That Feeling

I don't want to live a mediocre life.

"My business is to create!" said the young and naive Holly Kennedy of 'P.S. I Love You'.

Somehow staring at a computer all day, making appointments for patients does not quite fit this bill. Crap day. CRAP day.

'P.S.' is filled with some really interesting and decent themes. It covers death, starting over, accepting change, discovering oneself, courage, love, friendship, relationships, broken families and so on. Holly is stuck in a real estate job (the most recent of the five jobs she has had previously), and feels as though the world (and her mother) are cracking the whip of conformity and routine on her tight backside. Apparently, after 10 years of marriage, she should be at ready to have children, or at least be in a career that is taking her someplace fabulous. She is at no such crossroads. In fact, she's stuck. As a person. Mahoney from "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium" felt the same. Having worked at the magical toy store for most of her adult life, the fantastic symphony her fingers are longing to compose cannot be in existence. It seems that what these two women have in common are comfort zones. Holly was in a (mostly) happy marriage. Mahoney was in a comfortable job and had a wonderful boss. But something had to occur to shake up these two ladies' worlds. What happened? Death. Gerry died. Mr. Magorium died. It was only through these spectacularly devastating events that Holly was pushed out of her comfort zone to land on a path that led to back to her creativity, and eventually her own personalised brand of shoes. Mahoney was able to find her song in the midst of sadness; a place where we are truly at our most inquisitive and introspective. How wonderful that through death, life and it's beautiful fragrance and sound was able to be found. Sounds a little familiar, doesn't it? However I'm appalled at the way our society manipulates the Easter tradition into a big consumeristic affair - eggs in the supermarket in January. Excuse me while I throw up.

I was stuck. On days like the one I've just had, I still feel glued down. But I did have my big light-globe moment mid last year (2009), the second of two moments I have experienced so far. (the other: stay tuned). My family and I were on the tail end of two deaths that I never actually thought would happen. The two saddest days of my life. Nonna. That night I pounded the pavement of my daily walk and sobbed for the entire hour. It was as though I no longer had the ability to control my emotions. Nonno. The world lost one of the rarest species of gentlemen that ever walked the earth. I remember sitting in my Italian class the day he went to Heaven, and all I could think about was how stupid we all were. How stupid were our attitudes, the things we valued and the emphasis we put on the most insignificant of things.

Soon after that my light-bulb moment occurred. I had just finished my first semester of Arts at Melbourne Uni and had barely scraped through. I didn't want to be at Uni. All my excitement about learning my beloved grandparent's language had been swallowed up in grief. To make things even more morbid, the place I used to park my car was on the fringe of the cemetery in which they were buried. Everyday I would trudge across the streets of Carlton with the heaviest of hearts, hoping I would find the strength to make it through another day. My attendance grew less and less. Miraculously, I still managed to pass, but it was in one of my Italian classes that I decided I would audition for NIDA. It was then that I started planning for and anticipating life in Sydney. So everyday that I'm here, no matter if I've had a crap day or a great day, I'm going to choose to remember that day, when in the midst of my the darkness, there was this small sturdy light that gave me something to hope for.

Holly, Mahoney and I are all artists. We are in that category of people who didn't want to be a doctor, or a firefighter, a nurse or a teacher. What we have to offer the world is subjective to other people's opinions. Who knew we'd all go gaga over a song about fireflies? And don't even get me started on the absurdity of hers truly. John Travolta said in a recent interview regarding his film "From Paris With Love," that his success was a mixture of luck and choice. To be completely honest, I didn't actually read the whole article. But I would like to interpret that comment as being in the right place at the right time will serve you well, but making a choice to get out of bed every morning, painting your 50th picture, attending your fifth dance rehearsal for the week, or going to that umpteenth audition is equally as important.

*Don't stop, believing. Hold on to that feeling*

That feeling? The one that sends a tingle down your spine. The feeling that holds the key to your passion. The feeling you get when you think about the person who has left this earth, who believed in you and loved you completely for who you are. And the people alive and kicking who still do.

Love love love