the mime - part three

Posted: October 21, 2016

Part Three

The two girl led the way once they all exited from the underground tunnels and soon found themselves entering a quaint coffee shop.  This gave Tanner the chance to escape for some much needed privacy inside the shop’s restrooms.

Once he closed and locked the door he rushed to the mirror.  Peering at his reflection in hopes to find an answer, the young man could only see his normal makeup.  Nothing gave way to those unusual events that had led him this far.  He could not explain how he took down that thief on the subway, how he could not speak, or how he pulled a mysterious rose from his pocket.  He laid down his bag, rolled up his sleeves, and began washing the white from his face.

Down the drain in a spiral went the cover of Tanner’s true face.  Suddenly his heart began to beat strongly in his chest.  It was a feeling he couldn’t explain.  His breath was lost and he longed to be covered again behind that mask.

He dried his face and after looked through his bag for the jar which held the white makeup.  He bought the jar from a typical costume place he found, called Playtime Dress.  Examining the jar from every angle, he read all the words carefully in case he missed something.  He would not be surprised he there was some magical inscription.  Nothing was found.

The only thing he realized was the date on the bottom.  That day the jar had become…

expired.

-Beck

https://www.facebook.com/suzannebeckintheopen/

the mime - part two

Posted: October 20, 2016

Part Two

This action alone caused the young entertainer to stand to his feet.  What put the idea of apprehending the questionable thug into this lady’s head was beyond him.  All he knew was he had to help now.  Trusting that everything could possibly go wrong, Tanner took a step in their direction, selfless and helpless.

Ali had pushed open the man’s jacket in hopes to find her friend’s missing item, but was shocked to find nothing.  The inside of his long coat contained a button down shirt tucked into pleated pants, one size too large.  A belt held them in place.

This confused Ali immediately, and she glanced up at the man, who returned her brash actions with an indubitably sour complexion.

“No, that can’t be.  Where is it?  I saw you put it inside your coat.  Look here you have pockets in here,” the blonde started to reach into one of the many pockets that lined the inside.

This immediately agitated the man, who began to take some action of his own.  The man, grabbed her wrist and flicked it away quickly and closed his coat apprehensively, then spoke, “Hey, you need to back off lady, or you will be sorry,” pointing a finger in her face.

This all happened about the time Tanner came to place himself between the two parties.  He froze in his spot once he realized the size of the man.  The supposed thief stood taller once Tanner made his challenge.  This was going to hurt.

The man yelled, “What is this?  Get out of my way, you stupid mime.  What are you going to do?  Make a pretend wall?”

The next few seconds happened so fast that Tanner couldn’t even quite remember it all.  The man went to push Tanner aside and resume the confrontation with Ali, but Tanner instinctively put two hands up, raising one hand before the other, like he had been doing all day.  Closing his eyes tight, Tanner only heard a loud bang and then a cheer from the girls behind him and from the crowd of people around him in the subway car.

Opening his eyes, he looked down to see the man, at his feet.  The shady man looked upset, but he was down.  Tanner smiled at the crowd and, like an entertainer, gave a quirky bow.  He contemplated blowing a few kisses to his audience, but instead lifted his hat, placed it on the ground for a few tips.  Then he reached to the man, opened up the coat, and retrieved for the stolen item.

Silently he smiled at the brunette and in a playful way handed her what was taken.

Ali rolled her eyes and said, “Listen, you aren’t in Central Park.  Enough with the theatrics.”

The blushing girl answered Ali’s rude remark as she closed her bag, “Oh leave him alone, he is just doing what comes natural.  And when you are in that kind of makeup… well, I can understand staying in character.  But the way you hit that guy, I am impressed.  You don’t look like the type to throw a punch.”

Tanner just smiled, happy for their attention.

With a girlish kick to the man on the ground, Ali spit out a few words.

She is like a guard dog for this beautiful princess. Tanner thought.

“Listen, my name is Dee, and this is Alison.  Do you wanna get coffee real quick.  So I can thank you?”

Tanner choked in his throat.  He tried very hard to say, “Yes, yes, yes!  A thousand times, yes!”  The words could not come out.  He couldn’t even cough.  His throat was dry and unable to move.

A laugh came from Dee, “Oh man, Ali, he is so dedicated!  I like that, I like that a lot.  Listen, I don’t wanna mess you up.  Let’s go to a shop I know, you can wash up there.  Then we can talk.”

Without even thinking first, Tanner reached into his pockets, and pulled out a deep red rose.  He handed it to his lady.

Where did that come from? Tanner questioned himself, for the rose he never placed in his pocket.  It seemed to come from nowhere but his mind.

-Beck

https://www.facebook.com/suzannebeckintheopen/

the mime

Posted: October 19, 2016 

Part One

Tanner Pitch, a young man of habit, found himself in the most unusual of lifestyles.  Thankfully for him, the way home to his tiny apartment started out the same way as any other night besides the fact he decided today that he would keep his makeup on.  The makeup might help him earn a few extra dollars which he so desperately needed.

He was travelling inside a subway car below the city of New York.  The little car carried fewer passengers at this time of night.  The comparison was staggering to the massive amount of morning commuters when he began his usual day at his work.  His work involved entertainment.

When he first moved to New York City, Tanner’s big plans were quickly crushed after his funds for acting classes no longer existed.  Life in the ‘Big Apple’ became a burden and he desired very much to escape back to the life he once knew.

Out of boredom from the game he played, he lifted his head from his phone to look around.  About fifteen women, and ten men surrounded him.  Two young women, talking and laughing near the back end of the car, caught his attention.  They both were very attractive.  One blonde and the other brunette.  The brunette’s eyes were clear and bright.  Deep brown.  He couldn’t help but stare.

The blonde noticed his unwarranted attention and glared angrily back at him.  He couldn’t hear what she spoke, but he got the idea.  Reading her lips, he made out a, “What are you looking at?”

Dropping his head quickly in embarrassment, he acted busy on his phone.  After a few moments, he stole another glance at the two, just to see the brown headed girl.  They were back in conversation.  He lost their interest just as quickly as he had gained it.

That was New York for you.  Nobody cared about anyone else, especially on the subway.  They all were jam packed into this tiny metal coffin flying through lighted tunnels, and nobody cared about anyone except themselves.  Tanner cared for nobody either.  His parents were killed not just three months before.  He had no siblings, no grandparents, and all his aunts and uncles lived out of state and out of mind.

This arrangement seemed to please him.  He felt alone, but to him, the freedom helped keep his head clear.  The goal he set for himself was about a year away.  Gather enough money and escape to a suburb outside of the city.  He needed a car and a better job, all in good time.  For now, he would go to the best tourist spots, and perform as best he could for the dollars that would support him through the summer.

Tanner wanted to get lost again in his game, but he heard commotion coming from the back of the car.  The blonde was shouting rather loudly at another passenger.  The brunette was standing back looking shocked and almost afraid.  The young man looked around to see if anyone else was taking noticed.  A few were looking in their direction, but no one intervened.

He heard the blonde yell wildly, “No, I saw you!  You took that right out of my friend’s bag!  Give it back!  I saw you!”

The man, who wore an unusual choice of a long trench coat for the beginning of summer, raised his hands in defense, “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady.  I’m just minding my business like everyone else.”

“You brushed up against her!  I saw you take it as plain as day!  You are a –”

“Ali, please, it’s ok.  I got everything,” the brunette interrupted her friend.

Ali, the blonde, could not except this for an answer.  She was as bold and daring as it came.  Without a second thought she grabbed the man’s coat and opened it up to reveal what was inside.

-Beck

https://www.facebook.com/suzannebeckintheopen/

Climbing the Walls

Posted: October 18, 2016

Now that I have brought up just three problems a writer will face when creating something great, I will express my own ideas on how to overcome these blockades.  I am still new at writing.  It will be quite some time when I can say to my readers that I am well-seasoned.  Let me give it a few weeks.  Just kidding!  In fact, my ways of overcoming distractions, sad emotions, and time wasting might be quite different from that of a more experienced writer.  But I will try.  We are all human.  Everyone is different.  New ways and tactics to overcoming procrastination are certainly welcome to me.  If you feel you want to add any ideas or thoughts on how you overcome idleness, please feel free to comment.  Please share your mind with others and myself on this website as well as Facebook.  (link at the bottom)

The first question, “How can one stop these distractions?”, is not an easy one.  Many folks would instantly say, the best way to stop a distraction, is to eliminate it.  I say embrace it!  If you were walking along a road, suddenly a wall was to appear before you, yes, you could whip out a bomb from your back pocket, much like Link in one of my favorite video games: Zelda.  The way would become clear and you could go on your merry way.

Life is not like that.  How can artists, like our beautiful selves, just whip out a bomb and destroy our lives?  Our lives are important to us, distractions and all.  We cannot disrupt our lives for the sake of our art.

Instead of eliminating the distractions, embrace that wall and climb over it.  The climb might be invigorating.  Finding a way to climb over is finding a way to work with the distractions.  Let me give you an example of my own personal life.  Right now as I write this sentence, my son is telling me of some adventure he is having.  It has taken some practice, but I am able to continue with no problem.  I have embraced it.  Again, yesterday, my laundry, cell phone ringing, and family members coming and going, was very hard to ignore, but I was able to overcome the many things that were pulling my attention away from writing.

If you try eliminating everything from your life, you will find that you will have nothing left, and no reason to create your work.  Human connection is everything, don’t get rid of them.  Writing should become like breathing in your life.  Let those around you become use to the fact you will always have a pen and paper.  Let them feel comfortable with your tap-tapping away at a computer.

Second question: “Who can work on something they love, when they feel like the world is crushing in around them?”  This is question I find myself always asking.  How can one work like this?  Tired, sad, feelings of desperation, anxiety are many items artist and writers face.

Again, I think the idea of eliminating and destroying is a mistake, as a writer especially.  Embracing is the best thing you can do in this situation.  I often enjoy desperate emotions, because I can experience the feelings.  All writers should have some character in their stories that is struggling.  Whether it comes from the main character or the antagonist, there is a struggle.  It is human nature to feel upset from time to time.  How can a writer tell of feelings, if they have not experienced them for themselves?

One of my favorite artist is Van Gogh.  Oh, I love him.  I wish very much to have met him.  He was probably as awkward and socially strange as it gets.  He was the most unusual of men.  Even to other painters of the time, he was odd.  Van Gogh embraced his emotions (and madness) and created masterpieces one after another.  He did it for the sake of art.  He saw the beauty in the world, and even in his desperate state he could not help himself.  I advise very strongly that every writer and/or artist of every walk of life find a role model like Van Gogh and learn from them.  Of course you are your own person, and two ear are better than one!  Take from others around you, be encouraged, and embrace the emotions, they make you who you are!  (Even if you don’t like that person all the time.)

Lastly, the question of “Who wants to spend time on art, when they are happy doing other things?” is the hardest one to answer.  We only have 24 hours in one day.  I don’t think I know one adult, in this busy world, who wished we had less than that.  I’m constantly wishing for more time.  Not only is the day too short, so is the week, so is the weekend, so is the month, and the year, and before you know it, boom, nursing home.  My how time flies when you are having fun.

Self-discipline is the best answer for this question.  I have recently adopted the saying, “If you can’t find time, make it.”  It is a lot harder than you think, but I always can make some.  Time is something I greatly cherish.  I want to spend it wisely, but often don’t.  I’m human.  Netflix and Facebook.  What can I say?  They are so much fun.  Why would I want to spend hours typing and thinking when I can mindlessly watch Columbo, or playing on my phone.

If you want to achieve your goals and want to see things happen in your life, you must prioritize.  Think on what is important.  24 hours is all that has been given us.  We can only do so much.  When we get the chance to look back and see what we have done in our short lives.  Will we be happy with how we wasted the given time by playing candy crush, checking Facebook, and watching TV or will we be happy with time spent with family and doing the things we love?  Love your art, love those who love your art too.  Spend your fleeting time on what is truly important.

Thank you for reading.  I greatly hope that these thoughts have helped you.  Remember to share your thoughts here or on Facebook so others can be enlightened!

-Beck

https://www.facebook.com/suzannebeckintheopen/

Blockade!

The past few weeks have been very enlightening.  I have learned things about myself, that as a writer, I never knew.

I always figured procrastination to be my greatest enemy when it comes to my work, but now I am thinking differently these days.  I am not as hesitant and neglecting in other areas of my life, so why then, is it so hard for me to get to the computer, and write.

As for you my readers, think about yourself.  Look at your own outlet.  If it is writing, then this post will be right up your alley.  If your inspired outlets involve music, gardening, painting, or any other creative hobby in which you have to create, hopefully you will get something out of this.

I want to look at how we, as creators of art, can be so excited and thrilled over a project or idea, but then suddenly lose our willpower and drive.  Let’s look first at the problems.  Then tomorrow I will come up with some solutions we can use to battles these creative blockers.

Problem One:  Distractions

As I am writing this current blog, I cannot count the times that I have been distracted away from my computer screen.  Since I am a mother and wife, I have responsibilities to my house and son.  This is just one of many distractions that come.

We as artists have no problem coming up with distractions of our own.  Netflix is a major downfall for myself.  Even reading can pull one away from the process of creating.  Just life in general is one big distraction.  Our minds wander off into the wonderful land of stress.  We think about our relationships, finances, the future, transportation, jobs, and the list could go on.  It seems as though our brains and lives are setup to completely stop what we truly want to accomplish.  Deep down inside, we desire so much to make something great, but we get in the way of own selves.
How can one stop these distractions?

Problem Two:  Sad Emotions

Most artist, especially musicians, are extremely emotional.  Recently I have realized something about myself, that I never quite looked into before.  I could not for the life of me figure out why I was a happy-go-lucky person for two weeks out of the month, and the other two, well let me just say, I am a darkened damsel of doom.  I have self-diagnosed myself to have pmdd.  (I am not going to go into it, because we all have google, and I figure you can look that up yourself.)  I will be getting my doctor’s diagnosis later on, but since it is not a pressing matter, I am not too worried.  It is something I must live and I am not the type to take pills anyway.  If you are a woman, then you know all too well, the way hormones can affect your thinking, reactions, and emotional levels.  If you are a man, I am not ruling you out.  Men have feelings too!  Just hidden deep inside, I think.  Emotions can hold back any creativity that is trying to poke through.  It is enough to make one cry!

Who can work on something they love, when they feel like the world is crushing in around them?

Problem Three:  Happy Emotions with a Time Limit

Coffee, song running through your head, skip in your walk?  Sounds like a wonderful start to a productive day!  The world is yours to conquer.  For me, I love waking up happy.  I have a list in my head of all the things I want to do.  I get so excited.  My energy is high, my heart it light.  But then it hits.  It hits so soft I don’t even realize it happened.  My happy emotions take me back to the first problem: distractions.  I go out with my husband, we enjoy a day together.  I start listening to music, dancing with my son.  I recently spent a whole morning and afternoon playing Legos.  This may seem like a blessing and wonderful thing to most.  Yes, it is a beautiful thing.  To be able to spend time with the family and to be happy with the time you have.  But that is the thing.  As a creator, as a writer, time is a precious commodity.  Depending on your writing skills and how fast you write, just two hours can get you a few pages.  Also editing loves eating up those fleeting minutes.

Who wants to spend the time on art, when they are happy doing other things?

Tomorrow I will discuss a few ideas to combat these nasty “little” problem.

-Beck

https://www.facebook.com/suzannebeckintheopen/