RE: Definition.

"It's the end of something I did not want to end.
Beginning of hard times to come.
But something not meant to be is done.
And this is the start of what was." - The Streets

wake
Pronunciation: \ˈwāk\
Function: verb
1 a : to be or remain awake
b archaic : to remain awake on watch
c obsolete : to stay up late in revelry

Function: noun
1 : the track left by a moving body (as a ship) in a fluid (as water); broadly : a track or path left
2 : aftermath

awake
Pronunciation: \ə-ˈwāk\

Function: verb

1 : to cease sleeping
2 : to become aroused or active again
3 : to become conscious or aware of something

Function: adjective

fully conscious, alert, and aware


Right now my life is all of these. Everything, all at once. These days are the aftermath of the trip of a lifetime, the beginning of my new life in the capital of the world.

I currently have more books with me than changes of clothes, which makes me feel that my priorities are genuinely in order. One of these books is Studs Terkel's collection of interviews regarding The Great Depression, Hard Times. Given the lingering economic situation and my determination to lead a bit more spartan of a lifestyle, it seemed like an appropriate time to read this anthology. But it was put on hold after two of my new roommates insisted I pick up Mark Helprin's Winter's Tale, probably best described as Gangs of New York meets The Never-Ending Story. I just started the mammoth book last night, and the one-sentence first page greeted me with the words:

"I have been to another world, and come back. Listen to me."

A story about New York, in winter, written in 1983 (the year of my birth). In one of the first few sentences the narrator describes watching a great hurricane ravaging the world from the perspective of high above it (see my last entry from "Home is a four-letter word.") all of which already make it seem tailored to me to the point of being downright spooky. Maybe it all just means that I'm not as original as I like to pretend I am, but at least I'm in good company.

When I was back in Europe, I wrote about a candle burning at both ends that grew over time. Now it's time to break it in half. One end placed in the ground here as marker, as a vigil (yes, a wake), as a footlight to guide me back when I need it. The other half I'm taking with me to light my way. The next few months aren't going to be easy with the job search, the inevitably of if not unemployment then certain underemployment, trying to get by on very little in the nation's most expensive city. And probably the most terrifying of all, I have to share the one bathroom in my new apartment with three girls.

But one of the first lessons I learned in my screenwriting classes was that becoming is always more interesting than being. Or to relate it back to New York terms, there are a lot of gorgeous photos of the Empire State Building. But this one will always be my favorite.





Note to the hard times. I'm awake. And I'm ready.