Guppies Gone Wild
So, I’m gonna revisit this topic, which is rearing it’s ugly gills as I speak. You may remember my tirade about a certain someone (from India) who was Broadway bound (seriously?) with just a sketch of an idea for a production. On a daily basis we (at the cell) encounter our fair share of guppies in this Big Fish universe of the great New York City art world. These are usually talented people who have made it big in places like Podunk, which pretty much describes any big city that is not New York (except Las Vegas, but let’s not go there). Well, somehow they must’ve gotten the impression (certainly not from me) that I am the great and powerful Oz simply because we operate out of New York City.
We grew our little cell from one germ of an idea into a home for struggling artists. We struggle, too. Can I help it if I live and work here? I wonder, do I have to move to Podunk just to create a new image?
The latest casualty comes from Oslo, Norway, where a childhood classmate (not even a friend!) - someone I have not seen since eighth grade and probably never spoke to, ever - chewed me out for NOT personally reading his several exhausting plays (I read as much as I could of the first one).
I got a charming e-mail: “Excuse me? Bloody excuse me? [herein lies some unprintable text...] Please don't pass your usual bullshit about being too busy. In our line of work no one's too busy if there's a real interest. Especially the higher up the artistic food chain one goes.”
How could I answer but to say, “Flattery will get you everywhere"?
It all comes back to the same old, same old. Everyone wants to be a Rock Star. Well, even I, the great and powerful Oz, want something. I’m just a guppy trying my best to help the other guppies grow big enough to keep from getting swallowed up by the BIG FISH. I have no special powers. I am no BIG FISH. I just like to make things, and I try to help others make things, too. All I really want to do is to swim with the other little fishies that make art.