The NYC marathon in 13 hours

And here we go. About 13 hours to go for the new york city marathon. Now, it’s 8 40 pm and just had lots of pasta. And I mean a lot. a pack only for me. ..One of the main reasons why I’m doing all this!

I’m going to bed in about 2 hours. Wake up call at 4:15 am. I gotta catch the marathon bus to Staten Island at 5:45, one hour earlier, because of the construction works on the Verazzano bridge.

Then, wait for a few hours amidst concerts and tons of people and at 10:10am we finally start. Well, it takes about 10/15 minutes to actually start from the real start that activates the chip I will be wearing on my shoes. It takes some human traffic to have 38,000 runners to start their dreams becoming true. So at approximately 10:30 I’ll be really hitting the road: Staten Island, Brooklin, Queens, Manahttan and Harlem, Bronx and back to Manhattan, Central Park and the arrival at the “Tavern on the Green”.

I can’t wait. http://www.nycmarathon.org/home/index.php

A clown’s job

He takes a long and proud bow before rushing behind the curtains’ red majesty. At least, in his mind he’s allowed to do that; a clown can never cry before the public,  or the dripping tears against his white make up would wash away his mask of happiness, the sole altruistic purpose of his existence. So he laughs instead and when he does it,  his two cheeks blow up like two puffy balls lining up with the bigger red one, the round, funny nose, practically a declaration of joy for all the kids still believing in the world’s smile. Like Santa Claus’s white bird, a clown’s red nose is there to cover all the world’s underneath lies about human being’s cruelty. No, they actually don’t exist. That’s why clowns laugh, to believe that every night there’s still an audience willing to accept his smiling world as the curtains’ red majesty opens up again.

Modern Love on Sunday morning

Finally, after a long period of forced fasting abroad, today I got to enjoy the Sunday New York Times edition at Starbucks, coming with a Grande hot chai tea latte with skim milk, a slice of bluberry cake, or espresso chocolate brownie and a good dose of intriguing curiosity to watch people hanging out in New York on Sunday morning.

After assaulting the thick paper sandwich from the book review, the Week review and Thomas Friedman’s editorial, I get to the only Style Section’s column worth reading and that’s where my masochistic instinct to somehow enjoy my melancholy kicks in: through the words of the “Modern Love” Column.

How come that according to this weekly column, written by different people telling about past, defining love experiences, the concept of modern love mostly hinges upon lack of communication, incomprehension, loneliness and unmet expectations?

Why does ” Modern Love” solely comprehend a lonely and consuming experience according to the NY times?

Following, one of my favorite “Modern Love” columns for writing and content on the Sunday Ny times:

“When the Thunder Rolls in, My Lie Rolls Out”
By AMY O’LEARY
Published: September 10, 2006

The first time I said it, I thought it was the best kind of lie: tender and considerate.
My boyfriend and I were lounging in bed as a gust of wind from one of those sweeping Midwestern thunderstorms crashed against the flimsy picture window of our rural Minnesota apartment. Our relationship was in trouble, and that’s when the lie came to me.

Day 1

Al buio, sdraiato sul air matress sistemato in salotto, al di la della finestra c’e’ il Chrysler building illuminato di bianco.Luna artificiale che si riflette sulla tastiera del computer. Sembra di stare in un romanzo di Scott Fitzgerald. Non c’ero piu’ abituato. New York e’ bella, ma anche per uno come me all’inizio e’ come una valanga in faccia. overwhelming. Mi ci vogliono sempre un po’ di giorni per riabituarmi. qui e’ come se tutto andasse piu’ veloce e nessuno avesse tempo. Sono praticamente 24 ore che non dormo e per il fuso gia’ so che domani alle sette saro in piedi. Poi? Beh, cominciamo a farci due conti.Partiamo dalla spesa. Vado da Trader Joe’s, discount pazzesco a Union Square e poi un salto da Paragon a comprare le scarpe per la maratona. E’ il caso poi che inizi a telefonare a un po’ di gente, amici, ex colleghi.Insomma tutto quello che puo’ rendere un lavoro piu’ vicino. Nel frattempo pero’ sento le ambulanze in lontananza. benvenuto a new york…I hope to make it.

Conjunctives and conditionals don’t make reality.

I have good moves on the dance floor, but I never pursued dancing.

I took dance class for a few months, years ago. 

Funk class. It was fun, but didn’t last.  

I have a good voice, but I never pursued singing.

I went to a few auditions. I passed one, but then I didn’t want to continue.

I’m a good word juggler, perhaps better in Italian, but that doesn’t make me a writer.

Always received everybody’s applause for my words and took a few writing classes in college, but never seriously pursued the career. I did an internship at the AP in college and APTN called me afterward for a temporary substitution, but I had a block and never really proposed all the stories I would have wanted to.

Should have, could have, would have takes you nowhere in life, so I took the bull by the horns, I guess in English is the same expression we have in Italian and I stopped this process.

I’m a good runner, so one day, I stopped and decided to do it for real and on November 4th I will run my third marathon, the first in New York City.

I’m a good manager at work, I’m committed, so one day I decided to  pursue my career even if underpaid, because it was worth it. It worked and then I left. Not only the job, but the opportunity of a potential dream career, at least in Rome.

I’m trying to make it in the States, not only in my head, but for real.With my hands.

Scared? A little, what if I didn’t find what I want? Conjunctives are as useless as conditional to make it in this world. Better remorses than regrets in life.

A dear friend of mine today was sad and depressed because her contract job is about to end in a month. And then what? She’s really good and she has a lot of different skills, but she’s indolent, perhaps because of her inner fear, I don’t know, but she tends to stop a step right before.

Of course, there’s always an excuse to stop a step before, I found millions in the past and I continue to, because what if, by mistake, that final step is going to be successful. Then, you are forced to complete your idea and turn it into reality. Chinese used to say”don’t aspire too hard to something, because you might get it for real one day”.

Now, I’m ready, not because I’m not scared or, insecure to do something. I guess I just realized that I will never be ready if that means not to be scared to try something.

I’m ready because I can accept my insecurities and fear to accompany myself along my challenges. That’s why I know I’m ready and I hope that my dear friend will be ready as well for her journey. Good luck my dear, precious Giulia.

 I have good moves on the dance floor, but I never pursued dancing.

I have a good voice, but I never pursued singing.

I’m a good word juggler, but that doesn’t make me a writer.

Not yet.

Now, I’m a runner and on Nov4th I’m going to run a marathon.

What would be thy happiness if thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest!

Could our knowledge turn into wisdom, without the possibility to share it with people?

Can our experience reallistically become our inner growth, our acquired maturity, 

without reflecting it into the world's mirror?

Unfortunately, often we learn from bad experience, 

from confronting ourselves with people who have hurt us, deeply sometimes.

Nevertheless, contextually, we also learn from every experience and from every type of person, 

even from the apparent most superficial, sometimes. 

That's why, it's always worth it to interact with everybody. 

For better or worse, you can only learn out of it. 

I'm always a little sceptical  about people talking  from a pedistal. 

Why don't they want to talk at everybody's same level?

I guess descending from the mountain always take courage...

Thus Spoke  Zarathustra: 

 Prologue-Part 1

"WHEN Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake

of his home, and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his

spirit and his solitude, and for ten years did not weary of it. But at

last his heart changed,- and rising one morning with the rosy dawn, he

went before the sun, and spake thus unto it:

  Thou great star! What would be thy happiness if thou hadst not those

for whom thou shinest!

  For ten years hast thou climbed hither unto my cave: thou wouldst

have wearied of thy light and of the journey, had it not been for

me, mine eagle, and my serpent.

  But we awaited thee every morning, took from thee thine overflow,

and blessed thee for it.

  Lo! I am weary of my wisdom, like the bee that hath gathered too

much honey; I need hands outstretched to take it.

  I would fain bestow and distribute, until the wise have once more

become joyous in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches.

  Therefore must I descend into the deep: as thou doest in the

evening, when thou goest behind the sea, and givest light also to

the nether-world, thou exuberant star!

  Like thee must I go down, as men say, to whom I shall descend.

  Bless me, then, thou tranquil eye, that canst behold even the

greatest happiness without envy!

  Bless the cup that is about to overflow, that the water may flow

golden out of it, and carry everywhere the reflection of thy bliss!

  Lo! This cup is again going to empty itself, and Zarathustra is

again going to be a man.

  Thus began Zarathustra's down-going."

Nietzsche

Half of a drink with an old friend and one gelato with a maestro

Strange night. Unexpected encounters.

 I saw a friend of mine, once one of my most precious. We used to be in high school together. At that time, I was dating one of her classmates and she was dating one of my friends. We used to hang out all the time. Even until a few years after graduation..Even until senior year in college. Well, at least for me. She dropped it. After her dad died, I guess she had to figure out herself in life, find a direction, after he lost her main guide. After a few jobs, she became a flight attendant and years later, after I had started working already, she decided to also go back to college. I guess, she found herself again.

Today, after almost three years, I met her for a drink. She’s still a flight attendant, but only 3 classes away from her bachelor degree. Her major? I would say “life”. She was able to find a direction, give herself a sense of stability after struggling with herself, with her family, her mom. I still cannot imagine how it is to lose a father. I guess one day I will inevitably will. She found out. And with that also how to get out of it. Political science is going to be her major. Lots of credits for that, definitely more than the ones she needs for that piece of paper. 

We had a drink. Half of that, she had to rush back home for a family dinner. That’s not true. She wanted to, because somehow she’s been taking care of her mom. As a daughter, or as a  son, how do you deal with your insecuritites, fears and maybe sometimes desperation if and when you can’t even show all of them, otherwise your family would fall apart?

She learned that. Over time, by herself, guiding herself through life. That’s why I didn’t get mad. “You call me out of the blue on my cell after three years and when we finally meet, you tell me that you can only stay half an hour?-Are you out of your mind?” It’s what my instinct was about to tell her, but then, my historical memory kicked in and in like a three seconds flash back I saw all these years passing by in my mind since at her home she was sitting on the little wall by the bush, hoping that all that crowd would just disappear. Funerals are not only sad, but stressful and disorienting. She did a lot of road from that wall at her home’s front yard, up to today, to tonight when she apologized for not being able to stay longer:” I’m really sorry about that, but we’ll definitely hang out again in the next days” . I honestly don’t know what it mmust be for a 16 years old girl to grow up wihtout her dad. My dad is fundamental in my life, but for a girl must be even more so. And beside, I can’t feel like carrying her load as well, on top of my current emotional load. That would be too much. “Don’t worry, give me a call when you have time”.

I guess she is one of those friends disappearing every now and then, but somehow always appearing back at the horizon. She will always be a true friend of mine, or should I say, she can always consider me a true and genuine friend of hers? There is a difference.

I guess I will always be the doctor to my friends. Always the one fixing problems, the one everybody can always rely one. This summer a friend of mine kept calling me “Daniele, human being’s best friend” Do you guys have this saying for dogs? That’s the joke. Always someone to trust and rely on. Sure, I’m glad to help, but I’m still waiting for that one to fix me. I’m still waiting for that one to save me. Oh, poor boy. I guess no victimism. We choose who want to be and afte a certain age none and I mean none of our previous history can justify who we are and why we act in a certain way. We don’t like ourselves? Fine, let’s try to make some adjustment within a reasomning degree of self acceptance. Oh, simply reminding at loud this to myself. Only addressed to me!

So, at some point I guess I will meet Gessica again. I’m proud of the woman she has been able to become. She went really far.She deserves it. Until next time, good luck on your road. Take care of yourself..Still don’t know why she called me after so long.

So, I hug her and I drive back home. At least I thought so.

One of my best friends, Ettore invites me to some art gallery exhibit. It’s him, Luana, his wife, Nando and his wife Marta.Oh and the maestro, the painter. Man, he’s good.  the exhbit was in a small boutique. It reminded of those small art galleryies in Soho, NY (of course).

My friend Luana reminds me about Saturday night. A famous Italian TV network came to her store and on Saturday they’re gonna broadcast the segment. Dinner at Nando’s house with friends. Lots of wine, laughs and thank god harmony.Those people are amazing, their stories, their individualities. They could write a movie about them.

Luana has a store selling used clothes of great brands like Dolce and Gabbana, Valentino and brands like that. She has two of them. How do you advertise all this?

Well, here comes my job. How do you manage the communication of a company? the Pr, marketing, advertising, press office? How do you plan a media campaign? Well,  I’ ve done a little bit of this in the field:)

We spent all night talking about the right communication and media strategy to adopt, in order to exploit the wave  that this TV segment will create from Saturday on. I must say I came up with a good plan and she told me that instead of paying me I can go there and shopping for free. Would I do it for money? No, no with two dear friends. How can you take money out of a friend? I do it for friendship, but also for myself, to convince myself that I’m good at it.

I know how to build the structure of a project, of a communication plan, a marketing plan, even a film festival. Someone in Long Beach asked me to secure them some film for an upcoming inaugural film festival. I’m not sure I can do that with a 2 weeks deadline and almost no budget, but I’ll definitely know how to structure a film festival next year. When I’ll be in LA in November, I will talk to them and perhaps, they will hire me as consultant. Who knows? World, give me the chance and I know I can do this.

So, bottom line is first part of the night I guess I was a great friend in the past years. Can I still be a great friend? Where is the thin red line between unconditional frienship and exploited friendship? Altruism, or being exploited?

Second part of the night: can I pull off a career as a professional? Will I be able to communicate my skills to the world? To know something doesn’t mean that you can communicate it. Then, it would be like not knowing that at all.

 As we said goodbye the Maestro told me ” I face life with optimism. Do you wanna do something? do it. Only once inside the process you worry about how to solve upcoming obstacles”. It makes sense. He told me that after I told him that I have a disease called optimism. “Good luck in the States Daniele” he yelled at me from the other side of the street.” Thanks Maestro. I need it”. I’m leaving for New York on October 24th.

Strange night.

Within…

Enclosed within my hand is the sound of the mute word as it releases its  meaning;

Writing is my time, the projection into the world of my thoughts, lenghtening as shadows upon the white space of a sheet.

Tonight, writing becomes the silence filling the distance between the unspoken emotion and the displayed word.

In this moment, my words open up to you as arms becoming bigger to embrace you all, all your concerns, all your goals, all your life.

Enclosed within my hand is the sound of my world tonight, as it secretely releases its wishful being upon yours .

And voila, hey Houston can you hear me? I’m landing

And voila, the curtain opens. The crowd is ready and the show begins: I quit my job and now I’m looking for another one. A better one. In the States;New York, L.A. it doesn’t matter.I’m damn ready to rock and roll anywhere I’ll have the chance to within the US.

The ironic part? I’m excited.I’m serene and I feel free,like I’ve never felt for so long. Perhaps, last time it was right after I graduated, but I couldn’t really grasp the individuality of that, since at that time I was with someone in Boston-Nicole for those of you who followed my adventures- Not that it last for that long since I had graduated inMay and she dumped in November-22ndthe same day I took my driving license years before, weird right? At that time, I felt free, but still didn’t exactly know what to do with that freedom. I felt like everything I was doing or try to do wasn’t exactly because of my strenght. Iwas with her, in Boston and didn’t whether I would have been able to do the same withou her.Bymyself.

Now, I know:)

Years later, five years later, I’m definitely bymyself and bymyself I decided to  finally unchain myself from “Bob”’s slavery (and let’s stop here, those people are pretty weird.wouldn’t really like to be suited for whatever reason.paranoid? with pride! ), free from my own ambition. I don’t want to be at their mercy. I’m thankful I have them. I am, but don’t to be at their mercy. It’s dangerous.

 I’ll try LA, I’ve got one person to talk to already. I’m planning to come around october/november. If anything goes according to plan, in November I’ll run the NY marathon. Today, I started my training and tomorrow I’ll get my number and registration or whatever is called in English! Perhaps, this year, after 3 years of trying, I’ll be really able to go and do it.

Meantime, I’m updating my resume. Some of you might get it. I need suggestions and advices, like the “Education part” goes before or after the professional experience? I’m hearing both theories:) I’ve been researching and as my email will be ready I will start throwing it outhere like there’s no tomorrow while contacting and emailing people.

I guess I should be scared. I quit my job before having another one.Not exactly the smartes move on earth, but given the situation I was in (short short version!) I’m actually really glad, happy. What the hell, I’m 31. If I don’t do crazy thigns now, I’ll never do it again. This is why in my search, hoping NOT  to wait for Godot, I’ve been considering also different fields than production, cinema and TV. Like Humanitarian foundation. Why not? Why not going back home at the end of the day with the illusion to have brought a small contribution to planet earth. A little naive maybe, but inspiring.

 I’m not writing my usual consideration over life,but at least I’m writing. I stopped for a couple of months. It took me awhile to take this decision about my life. It’s been a quite pensive period and it took me a lot to write it out I guess. IT was like a block. In the past month I told a freind of mine who asked me why I wasn’t writing on my blog that I first needed to land before having the chance to tell the story of my recent journey. I guess I just landed on a new place:)

My journey, my decison was a defining one, the one that will definitely influence my life, because I do know that I drastically changed my path, or perhaps continued (maybe it was destiny?). Every day we take decisions that can change, despite slowly the course of our existence. Holywood made oalso a movie out of it. Sliding doors happen all the time, but sometimes a couple of doors may let you enter or exit strategic doors. I think I just steeped out of a very important door, hopefully, right into the right world, the right path. It’s my sense of serenity and freedom to confirm me that. I hope it’s my sixth sense and notsimply my naive hope:)

But as always I have hopeless optimism. I’ll put that as well in the magic box.

Eco

Solitudine, orecchio dell’anima.