February 2017

So much has changed, and yet nothing has.  I am still the same old magical self, and yet I am now also described as Father, Husband, Immigrant, and muralist.  Oh and home owner!  Though the last one isn't entirely true as it isn't really my home, but it's close enough.  On that same note, there is yet another new thing I can call myself, actually two things!!  I am now a carpenter and a sculptor.  The home technically belongs to my sister in law, however we are paying the bills to stay there and maintain the place.  It is, however, the very first place I've ever torn apart and rebuilt from the inside out.  The experience has given me a number of life lessons, the most important being a large dose of patience.  It has also shown me how houses are built and though I do not wish to go into the trades and build people's homes for a living I am happy to know how things are done.  It makes me feel more, adult and confident in the area of owning my own home.  One thing that I am fond of that is related to the subject is furniture building.  I absolutely love building furniture, and thanks to the new house I have been able to build a number of pieces for the house.  I am planning on building a few more as we get into the house.  One thing I need to do first to make those projects realized is to build a small workshop in the back yard.  I have already gone to the trouble of designing the space, so now it is just a matter of collecting all the material necessary.  In the mid-term, I'll need to pick up some kind of job, and I'm thinking the best type would be something part-time, where I can labor three days a week and pull in around 300 pounds.
Okay so this post has become something of a cryptic therapy session, so let me change gears a bit.  As we reach our goal of getting into the house I am excited to get into my art again.  I really want to pursue more painting, with the aspiration of becoming a professional.  I would love to have my work up in galleries and create large scale murals.  My first concept for a series would be to create something around 40 pieces.  All the pieces would be made up of various mediums.  5 or 6 of them would be furniture pieces that could be placed in the gallery to sit on or take the space in some way. Another 10 would be large spray paint pieces.  These would be in the size range of 10ft by 15 ft.  That's not exact of course and I'm yet to find how I will build the base for these pieces, but that would be the idea.  After that, another 10 pieces would be mid-size pieces, around 4ft by 5 ft.  I think these will be done on canvas, and I'll most likely be using water based acrylic paints.  These pieces may also be done with charcoal pastels and in that case, they would be done on thicker stock paper.   Finally, I'll have 10 more pieces that are small, in the range of A1 size paper or A2.  These pieces will be pencil sketches and watercolors.   Feeewwww, that's a lot.  I am also going to continue the pursuit of magic and acting and dancing.  It's a full dose of the arts in my life, and it can be very overwhelming.  All the same, they all blend together and encourage one another.  All the ways they might overlap in the future leads to exciting prospects in my imagination.  On a daily basis they will mostly be pursued individually, however as each thing progesses, I certainly want to bring them into one venture of my expression.  My wife is calling it Designs by Distefano.  I must say that has a nice ring to it.

magical fate

I have found my magical self again.  Since my last post I was moved, married and recreated.  For a long time I believed that I would never be a magician again, but that is definitely not the case.  This summer I came back to Telluride with my bride to be and out of necessity I took up my magic again.

At first it was an annoying means to supplement our already deplorable income, but not soon after getting in front of people again did I realize just how much I love magic and just how much I've been trying to fill that void since I stopped years ago.  Now three months into my performing again I am a better magician than I have ever been before.  

Something else unexpected happened along the way too, I found the passion to start reading.  I never did like reading, on account of my dyslexia, but when suddenly I know that I can become what I once thought I would, means reading endless magic books, I buckled.  I'm happy I did too.  Reading is probably, historically the hardest thing I've had to learn but with the help of reading specs and some patience I have become quite good at it.  This may sound depressing, or like a story from the 1930's but seriously my mind just didn't take well to reading.  In fact I think I've only every finished a handful of books in my life, and I say handful just to not sound depressing. 

I was always so athletic and visual, drawling and even writing were my strong suits, but reading was my arch enemy.  Especially since school always demanded so much of it that I wasn't ever able to keep up in class.  This simple truth made me into an unbelievable bull-shitter.  I figured out by high school how to tell the teacher exactly what they wanted to hear minus any actual information about the things we read.  In magical terms this known as cold reading. 

At this point in the summer both myself and my beautiful wife have rejuvenated ourselves and are planning on hitting the road back to Los Angeles for as early as November!  My personal goal is to have a close up show ready for performing and a series of manipulation acts too boot.  As I build this new act I am finding that I need to refine the work, by gaining theme's, strong plots, and eliminating the Chaos so to often seen in my contemporaries.  This process is like shooting for Mozart when your used to playing chopsticks!       

Scrapping for ashes

Defeat feels like concrete.  In three days time I'm due to pay a series of bills that are suppose to make my life better.  I keep taking classes that are suppose to enlighten me, temper me or enable me.  The outcome has been much more like defeat, boredom and false dogma.  My truths seem only to come from within experiences I grasp on walks back from the grocery store, or that time I decided to do handstands on the concrete wall outside the bank.  
A number of days ago I lost family.  Elijah I love you.  Since then the world has fallen into some kind of darkness and the illuminated Hollywood dream has become nothing more than a lit up hotel sign near a raging highway.
I am dancer? I don't know anymore.  It feels like such a blur since last fall I can't seem to find footing in anything out here.  The only thing holding me together has been the love of my life.  She is extraordinary and has saved me over and over again.  From the look of things I know I'm not suppose to complain.  After all there are people in far worse shape then I, and for that I am grateful for my high class problems.
Still there's something really troubling about the state of things.  I went out to get a part time job yesterday.  Just bussing tables or doing something labor intensive.  Each time I walked into a place I was met with diversion.  Everything here seems to be a part of a chain and with it an online application.  What ever happened to meeting the owner, shaking hands and finding new found faith in someone.  I can't help but notice the amount of homeless people there are.  What's more is they seem to be making more money then I do.
Today I went and took class with Diavolo.  They are a contemporary dance company based in Los Angeles, and they specialize in exploring movement on various architectural structures.  It was nice being in their space, and for a moment I thought it could be a place I could work, but the faint vision of a future after another stint with a company makes me shutter.  Even still I would honor the work, but my senses tell me I'm not what they are looking for.
It's alright, I am starting to accept the idea of laying down roots for real.  The highlight of my day today was planting mint at the back of my building.  I had acquired a basil plant along with it from the grocery store a few weeks back, but white flies seem to be destroying them both.  The basil is gone but mr. mint has a chance.  I took it to the back and placed it in the dirt.  It may die yet but the idea of setting it free made me feel good, and the action of planing things in the earth is as amazing a feeling as running through the woods.
I think I'll do that more.        

West Coast style

The months have passed since my last transmission.  It was apparent that I needed some hibernation from expression.  Now I'm back, in west coast style.  I can't remember the last post I made but I know that it was from my New York City lifestyle.  Since then I've moved out west, back to tinsel town and I'm really excited to be here.  After arriving two months ago I've just been keeping my head down.  Pushing for work as hard as possible.  I've solidified an agent with Bloc Talent Group and I'm ecstatic  to be on board with them.  But enough filler, I'm writing today because it marks my first big Los Angeles audition.
I must say it felt very good.  I really jive with the jazz funk, commercial flavor that Los Angeles provides.  I know that I'll be doing very well in the months and years to come.  As for today I have my frustrations.  I feel like I had the movement, in fact it felt really good.  Even still I was cut in the very first group.  There is nothing worse that the feeling you get by getting cut first.  Well I suppose getting cut last is worse but getting cut first is a very close second.  One would think that as we mature, our ability to take rejection would also mature.  I must say to a large extent I think it's quite the opposite.
For working dancers the more you know the harder the fall feels.  I think as a youngster we get this idea that once we get a certain amount of work under our belts we are going to be okay.  The truth of the matter is being a dancer is like being a samurai.  Every day of your life is a battle.  And each day starts at zero.  No matter if you are the youngest guy in the room or the most celebrated technician in the world.
At the end of the day you have to show up hotter than the sun and know that the odds are never in you favor.  You will most likely get cut and most of your meals will come from dance studios and gymnastics gyms.  Your gonna wake up soar, ripped to pieces.  Your going to feel worthless from time to time.  And time will always slip through you fingers.  It's hard, there is no two ways around it.
But like I said, that's at the end of the day.
At the beginning of the day, your going to wake up feeling like you can do anything.  Like your a super hero in training.  You will walk through life with confidence and people will admire you.  You'll meet amazing friends.  Exceptional lovers and lifelong family.  You'll pick up the pieces for others, and they will do the same for you.  You will be a part of something bigger, and though you may not get picked for project after project you will be provided for.  Your currency will be in blood, sweat and tears.  You'll  understand your body better than anyone, and you will become your own healer.  In time you'll learn to see that you never get rejected. that each audition is for a different expression of yourself and that you always play an integral role in the process of the dance.

ONE

Tomorrow I am going to start in on my new dance film project.  I am very excited and overwhelmed.  Since making Andromeda last year I have come to find a much more efficient way of making dance films.  The truth is I love all the big equipment and the technology that is out there, but for dance it's too much.  Too much in that dance speaks to a current state of being and though it can become more rich with time, it generally doesn't.  I can't tell you how much dance I see from years past that is just tired.  That being said My Andromeda is going to be amazing when it's completed.  I think we got lucking when we made that piece.  The team of people involved were all heart and it really shows in the work thus far.  Okay bed time.
Thoughts for the day...
Some days you do something special and you see the reasons for being, while most days are just building blocks.  Admire the building blocks more than the zenith days.  There are more of them and the more enjoyment you can find in the work the more zenith you'll find in each day:)
love
Magic

FIRE

There was a fire down the street from my house today.  I didn't know that it was happening until my roommate returned home and told me that there was smoke billowing from a warehouse that sits down the block.  No one was hurt, but it was no joke, and it definitely makes me think about paying closer attention to the now.

Hideous day

Today was something hideous and beautiful at the same time. I woke up for class this morning to find my body mind and spirit in chaos.  When I looked outside the sky was full of gloom and I could not get out of bed.  I just watched the seconds turn to minutes on my phone.  All the time to get my things together, slipping away.  Before class there is about 45 minutes to one hour needed to put the body in a place so it's ready to move.  During this time I stretch and roll around in various ways so the body is ready to gain strength rather than maintain it.  Today that was impossible.  Even my walk to the train seemed to happen in slow motion.  To far to go, to little time.  I gave up on morning class for the day, finding a coffee shop to rest my worries.  As the day progressed students canceled on me and fearful thoughts filled my mind.  It was a hideous day.
Then through the troubles on an aimless walk I found my stride.  I guess I just forgot it on the pavement at some point the day before. A great evening followed, and a late night walk through a Brooklyn of my own.   I now lay my head to find dreams worth tomorrow's grief.
Good night world, may your dreams come true so that even on your most hideous days you can find a beautiful peace by day's end.