I haven't written on this blog since July, but I haven't stopped writing. I write all the time and have been deep into various stories; but tonight, on Christmas Eve, I went alone and saw the new movie Welcome to Marwen..... I connected with it so deeply, that I had to blog about it tonight. It's based on a true story of a man who was beaten within an inch of his life by a gang of men, because he was different. And now he was an artist who could barely write his name, let alone draw, so instead he created this town and used these action figure type dolls taking pictures of them, doing various things like (at least in the movie) kicking the ass of a bunch of Nazi dolls. But mostly he used this creative outlet to process the pain both emotional and physical, that he endured from his attack. While I couldn't connect with him on that exact level, I definitely know a thing or two about living vicariously through your art. I initially wanted to see the movie because of Merritt Wever. She's an actress who's had a profound effect on me for years now. She connects with her characters on an emotional level so deep, that you believe she feels every single thing her character is feeling. I particularly loved it when she portrayed Mary Agnes on Godless. But I wouldn't have watched Godless in the first place had I not already been a fan of hers from Nurse Jackie and The Walking Dead. I saw she was in it and I was on board, even though Westerns are not my thing. But even though that might've been why I chose the movie, it wasn't why I was impacted by it. She actually did have a much bigger role than I initially thought she was going to have; she ended up being a very sweet friend to Steve Carrel's lead character. However, I connected with Steve's character (the artist Mark) more than I thought I would. In the movie he carries around his dolls with him. They protect him in a way, they help him process the world and he feels safer with them. I didn't realize it till the movie was over that I had my own doll. My tablet. My tablet is where I write all my stories. It has a purple and white giraffe print cover and a purple keyboard. It's old, a first generation Surface, but I love it miles more than my work tablet which is a much newer version of the same brand. Mine's a little smaller and I do carry it with me, not everywhere but anywhere I think I may be inspired to write. I'll literally walk around the lake carrying it even though I never stop and sit on the ground and write. It is my security blanket. And I had it with me tonight! I brought it in because I had gone to this theater in a sketchy area, at night and there was a sign by where I parked that said "hide your belongings." I was like oh hell no, I'm taking this in. It didn't occur to me that literally no one would break into my broken down taped up car that's missing a headlight. But to me, I was only worried about losing that tablet. I had it in my lap during the whole movie and when it was over I realized the connection. His art was his everything. He lived vicariously through the lives he created for his dolls. And I do the exact same thing with my stories. I write fictional versions of myself into these worlds I will never live in, like how he was the WWII fighter pilot, "Captain Hoagie" in the world that he created. He had all these female dolls who represented and were named after real women in his life who were there for him, helped him, inspired him... or whom he fell in love with in the real world. I feel for the guy, because I know about this all too well. I write these stories in which I find love, either with a fictional character or the much more embarrassing much more frequent option...a real life person, specifically an actress. He sometimes confuses the women being nice to him because they are good people, for real true love. I don't have that exact problem since I don't know any of the women I've written as my love interests, in my actual life. I've never spoken to any of them... well that's not true, I spoke to one once..but it wasn't the same thing as it was with him.
Merritt's character in the movie, while much younger than Steve's, seems to really care for him, probably only platonically, but she at least tries a lot to get him to go out, be with people, do things like go try sushi. In the end he says something that wasn't hard to hear... it would've been years ago, but it wasn't now. He said and I'm paraphrasing slightly, "some people just don't find true love. It doesn't happen for everyone. Some people are just alone." And that feels like me. That feels like how my life will always be and I'm not sad about it anymore, I've accepted it. When I had my surgery for my deviated septum, I was afraid of going under anesthesia because I didn't like the lack of control and what could go wrong, medically. I didn't like the idea of going to sleep and maybe not waking up. I think a part of me always thought that since I don't have the traditional version of a "loved one" ie: spouse and children, that MY life is not worth as much as those that do. They need to live to be there for those people in their lives. But me, it didn't really matter. Who would be really affected? But facing that surgery I didn't feel that way anymore; I wanted to live. I wanted to keep going and keep writing my stories, even if I was the only one to ever read them. I love them I love them all. I love that they are hard and tough and really bad stuff happens to my lead character in them sometimes, but in the end she always pulls through and she always finds love. Like Mark with his "Captain Hoagie," only his fictional self found love... and that might be my fate as well, but I'm never going to stop doing my art; just like he never well either. And at the end and probably to give us a little hope for Mark, he asked his friend (Merritt's character) to go out for sushi and they both said they didn't know if they'd like it, but they'd try. Maybe they were referring to each other and being something more than friends, maybe it was just the sushi, but I liked that they showed him stepping out of his comfort zone and trying. I do this sometimes... far less than I used to, but I still do. I'm going way out of my comfort zone in May to Provincetown AKA "lesbian town." I don't think it's officially called that, but actually there's a single girls weekend event being hosted there and I am signing up. I am going to try. It may all be women a lot older than me, but hey at least I'm going, at least I'm trying. Plus I've always wanted to go to Boston and Cape Cod, so I'm going for that reason too, because I know I can't go just for the hopes that I meet a woman. I don't live with that hope anymore. I don't say that to feel sorry for me, I say that as truth. I'm realistic. Maybe one day I'll be proven wrong, but for me, I can't be the girl that goes to bars or does online dating, I just can't do it. If that means I'll be alone, then so be it. Mark will always have his dolls and I will always have my stories... and just like in his town of Marwen, anything can happen.... you just have to create it.
