homeless. A fact that only a handful of people knew; a fact that my family and some of my closest friends will only now find out about after reading this post in my blog.

Six months of my first year living in Dallas, TX were spent on the streets. While I made enough money with my new job to eat and occasionally rent a room at the local Motel 6, I couldn’t afford an apartment and after my recent experience with someone whom I considered a friend, I couldn’t imagine taking any chances subletting from a total stranger. It was at that moment I had a choice to make: Give up and retreat back to Detroit or stay in Texas and accomplish what I came here to do; I chose to stay. Not because I’m brave, not because I knew without a doubt that I would be okay. I chose to stay because I was desperate; desperate to succeed. Desperate for something better. I also knew that if I were to return to Detroit, my life was over.

For six months I held a steady routine: Weekends were the toughest; most Saturdays I rented a room at the Motel 6 and simply slept. Sundays I lived at Starbucks working on my film and writing. During the week I worked from 8-5; the local Wendy’s from 5:30-9 where I ate and worked on my film and writing; and from 9 until the next morning I wandered the streets, searching for anywhere I could lay my head in peace.

Peace–something I took for granted for so long, before now.

The first 3 months were probably the hardest to get through, because everything else aside, the cold kept me from sleeping more than 2-3 hours a night.

I remember it being so cold some nights, I literally walked for hours just to stay warm.

One night I was apparently sleep walking across a busy intersection, it being so long since I had actually slept, and all I remembered was standing, oblivious, in the middle of the street, flashing sirens, and being questioned by the police who told me that I was almost hit by a car. They assumed, understandably, that I was either high, drunk, or both. I finally convinced them that I was in fact sober and they left me to go on my way, but not before warning me that if they saw me again I would be arrested.

This was the first time I broke down and cried. It was also the first time (of many) that I thought about taking my life; I wanted to stop hurting. I wanted to stop struggling. I wanted to die.

I honestly don’t know what it was that stopped me from killing myself; call it fate, call it divine intervention, or just pure stubbornness, but I kept going. For 3 more months, I kept going. I tried the homeless shelters, but because of the fact that I got off of work so late everyday and they only took a limited number of men, I was left out in the cold (literally). Eventually, I found a park nearby my job that was seemingly empty most nights with the exception of the occasional straggler.

For the next 3 months I slept on park benches, bleachers, and the jungle gym, cautious to make sure I was up and at work early enough to bathe in the sink before the rest of the staff got there each day.

Most nights I spent praying, looking to the sky for any hint of God’s presence.

Fast forward almost a year and over a hundred journal entries later and while I’m not where I am “going” to be, I am truly thankful to God for where I am: I have a better job, my own apartment, I have spoken to (and more importantly forgiven my friend), I am on the brink of self-publishing my 1st novel “The Rape Diaries” and in the middle of a fundraising campaign for the short film that I spent those long, lonely nights at Wendy’s working on: “The Monster In My Closet”

Why am I sharing this? Why now; Especially since I have never before been so transparent with my life? Honestly I don’t know.

I have had people who were privy to this dark time in my life have the audacity to call me brave. Some had the nerve to claim that they admired me for what I was doing. I admittedly am far from deserving of any such title. I am in no way brave or admirable for what I went through. Crazy? Perhaps; Desperate? Absolutely! But nothing that I did, nothing about me warrants admiration. Because if faced with the situation again, I honestly believe my decision would be one of cowardice and surrender.

I prayed that God would one day give me the courage to confess this part of my life because I honestly believe that the things we go through in life are not merely for us alone.

I know right now there is someone…somewhere struggling. I know that right now there is someone…somewhere going through, wondering if there is a light at the end of the tunnel. DISCLAIMER:I am no poster boy for righteous living. I am by no means one of God’s favorites, but for some unexplainable reason, He chose to allow me to make it through and I know if He would show favor to a wretch like me, then He would definitely do it for someone else. I pray that somehow, someway my story will find that “someone else” and provide even the slightest glimpse of hope.  I pray that my struggles, my pain, my heartbreak, and my inevitable success will convince that “someone else” that no matter where you are…no matter what you are going through..YOU are CLOSER than you could ever imagine to your BREAKTHROUGH.

These are NOT words from some highly sanctified preacher with the anointing of prophecy; these are NOT the words of some righteous man  of God who has lived a life of strict servitude and adherence to His word; These are NOT the words of a deserving man who has done his best to follow Christ…no. These ARE the words of a man who has lived a continuous life of ups and downs; bad judgements; and while believing in and seeking to strengthen his relationship with Christ has ultimately  done little to deserve God’s favor. So please know that the words I utter are not from a place of vain empathy, but of sincere understanding. You are forever in my prayers…

This blog post is dedicated to all those who (knowingly or unknowingly) kept me going and inspired during this dark period in my life (if I forget you please charge it to my head and not my heart (I swear I tried to name you all): Jesus; Linda & Damieon Ranson; Stacy Reid; Gelita Mimms; Kenyetta Hughes; Gregory Smith; Chris Sutton; Jeremy Brockman; Devin Laster; Dina Peace; Stacey Muhammad; Trina Hughes; Chiquita Tate; Mike & Terry O’Neal; Angel Scott; Valerie KaylaVal; Tinisha Brugnone; Hiram Damwijk; Nichelle Payne; Rochelle Baker; Anna Richardson; Emily Ann-Johnson; Sheree Johnson; Tiffany Marshall; Elaine Flowers; Lorenzo Lollar; Tekeya Bell; Sharice Henry Chasi; M. Legend Brown; Brooke McCoy; Tyler Perry; Christian Knight; Mianna Adufutse; Fredrick Thornton; Keenan Tindle; Wendy Readous; Elizabeth Atkins; William McDowell; Kirk Franklin; Samatha Drane-Smith; TI; Eminem; Joan Morris; Shawntay Dalon; Carmen Adolphus;  Yolanda Brinkley; Kimmy Chappell; Joel Olsteen; Bishop Anthony Claxton; Antoinette Dawson; Robyn Peoples; Fallon Marie; James Drane; Tiana Bonner; Albany Williams; Tiffany Price; Benita White; Cynthia Peete-Frailey; Jahimnah Harris; Linda Council; Tiffany Bargainer; Roxanna S. Brown; Jamaine & MarquitaBurrus; Chico Pye; Tanisha Stanley; Angela Mapp; Sheryl Brown; Nikki Marie; Ava DuVernay; Denise Drane (my mommy); Willie Rodgers (RIP); The Johnson/Drane Clans & the one Ponder (La Familia); Tishonah Johnson (my baby girl)

Link

Detroit: A Love Letter

We are so excited to partner with the Dear Detroit: A Love Letter campaign hosted by Indiegogo. This film is close to our hearts because access4artists was founded in Detroit.

We interviewed the writer/director Malcolm Johnson to get an inside look into this project. Make sure you check out the campaign and donate!

Determination: A Fool’s gold?

de·ter·mi·na·tion [dih-tur-muh-ney-shuhn] the quality of being determined to do or achieve something.

     Never have I understood better than I do now, the struggles of being an Independent filmmaker. Especially living in a city where there is seemingly no established infrastructure that exists for the film industry. In a city where so many speak of change, but when the time comes to put away the petitions, protest signs, and angry social media rhetoric & inspiring quotations and actually crawl into the trenches, those same people are nowhere to be found. In a city that once boasted some of the greatest entertainers/artists of our time.

    Perhaps I’m a little bitter. Perhaps I am frustrated. Or perhaps I have been so blinded by my own ambitions to affect and inspire change in my dilapidated city, that I refuse to face the realities I am now forced face to face with. “No one cares.”

     For the last two months I have been actively promoting & soliciting contributions for my docu-drama film “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” and with two weeks remaining in the Indiegogo campaign I am no closer to reaching the $25,000 goal. Perhaps it was naive of me to believe that people actually cared about the making of a film that, unlike the numerous documentaries that have exploited the negativity and ugliness of Detroit, {many produced by people who do not and/or have never lived in the city of Detroit} hoped to inspire change and breath new life into Motown, showing the beauty of Detroit.

     It’s ironic to me when I think about how many people were outraged at the inability of millionaire, Hollywood Producer George Lucas to secure funding from major Hollywood studios for his film “Red Tails.”  Every social media website was littered with angry rants and raves from people demanding that we all rush to the theatres to support his film. Yet I see so many Indie Filmmakers struggling to make their first film, get passed by or even worse, taunted {myself included}, for soliciting the help of the general public via crowd-funding sites like Kickstarter and Indiegogo, etc. Lord knows I have lost count of the numerous negative responses to my requests for help with the funding of my feature length docu-drama.

     I have to be honest, I have no idea where I’m going with this. Perhaps, in a moment of spiritual weakness, I just needed to vent. Maybe I am finally ready to admit that I am slightly shaken by the possibility of not reaching our goal to get this film made. Or maybe, just maybe I am fed up with people who only give when it benefits them. Maybe it’s all of these things…I don’t know; But what I DO know is that I have never been more inspired! I have never been more determined then I am now. And with that being said, I am now reaching out to my fellow Independent artists and bloggers for help. No matter who you are…no matter what City, State, or Country you reside in– “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” needs your help. I need your help. Please visit the link: http://www.indiegogo.com/Dear-Detroit-A-Love-Letter  & CONTRIBUTE to the making of our Indie film. {Perks given dependent on the size of your contribution…}

PS — Thank you for allowing my soul to vent. Peace & Blessings.

Link

CLICK HERE to SUPPORT INDIE!!!

NEVER has there been a film about Detroit, made by actual Detroiters, in a docu-drama style, that shares the intimate experiences of actual Detroiters intertwined with inspiring, character-driven, narrative shorts & highlights the positive side of Motown; Isn’t it about time there was? If you are a supporter of Detroit, Indie Film, the Arts in general {or none of the above} PLEASE visit the link & CONTRIBUTE to the making of our independent film.

No A-List ‘Hollywood’ Actors. No big-budget Hollywood Studio backing. No Special Effects. No Famous Hollywood Screenwriter/Director. Just an Indie Film Producer & Writer/Director (who have won a couple of awards)asking for your help. No matter who you are…no matter where you are from you can HELP us reach our goal…HELP us restore the image of Motown. We have 29 Days to raise $24,765. Piece of cake!!! {FAITH}

SYNOPSIS:

“Dear Detroit: A Love Letter”: A struggling artist who must choose between chasing his own dreams or the dreams his girlfriend has for him; a man attends court-ordered therapy after suffering an emotional breakdown; a tom-boyish, young girl comes to the rescue of a boy, being harassed by schoolyard bullies; A mother & her two sons come together to get affairs in order for their dying husband/father; Love at first sight on the people mover. A photographer caught in a love triangle with a beautiful young woman & her lover; A carjacker who has a sudden change of heart.

The Road to Production is Paved with Good Intentions. The Making of “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter”

It seemed only days ago, when my creative partner and Producer, Gregory Smith and I birthed the concept for what would become our first feature-length film, the docu-drama, “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter.”

After a long, somewhat grueling pre-production meeting for our short film “The 1st Time I Committed Suicide,”  we found ourselves at a local bar {the birthplace of many of our creative ideas.} After our second or fourth round of single malt scotch he began to express, quite colorfully, his utter disdain for the negative media exposure of our city which once proudly boasted the deemed Motown. Clueless of where this slightly inebriated discussion was headed, my quasi genius friend had a revelation; “We should make a documentary that shows the positive side of Detroit.”

Immediately, what followed was a series of brainstorming notes scribbled on cocktail napkins and celebratory high fives. And in a brief moment of sobriety, the extinguished light bulb hovering above my head illuminated; “Instead of a traditional documentary, why not an eclectic mix of narrative short films intertwined with testimonials from real Detroiters sharing a single moment–an intimate experience that caused them to fall in love with the city. It was at that very moment, “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” was born.

The next couple of months found our concept simmering on the back burner as we persevered the typical trials and tribulations of our short film production starring a brilliant local actress, Carmen Adolphus.

After some much needed R&R and the footage from our short film patiently awaiting post-production, it was time to turn the heat up on “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” The foundation was laid and the stories scribed that best embodied the true essence of Detroit:

The struggling artist forced to choose between his emasculating girlfriend and his own ambitions; A man forced to undergo court-ordered therapy after a psychotic breakdown; A young girl comes to the aid of a boy being harassed by schoolyard bullies;  The carjacker stricken with a conscience after a startling revelation; The mother and her two sons scramble to get the affairs of her dying husband in order; Love at 1st sight on the people mover.

Next came location scouting for what would become “The Psychiatrist Office”; fortunately I had the perfect location in mind.

I am reminded of an old saying, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him what you have planned for your life.”

The ‘perfect’ location we had selected for the film proved to be ‘not-so-perfect’ at the cost of $2,500 per day {for a four day production}. This was approximately $9,999 than were were realistically able to spend at the time. I must confess, the whole ordeal of “The Psychiatrist Office” nearly forced me to seek therapy. However, just as quickly as that door closed {slammed} in our face, another quickly opened.

A dear friend and fellow Director Tinisha Brugnone put me in touch with a colleague of hers who just so happened to be a restaurant owner and supporter of the Michigan Film Industry. He was more than willing to allow us unlimited access to his establishment for our short “The Restaurant Scene” for the Indie Film special price of: FREE.

Now came the  always tedious task of casting the talent.

The role of Elizabeth was reserved for the phenomenal star of our short film “The 1st Time I Committed Suicide,” Carmen Adolphus. {She is after all, the DiCaprio to my Scorsese.}

The role of Malik was earned by my brilliant Detroit, by way of New York, Casting/Art Director Devin Laster; ironically , a struggling artist himself.

Perhaps the most difficult task was finding the actress who would fill the shoes of Donna, the sassy restaurant waitress.

After days of sifting through countless head shots, failed impromptu casting calls, and weeping into my pillow, I discovered an inexperienced, yet talented, diamond in the rough, Deborah Claybaugh.

Fast forward past several months of production meetings, script reads & rewrites, camera tests, blocking rehearsals, wardrobe fittings, production, and mini-strokes and “The Restaurant Scene” was a wrap and patiently waiting to be sculpted into our first completed short for “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter.”

With imported beers in hand, my brilliant Editor and I spent countless hours cutting, trimming, yelling, and debating as we pieced together the trailer for our anxiously awaited fundraising campaign on the crowd-funding site Indiegogo with the intentions of completing production of the film over the summer.

Now comes the moment of truth. Our fundraising campaign was launched with the the goal of $25,000 in order to secure the locations, permits, and equipment rentals for finishing production on our film.

Two weeks and endless days/nights of non-stop promoting and soliciting later, we are far from our goal. Ironically, our largest contributor thus far does not even reside in Detroit.

If there is one lesson my past experiences has taught me, it’s that faith and perseverance are two of the most important attributes an Indie filmmaker must posses in order to survive in this industry {that and a massive stockpile of coffee and five hour energy drinks}.  Luckily, I have been blessed with all of the above.

I refuse to allow the possibility of failure to hinder my success.

If you support: Indie Film, Detroit, the Arts in general, all of the above, or none of the above, please CLICK HERE and contribute to the making of our feature length film.

Dear Detroit: A Love Letter (Trailer)

Please visit link & contribute to the production of this Indie Film:

http://www.indiegogo.com/Dear-Detroit-A-Love-Letter?a=108510

SYNOPSIS: “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” is so much more than a film. It is an inspirational, cinematic confession of an unconditional love that exists for our city, despite her woes.. It shares the most intimate experiences & memories told by real Detroiters. These testimonials, intertwined with an eclectic mix of narrative short films, symbolic of our city & her occupants, who call Detroit home: A struggling artist who must choose between chasing his own dreams or the dreams his girlfriend has for him; a man attends court ordered therapy after suffering an emotional breakdown; a tom-boyish, young girl comes to the rescue of a boy, being harassed by schoolyard bullies; A mother & her two sons come together to get affairs in order for their dying husband/father; Love at first sight on the people mover. A photographer caught in a love triangle with a beautiful young woman & her lover; A carjacker who has a sudden change of heart

Link

Dear Detroit: A Love Letter (Where is the love???)

   One day into fundraising for my next film Dear Detroit: A Love Letter & I am already,officially, dazed & confused. Between the empty promises of supporting to the obviously blatant, irrelevant remarks in regard to the film I find myself in a state of constant fear that, NO ONE GETS ME!!!  This, I guess, is the life of a struggling artist. I find myself questioning (as I’m sure every artist has) whether or not this is truly my calling.

     I know, it is far too early to be stressing and questioning my direction in life. But sometime, I find it uncanny, some of the responses I receive in my quest to make “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter’ more than a pile of unproduced scripts and legal pad development notes. I am reminded of Spike Lee in almost every interview he has done in his references to not finding the support to get his films made. Then I ask myself: If Spike Lee is going through this, how the hell will I ever accomplish this???

     I guess this is why it’s called: FAITH…Anyway, thank you for allowing me to vent (So much more to come.) Oh, by the way, PLEASE visit the link & contribute to my independent film Dear Detroit: A Love Letter. (You don’t have to be from Detroit to support. So please SUPPORT). Thank you (in advance). Peace & Blessings.

The Calm Before the Storm

Ask any film Director what the most stressful, most nerve wrecking, most challenging part of the film-making process is and you are almost guaranteed to get a single, two-syllable word: FUN-DING {Don’t let the word fool you, there is nothing “FUN” about it}. That is, unless your name is James Cameron or Steven Spielberg. Unfortunately for me, my name isn’t worthy to be spoken in the company of the before-mentioned (at least for now) . My name is Malcolm X. Johnson and I am asking for your help. Please click on the link and contribute to the making of my feature film “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter”

No matter what your profession or discipline as an artist, be it photographer, novelist, film director, playwrite, professional blogger, etc. we all know the frustrations of having a story to tell, but no viable outlet {or major Hollywood Production Studio} CLICK HERE TO SUPPORT Dear Detroit: A Love Letter

Dear HuffPost Detroit: The Moment I Knew, That You Knew… That I Loved Detroit

Dear Huffpost Detroit:

“The moment I knew that I Loved Detroit,” is when I read an article you published on March 5, 2012 at 2:03pm. The brilliantly crafted piece, written by your Detroit Staff, expressed an exuberance unparalleled in which you asked for the beautiful people of Detroit to submit videos {via: You Tube or Vimeo, 30-60 seconds in length} expressing  (brilliantly enough) “The Moment I Knew I Loved Detroit” in support of your {and I quote} “Exciting new project”! I truly believe this to be a brilliant and unquestionably, phenomenal idea. The infinite display of unique creativity you exhibit in allowing Detroiters a platform in which to express their unfailing love for a dying city is, to say the least, GENIUS!!! {I’ll take ‘Pulitzer Prize Winning Ideas’ for $1,000 Alex} …*APPLAUSE*…*APPLAUSE*

Wait…what’s that Lassie…Someone posted an almost identical project TWO DAYS EARLIER?!?! Are you sure girl?! What’s that you say?! New Harlem Renaissance Production’s film “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” and the link to their Company Facebook Page is below for me to click on and verify that???

http://www.facebook.com/pages/New-Harlem-Renaissance-Productions/223438824339656

As an Independent filmmaker, especially an Independent Filmmaker from Detroit, I am sure that there are many who can relate and empathize with the hard truths of being a struggling artist {Be it a Painter, Poet, Novelist, etc.}. On WordPress alone, I have read numerous blogs (testimonials) from Writers/Directors/Producers, who on a daily basis, pour their hearts and souls into their craft. Not for the fame and the fortune, although hopeful. We do this because we are PASSIONATE about what we do.

We struggle with the B.S. 9-5 jobs as: waiters/waitresses, janitors, customer service reps, security guards, and countless other dead-end jobs, not because we want to, but because we need to. We as a collective, lack the infinite resources of a Lionsgate or Paramount Studios; Our names don’t carry the weight of a James Cameron or a Tyler Perry; Our spoils aren’t tucked away in tax-sheltered accounts in the Cayman Islands. Most days, we are stressing about where our next meal will materialize from; or how we will pay the rent next month.

Despite this, we persevere. We push for that next great script. We stand on our low-budget production sets with sub par lighting and often nothing to fill the crafty table aside from bottled water, chewy granola bars, and peppermints. And do you know why we do this? Anyone? We do it because it is in our blood…in the deepest dwellings of our minds is a creative voice that yearns for volume; Demands to be heard! We didn’t choose to be artists. The arts chose US!

And at the end of the day, when we have bled our last drops of creative blood. When the set is wrapped and we have returned the often, borrowed equipment; when the canvas is hung; or the typed pages of the final chapters of our book are tucked away under our pillows for safekeeping, there are no ticker tape parades; no Paparazzi standing impatiently outside to snap a picture; no Hollywood Agents waiting to offer us that deal we have been waiting our entire lives for…no. There is only a sense of pride. A sense of completion that overwhelms us. There is only that little creative voice in our heads that whispers gently into our ears “Well done.” And then…it’s over. Until that voice awakens us from our sleep with that next creative epiphany.

And just like a bad dream we awaken in the realities of our somewhat miserable existence that we are all to anxious to evade. Yet…we persevere. We push on because we know we are one Chapter, one Brushstroke, One Dolly-Shot away from “Success”

This is the true journey of an artist, but that journey can sometimes be delayed by others who lack the drive, the creativity, the originality to do what we do. It is the lack of respect for what we do that causes that small percentage of people who refuse to put in the time, effort, and thought process that make our journey more difficult than it was ever meant to be. It is that small percentage (HuffPost Detroit) that add, unnecessarily,  to the struggles of an already struggling artist. And while there is no intellectual property claim that can be placed on ideas, there is a such thing as Integrity. Respect. Originality.

To take an idea, already in development, from an artist who has released it into the public forum (2days prior) and manipulating it and claiming it as your own “Flash of Genius” is equivalent to taking a mother’s newborn child, giving that child your last name, and calling it your son or daughter; after she has carried that child in her womb for 9 months and spent hours persevering the labors of childbirth.

Dear Detroit: A Love Letter; Produced by Blue Red & Grey Productions and New Harlem Renaissance Productions, will NOT fail. Despite your best efforts to clone our ideas and make them your own as opposed to exercising a level of integrity and originality. We may not have the massive funding,resources, or wide audience of a popular online newspaper such as yours, but what we DO have, now, more than ever, is a passion and determination to make our voices heard. What we DO have is an unfailing and unconditional love for OUR CITY of Detroit.

And THIS  IS “The Moment I Knew I Loved Detroit …”

PS This post is in response to a project that HuffPost Detroit initiated on the 5th of March, 2 days after the “original” idea/project was posted on the Company Facebook Page for New Harlem Renaissance Productions for our upcoming film “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter” A film  for which the short film “The Restaurant Scene” starring Devin Laster, Carmen Adolphus, and Deborah Claybaugh. Produced by Gregory Smith & Written/Directed by: Malcolm X. Johnson (yours truly) is already in post production.  Read their article. Visit our page (at the link above)..”LIKE”…and decide for yourself.

Striking the Set

     As I sit here, attempting to drown out my thoughts with an extremely loud dose of Audioslave and Curtis Mayfield, reviewing the dailies and gnashing my teeth at every overexposed shot {they are plentiful}, I can’t help but ponder the question “What am I doing wrong?”

     A MONTAGE of memories, both good and bad, projecting in my mind at 24fps. Let anyone else tell it, and most will gladly, I am so far left of perfect, I could never be right. I have so many flaws, no amount of concealer would ever be enough to cover them all. I am so emotionally scarred…well ok, I think you get the point. I know that we had recently gone through some really trying times together in such a short amount of time, but I thought for sure we would survive them. Because that’s what l?ve does for you– it gives you strength, hope, and assurance, right? Right?? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know man cannot live on bread alone, but I truly thought that it would be enough to sustain us until the storm passed.

     It’s not often, hell, I NEVER spill my heart out in a public forum like this for the whole world {and by that, I mean all 2 of my followers}} to witness. Unless I was writing another book of poetry, but my ascot and beret wearing; coffee shop dwelling; discussing the plight of the black man days are long behind me {although I must confess, I do miss that ascot}. Yet, I digress. My point is that I felt compelled on this day, to share with you, the source of my all too familiar sorrows. To quote a character in my favorite film:

     “Fallin’ in love is easy, It’s stayin’ in love that’s so go*damn hard!”  – Savon, Love Jones, 1997.

     Have you ever been in l?ve? I mean, really in l?ve?! Have you ever l?ved so hard, it hurt like Hades to even imagine your life absent of their presence?

     First PLOT POINT: {for all of my fellow screenwriters}, Have you ever found out that the l?ve you thought you were receiving in return for yours wasn’t real? Like a bad dream sequence, you wake up to find it wasn’t real; No satisfactory explanation…No real closure? And now you are questioning and doubting everything you were ever told.

     Second PLOT POINT: Despite all of that, despite all that you know and feel, you try hard to force yourself back to sleep to experience the dream sequence one last time? Knowing in your heart that this time will be different– Wishing you had taken the blue pill instead of the red one. This, my faithful followers, is how I feel about her. I pledged my heart and soul to her. Even through the rain and the storm, my soul never wandered away from her. I never, since the inception of our l?ve, contemplated the thought of another. Yet, my faults and mistakes aside, she has abandoned our covenant. And as angry as I want to be…I can’t be. The hurt is heavy on my heart, but my love for her is too strong.But I guess even that wasn’t reason enough for her to truly love me back.

     So this, is the Martini shot. I am striking the set. Wrapping the talent and crew. Conducting final checks before the location is officially wrapped. I have decided that from this day forward, no matter what or where the production, my heart will be operated at the highest F-stop.

     So, if you are reading this beautiful {although I truly doubt it} just know, I will now and forever l?ve you with all my heart and soul; you are now and forever, a permanent resident of my heart. Thank you– for making me a better man. I pray that you can one day forgive me for not being able to give you the l?ve that you truly deserve. Goodbye Detroit, I will miss you.

 

P.S.  CONFESS your undying love for what many consider a dying city. UPLOAD your 1 min. (or less) video (via webcam, etc.) expressing your love for the city of Detroit. Videos selected will appear in one of our upcoming trailers and possibly the closing credits for our upcoming film “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter.” It’s simple, record a video (head-shot) telling us why you love Detroit, end it with the phrase: “Dear Detroit, I love you”; Upload your video to YouTube; E-mail the link to your video to: new_harlem@yahoo.com, along with your FULL NAME, PHONE #, and OCCUPATION in the body of the e-mail. If selected, you will receive a release form for the rights to use your video. SHOW YOUR SUPPORT for our film, “Dear Detroit: A Love Letter,” but more importantly, for the city of DETROIT. LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD. Not just for OUR CITY, but for THE WORLD to hear!!!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/New-Harlem-Renaissance-Productions/223438824339656