The Life of a New York Artist

Every year tons of actors, writers, dancers, singers, musicians, painters, and those in-between move to New York City in the hopes of making their dreams come true.

What I’ve re-confirmed through conversations with fellow New York theatre artists is that this profession is unstable, it will betray you at any chance it gets, and it will stab you in the back when you least expect it. It also takes patience, a willingness to market yourself (without looking desperate), and knowing the right people hasn't hurt anyone. “This profession is life on the edge,” described to me by one of my co-workers who’s been in the profession for over thirty years.

I’ve noticed a pattern among most aspiring artists that move to New York; they are forced to work in crummy jobs (which they swore they would never do) just to pay for their uber expensive apartment in the city. If you’re an actor you begin to audition and get rejection after rejection, because out of the 50 auditions you go, a couple of them will turn into a callback and maybe one or two will become a job. Then when the 6-month contract ends, you have to do it all over again.

The same goes for playwrights, although we deal with rejection much different than actors do; our plays are the ones who get rejected, not so much us. In the past three years, I’ve submitted to over twenty festivals/developmental workshops and out of those twenty, three of them have selected my plays and in one festival I was an alternate. The ones that really mattered, the festivals/developmental workshops that I’ve wanted to get into rejected my plays. It’s tough to deal with that rejection, but I've slowly gotten use to it.

Why do I keep at this unstable profession that one day will give me a steady income, you may ask? Because there are moments of absolute blissfulness. Like when a stranger, two years ago approached me at the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival, after witnessing the reading of my one-act Chloe’s Autumn and praised me for, “capturing the essence of what it’s like to be in an unstable and miserable marriage.” It was a huge compliment, considering that I’ve never been married.

Moments like that are a constant reminder as to why I love what I do. And why I could never do anything else; I create art. That’s my job. I'm a story teller. I take you on a journey for an hour an a half and make you reflect on situations, people, places that normally wouldn't cross your mind on a regular basis.

I didn’t get into theatre to make money; I’ve always know that. And I have to remind myself of that every day when I answer the phone at work, or send a fax, or design a flier for my overly demanding boss, that this is only temporary. And that soon rather than later I’m going to have my agent (when I get one) call me to inform me that Playwright’s Horizon wants to commission me to write a play for their next season.

But until that day comes and it will come, I have to work the crummy job to pay for my apartment in Astoria and my upcoming student loans. I made a promise to myself right when I got to the city which was to never lose sight of why I moved here. As one of my mentors told me in grad school, “Oscar, you’re a writer, so write…” and that’s what I’m going to do…

Out Magazine: Has Manhunt Destroyed Gay Culture?

Out Magazine's September 2008 issue is in newstands right now with hottie Neil Patrick Harris on the cover. Michael Joseph Gross, a contributing writer for the magazine, wrote a clever yet insightful article about how Manhunt has literally distroyed gay culture's dating habits. I have included the beginning of the article as well as a link to finish reading the article.

Has Manhunt Destroyed Gay Culture?
A cost-benefit analysis of our quest to get laid.
By Michael Joseph Gross

If you are a single gay man in search of a mate, and if you are at times prone to discouragement, you probably have friends who reassure you that someday you will find a man who’ll cherish every part of you -- even your weaknesses, even your flaws.

If you have been wondering whether to believe this, wonder no more. There are in fact at least a few dozen guys out there who cherish your flaws. They work in Cambridge, Mass., in a historic building topped by a golden statue of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, in an oak-paneled office suite where a grandfather clock marks the passing of the hours. Here the guys who delight in your weaknesses oversee Manhunt.net, the world’s fastest-growing gay website, which is quietly abetting a revolution in social and sexual mores, under the slogan “get on, get off.”

The phrase evokes the product Manhunt sells: a fix of quick sex -- easy in, easy out. To partake, men market themselves in a style shaped by the site’s profile template. Profile names, which tend to be histrionically masculine or graphically sexual, appear next to pictures, usually of a beefcake or X-rated variety, often with heads cropped out, accompanied by brief, blunt descriptions of sexual tastes (“I need oral and anal sex all the time”). Beneath these entries lie a series of boxes that can be checked to signal “What I’m Into” (27 options, including “JO”, “Exhibition,” “Pig Play,” “LTR” -- long-term relationship -- “Feet/Socks”), “When I Want It” (the box most frequently checked is “Right Now!”), “How I Like It” (top, bottom, etc.), “Where It Happens” (“Your Place,” “My Place,” and the popular “Anywhere”), and “What I Got” (age, build, ethnicity, eye color, hair color, HIV status, and height). To that last category will soon be added penis length and girth -- “a controversial issue within the company,” says Manhunt’s recently resigned director of marketing Phil Henricks, “because men lie.”

This wealth of information makes Manhunt seem the most efficient place for its target customers to find sex, because the site’s comprehensive search function can produce in seconds a list of, say, brown-eyed bottoms within one mile of your zip code wanting to get it on “Right Now!”

Manhunt’s apparent efficiency owes even more to its staggering number of members. The site’s other advertising tag line, “If he’s out there, he is on here,” is only a slight exaggeration. In the United States, Manhunt now has nearly 1 million members, and the site receives more than 400,000 unique visitors per month. If you are among its target customers -- younger, hotter, and richer than average gay men in big cities -- Manhunt is the club that the proverbial everyone (meaning, the guys you’ve always fantasized about) belongs to.

Who knows? You might even find a boyfriend there. If it’s true -- and everybody says it’s true -- that sex is the gay handshake, then one of these days maybe you’ll hit the jackpot. Thus, even many of the most overbearingly erotic profiles also haltingly express a dream of emotional connection. The headline of one man’s ad, next to a big close-up of his butt, asks, “Are you The One?”

To finish reading the rest of the article please visit: "Has Manhunt Destroyed Gay Culture?"

My Single-Self

If going to the bar meant to meet other single-eligible-attractive-men then why is that guys who are in relationships go? I understand that they have to co-exist in bars with me and that they have the same needs as single guys do; which is to consume voluminous amounts of alcohol and mingle with other attractive guys. But when they check me out when their partner is not in their presence is something that I'm not okay with.

Several weeks ago, I went to my neighborhood bar Albatross with my roommate to get a couple of drinks to celebrate my new found employment (which I currently have a hate-love relationship with). After six frustrating weeks of being unemployed in the city, I had finally found someone who hired me, so it was time to drink away the money that I'd soon be earning.

As we walked into the bar, there was this statuesque guy (and I take note on taller guys because I want to date someone who's taller than me - 6 feet or taller is my requirement) he was playing pool (brownie points) and then the statuesque guy looked and smiled at me several times (my heart belonged to him). I pictured us having Thai dinner at some trendy restaurant on 9th Avenue, then dancing the night away at Star Lounge underneath the Chelsea Hotel, and then sharing a cab ride back to Astoria as we figured who's place we'd spend the night at. But I was brought back to reality when his extremely good looking boyfriend (who mind you was shorter than him by six inches) came in after having smoked a cigarette and kissed him. I hated them both; the statuesque guy for checking me out and his extremely good looking boyfriend for being boyfriends with the statuesque guy. As the night progressed and I continued drinking my gin and tonic, I realized what a cute couple they made and my hatred for both of them grew stronger.

Last night while riding the subway home, I pulled my black leather bound notebook from my purse and made a list of all my close/best-friends that are coupled. And the numbers stunned me. Out of that list 11 out of 15 close/best-friends are either married, engaged, or have been together for a long time. And 4 out of the 15 are SINGLE! All my close/best-friends are COUPLED! What does that say about me? Do I secretly long to be in a relationship that I surround myself with other people who are in relationships in the hopes that one day I too will be in a relationship? Am I unconsciously putting this into the universe?

Last week I hung out with my favorite newly form couple, Eric and Milo. I met Eric through a mutual friend from California. She got us in contact when she found out that I was moving to New York and said we'd hit it off, and boy was she right. When I first met Eric he had just started dating Milo, now almost three months later they're practically living together in Astoria.

"We're like lesbians," joked Eric. "You know lesbians go rent a UHAL on their second date." He told me over happy hour drinks at ATE Ave, several weeks ago. Then last week Milo invited me over to have dinner with them. By the way, Milo is an amazing chef. (I told him if he had a gay twin, to which he laughed and ignored my question, which annoyed me because I was totally being serious). Eric and Milo are one of those couples that still give me hope that everyone does in fact have someone out there.

Then on the other side of the relationship spectrum is Adam and Christov who will be celebrating their fourth anniversary on September 2nd (if I'm correct). And four years translates to eight years in gay years (everything gets doubled). Their relationship keeps growing stronger and stronger each day, and I admire them for it. Hopefully one day I too can have what Adam and Christov or what Eric and Milo have. Someone who'll be there through thick and thin. And isn't that what we all want - to be with someone and not end up alone?

Both of these couples are a perfect example of what I surround myself with every day. Even when I lived in Vegas it was the same thing; I lived with a married couple, my favorite collaborator and close friend is married, three of my close gay guy friends are or were in long-distance relationships.

For the most part I have never felt like a third wheel with any of my coupled friends, but when I witness them stealing a glance from each other, or finishing each other's thoughts, or eating from each other's plates; I glance at the empty seat next to me and wonder when is it going to be my turn? When am I going to do all those things with someone? When am I going to be a couple? The answer that I always give myself is, "soon...real soon...he's out there...be patient...keep on dating...you'll find him...you'll find him..."

...whether I believe all of that or not, is a different story...

Gay Online Dating: The Good, the Bad, & the Horribly Misspelled Profiles

In my journey to find my significant other I have opted out to search for him online. I've heard plenty of successful stories of people who have met online, so I figured why not give it a shot and see what happens. In this new found journey I joined connexion.org. This site was recommended by a friend, who had some tantalizing experiences, so after his convincing testimonials, I rushed home and joined like it was going out of style.

It's been a month since I became a member and I've yet to go on any dates. My online dating is worse than my real life dating. (Although my real life dating is going pretty good so far). I've come to the realization that the more skin one shows on these sites the more one will get a response. (Wait a minute, isn't that the definition of shallow?) I mean, I am showing off skin; I'm wearing a tank top on my profile picture, and that's the only skin you're going to get from me. I want to be mysterious.

Last night, I received an e-mail notice from connexion.org, I got uber excited thinking someone had messaged me and my dateless online streak would be over, but when I logged on, to my surprise it was not a message from some hunky guy saying how much he wanted to ravish my body, but a notice to one of the features on the site. (Que rude!) So I began perusing some of the profiles and that's when the rest of this blog entry was born. My roommate suggested that I compose a blog compiling all the ridiculous quotes that guys put on that dating site.

So here's the good, the bad, and the horribly misspelled of what guys are putting on their dating profiles.

from CONNEXION.ORG:

(1.) This was a comment left from D. to G.:
"STAY AWAY FROM HIM, BITCHES! He's MINE -- ALL MINE. AND I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN & KILL YOU IF YOU EVEN SO MUCH AS I.M. HIM.
G: LOG OFF THIS EVIL SITE RIGHT NOW.
-jealous Taurus"

(2.) This was found in the ABOUT ME Section:
"I am gay, but pretty straight acting. I like dudes...I don't mind flamers, but you better be wicked cute. I like to drink Stoli and I hate beer because there are too many carbs...I love CK underwear because that* make my package look phenomenal...I love men in jock straps..."

(3.) This was in the WANT TO MEET Section:
"Someone with a great ass, tons of money, a non-feline domesticated animal, and a library. Must possess the ability to make me laugh uproariously. Hee hee. Or- be nice, and we can work on the other stuff later."

(4.) This was in the WANT TO MEET Section:
"I want a man who's kind and understanding. Is that too much to ask of a millionaire?

(5.) This was found in the ABOUT ME Section:
"190 lbs of gym time..."

(6.) This was found in the ABOUT ME Section:
"Flirting is hot--Rudeness is not... Conversation is an art form...are you still using crayons??"

(7.) This was in the WANT TO MEET Section: (This one is not bad at all, in fact it's the opposite, I wanted to add it because I fell in love with him, and he was on a popular reality show last season).
"Someone with some flavor. Someone honest who says what they think and does what they say. Someone who actually wants to meet someone rather than just receive validation. Someone who doesn't text message incessantly. If you like some of the stuff I like and are not afraid to embrace the gayness then that's a start. Honestly if you're not funny or at least a good audience then I will get bored pretty quickly. I also appreciate a dirty mind a potty mind. A top would be nice. I don't know what I'm looking for. Just that guy. You know him. That guy."

(*Note the misspelled words and bad grammar that these guys use.)

A City of Strangers

Stephen Sondheim wrote the following lyrics in his musical comedy Company, referring to how people in New York City could seem like complete strangers. "It's a city of strangers / Some come to work, some to play. / A city of strangers / Some come to stare, some to stay / And every day / The ones who stay / Can find each other in the crowded streets and the guarded parks..." Those lyrics have been lingering in my head for the past several days, which is making me realize that everyone in New York is a stranger, although it may not seem that way because we ride the subway or walk down the same avenues, but in fact we are strangers.

In a city where we're all on time schedule, heading towards a certain destination, how does one connect with another person? The connection that I'm talking about isn't a romantic one, but more on the friendship level. How does someone befriend an adult? I've been trying to figure that out every since I arrived.

It's not like it was when we where in the third grade when all it took to become friends with someone was as simple as just asking, "do you want to be friends?" And the reply was always the same, "Sure." When we were kids we weren't guarded or jaded. We said what was on our minds and we didn't apologize for it. I long for those days. The simpler days. The days when text messages weren't the only way to communicate with friends. The days when hanging out meant exactly that, hanging out; there wasn't a double meaning behind the phrase. 

I was on the subway a few weeks ago, I didn't have my iPOD with me and so I just sat there. In one of the stops two gay guys strolled in laughing. They sat across from me and I was instantly intrigued by them, so I did what any normal person would do in my iPOD-less situation, I ease-dropped. I believe they noticed and I don't think they cared. One had a killer laugh and the other a cute body; at one point they began talking about New York real estate, the one with the cute body was cracking jokes about the market and the one with the killer laugh was filling the subway car with his laugh. I too was chuckling. I felt like I had known both them for years. And that's when it dawned on me; I wanted to be friends with these two guys. But I nipped that crazy idea in the bud when the insecure voice in my heard started saying, "they're going to laugh in your face," or "their friend card is already filled." So I didn't say anything and watched them get off the train two stops before I was. 

This happened several weeks ago and I wished I had said something, because they both seem like great guys who I could've been friends with. If I ever see them on the subway again, I will make sure that we're not strangers because I will ask them if they want to be my friend and hope their reply is, "sure." 

A Better Place

One of the best things about living in New York is that on any single day you can go to any bar for happy hour. 

Last Thursday, happy hour took my friends Eli, Andre, and myself to Gym Sports Bar, located on Eighth Avenue between 18th and 19th Street in Chelsea. (Pictured above is an empty Gym Sports Bar). Next Magazine describes Gym Sports Bar as, "New York's first all-gay sports bar with two floors of jock action." Sounds tantalizing doesn't it? The bar reflects any typical straight sports bar that I've ever been to; the only difference is that this particular bar is geared towards the gays. And why not, we all like drink cheap beer and watch the basketball game after a long day at the office. 

When the three of us arrived we were greeted by unfriendly glances.  You can say we looked really "faggy" (I hate using that word), but we did compared to all the "macho" (again hate using that word) men that were drinking their four-dollar Heineken. Andre was carrying his belongings in a huge Gucci tote which was hitting the guys in the overly crowded bar. 

After ordering our drinks, we went outside because my friends are chimneys and some big buff guy rolls his eyes and says, "look at these fags coming in here with their designer bags." I didn't hear him say this; it was my friend Eli who brought the rude remark to my attention. "Isn't he also a fag?" I thought.  He is at a gay bar after all. What did he expect, for some straight dudes to bounce in after lacrosse practice? And doesn't this buff dude do the same things we Gucci tote carrying gays do in the bedroom? Yes he does. 

I can't comprehend why gay men have to discriminate within our community. If we don't treat each other as equals, will we ever really achieve equality? It has to start with us because if it doesn't then how can we expect the world to accept us. We're all fighting for the same thing, equality. The equality to be recognized as a human being. If we only realized that the strength is in numbers the world would be a better place.  

A Crossroad

Robert Frost once wrote, "Two roads diverged in a wood / And I took the one less traveled by / And that has made the difference." Sometimes in life we chose to go down roads that we think are the right ones. We see down that path and everything looks clear and bright, but then as time goes on, we come to the realization that we should've taken the other road, the road that was traveled by the rest. I've come to the conclusion that the road less traveled, the one I've been on, isn't as wonderful as Frost has painted it.

I'm currently at a crossroad in my life. Recently moved to New York. Recently graduated from graduate school. Currently looking for a job. When people ask me what I do, I like to sat that I'm a freelance writer; it makes me sound less pathetic and more independent. The crossroad that I'm currently on is leading me to reevaluate my life and the choices that I have made up to this point. I no longer have the safety net that school provided and that's frightening. It's something we all face when we graduate school, that uncertainty if things are going to be all right. While being in school I missed out on life experiences that everyone else was getting. And just today it dawned on me that having life experience is better than having two degrees. Who knew? No one told me; apparently my e-mail was lost somewhere in cyber land. I've been applying for numerous jobs and when I get to the skill section of the application, I have to pause, take a deep breath, and I ponder what skills do I really have? There's no box provided to check that I know how to write a well-structured play. Even the theatre jobs that I've been applying for don't want me, I'm not an ideal candidate because I'm lacking the LIFE EXPERIENCE!

My friend Adam gave me the best advice the other day, "anything you want in this city you have to find for yourself." That's exactly what I'm going to do now. I'm going to have to just put myself out there one-hundred-percent. I think people in New York forget what it's like to struggle when one first arrives to the city. When someone is clearly asking for help they don't want to extend a hand, they figure they should also struggle like they once did.

On a chipper note, I really do love living in New York. Last Friday night, I was walking by Columbus Circle and I looked up at the Time-Warner building and I got chills. I live here. I really do live here. And it's incredible! One of my dreams has come true - I always yearned to live in New York and now it's finally happened.

I'm not going to lie and say that it's been an easy transition because it's been rough. But there has been some amazing days though; like sitting in Central Park with Adam collaborating on a new project, to drinking sangria with Lauren and Elizabeth at Odessa Cafe in the Lower East Side, to witnessing an amazing play like August: Osage County, or my favorite passing out KY lube to all the gays for gay pride (yeah that was actually my first job - and yeah I got paid for it). Some days have been lonelier than others, but I know that I'm not alone because I have a strong group of friends who are there when I need them.

Overall, this road that I'm currently striding along is something that I'm never going to regret. This is home. This is where I belong. And this is where I'm going to make it. Hope is the last thing that dies, according to my grandma. I've always been a hopeful person; even when things get dark, there always seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel and that's where the hope lies.