It’s All About Being Lost In Translation
Last night, I decided to put on Lost In Translation, which ended up being a bad idea cause I stayed up longer than usual watching it al
l theway through. In essence, when Sofia Coppola wrote the screenplay for this play, I don’t think she realised how many people feel like this everyday in their regular lives. The opening scene where the car tracks through modern day Tokyo with a tired, unenthused Bill Murray looking out at a unfamiliar world seems to be the illustration for my life at this point in time. Bill Murray’s character explains that in the beginning life was fun, and somehow he ended up disenchanted by the lack of connection to those around him. Even though that the movie is set over a period of a week, the changes was wonderful and meaningful to both characters. The sort of moment that writers and musicians publish novels or write songs about. I remember a time in my early 20’s, being naive and free-spirited, trekked up and down the east coast of Australia trying to find that purpose that everyone searches for at one point or another. The exception being that my impatience, and being exposed to old age and death at a young age, decided early not to waste too much time experimenting and dabbling. And as you all know, when life deals out the scenarios, it doesn’t play all the cards fairly.
Recently I’ve realised something weird. I always believed that what I did as a profession was against the principals of what I was about. Entertainment, Fashion, and The Arts in general, the belly of it all is so superficial. Whilst at one point, the arts was a great distraction for the regular person. Now it has become an over-flurry of mass produced headaches that has created a generation of plastic surgery obsessed girls all wanting to be famous for doing nothing, and guys who do nothing but watch nut punching on Youtube. It was this that made me come up to my “Lost In Translation” moment at the start of the year. For something I used to think made me happy, has now made me miserable and lost. I shopped around for alternatives and ended up landing a change to sport through V8 Supercars. I still felt the spirit wasn’t there though. I was happy but it wasn’t real. I am not denying that I have found my purpose, and that feeling this way makes me selfish, but I can’t help experiencing it nevertheless.
It scares me to think howmany people feel this way. We spend all of our early years preparing for the great unknown, and then get to a point where you wonder if you were actually prepared enough. It’s funny too how people look at others with rose coloured glasses on, seeing there lives as perfect and symmetrical, when in fact theyare fraught with thesame insecurities and issues as the next person. I’ve had a number of people I grew up with die over the last few years, and no-one sticks out in my mind more than my friend Rebecca. She grew up in an adopted family, which straight away threw confusion and identity issues into the mix. The time I knew her, she struggled to find any sort of purpose. She was an inventive and beautifully organised young woman, but could never shake the drugs and feeling of life being pointless. I stuck by her side till the end when most had ran for the hills, and always hoped that the fog that clouded her mind eventually cleared. The last time I saw her was on her trip down in 2008 to meet her birth mother, which was a momentous occasion for both of us as I had known her since we were 14. When she left on the train, I had a sick feeling in my stomach I wouldn’t see her again. Later that year, she fell pregnant and I could in her voice tell that she had finally found purpose, and pictured her finally looking at the world and smiling. Even though her death after giving birth to Jhordan, I was happy in a way that before it happened, she had achieved some form of purpose being a mom before she died. Jhordon had been her “Scarlett Johansson”.
My transition, though not being so sad and dramatic as that, happened in July of this year. I recently met this group of people who were
wanting to start an online show showcasing entertainment around the country. It wasn’t like I was expecting it to happen. People approach me all the time about advice. I had a guy send me a script about pre-mature ejaculation earlier today. No shit. That really happened today. But after agreeing to sit in on the first meeting a couple of hours before my life changing S.E.L meeting in Sydney, I realised this was different. Raccoon Dog. As I got to know these people, I could see that glow and enthusiasm I used to possess. Gab,Jolen, and Alex from Raccoon Dog TV ended up being my ‘Scarlett Johansson’ as there fun, genuine nature made me realise the reasons why I did what I did in the first place. In an OB-1 Kenobi style manner, I helped them discover that same magic I had once felt back in the day before becoming jaded. What ended up being a business opportunity turned into a great friendship and huge awakening for yours truly.
Thinking on how to sum up this blog, it brought me back to this time last year when my lower back met the front of Nissan Patrol whilst saving a toddler from getting run over, and think that they might be somewhat related. I remember sitting down after that happening, and even though I couldn’t admit it then, it did affect the way I look at the world. But as the year plays out quicker than Kenny Rogers, I realise now that I can hop back in the cab and look out the window at the world and see the end of the mental crossroad. And even though directions change, I will still hear Phoenix’s Too Young playing in the background.