Songs for the Struggling Artist


Good News for some Friends, from the Future

On my way to go see a dance piece, I stopped off at the Drama Bookshop and noticed that they had a collection of plays written by my old friend. I figured I should buy it, since I have a goal to dedicate a shelf, nay, a bookcase, to the work of my friends. Also, I wanted to read the plays. Over the years, we’ve been less in touch so I haven’t managed to see everything or read everything.

In our twenties, we were very close. We talked on the phone many nights a week and we’d go out and wander the streets of New York, finding delicious tidbits to eat. We talked about our ambitions and our hopes. He dreamed of seeing his plays on Broadway and I wanted that dream for him too. It was a time of much angst and sometimes we’d both of us slip into hopelessness. You really have no idea what’s coming. I guess we never do.

Anyway – here we are in 2023 in the new Drama Bookshop and I’m buying a collection of his plays. It’s not the only work of his they have for sale, either. His plays take up about eight inches on the bookshelf. I take the book up to the cashier and she gets instantly excited about it. “I love his plays,” she says. And all I want to do is go back in time to some night when we were on the phone and my friend was so despondent and hopeless and I wish I could be like, “Hey, I’ve just come from the future, where I’m buying a collection of your plays at the Drama Bookshop. The cashier is delighted with my purchase and tells me how much she loves your plays. When I tell her you’re a friend of mine, she acts like I told her I was friends with Beyonce. You don’t know who that is yet because it’s the mid-90s – but trust me, a time traveler from 2023, this cashier is crazy for your work.”

When I left the Drama Bookshop, I went on to the dance show – a little ways down the road. The choreographer is a friend, though one I haven’t seen in at least a decade or two. From the back row of the house for these two world premiere dances, I can see Mikhail Baryshnikov settling in to his seat in the third row. Baryshnikov is here to see my friend’s work! This piece is at Baryshnikov’s art space so it’s highly probable that this is not my friend’s first encounter or interaction with Baryshnikov. It’s possible that this sort of thing has become normal to him. It’s not to me, though. I’m excited for him. Here, too, I want to go back in time and tell this sweet boy I knew decades ago what success awaits the man he will be in the future.

I mean, maybe me time traveling to tell stories about future success would spoil the surprise but I feel like a life in the arts is so full of uncertainty, a lot of us could do with a visit from a more successful future to just let us know that there’s a little bit of hope. And sometimes we could do with a little reminder of our milestones, as we sit in that future that doesn’t feel nearly as successful as it would seem to our younger selves.

We all have friends who have given up. We’ve all considered giving up ourselves. A little visitor from the future with good news would be really so sustaining. If a future me came to tell me a story like one of these, I’d be charged up for a long time.

But, of course, let’s say I did manage to time travel and tell my playwright friend the story of the cashier at the bookshop. Odds are he wouldn’t believe me, or believe I was from the future. But I guess the me back then could have just made something up on one of those days hope was in short supply. I could have claimed to be back with a message from the future and maybe a little faith would sneak in. I could try that now and I wouldn’t even have to get a time machine.

If someone had told me I would be quoted in a book, I’d have been astonished and delighted.

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Lovely!  And you can time travel

Comment by vlowery2f3e459693




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