TAKING THE LONG WAY





**My friends from High School marry their High School Boyfriends**

This week I learned that an old friend from Secondary School was getting married this July in Dublin, this closely followed news from another friend, Shari in London, that she’d been recently proposed to and had accepted her suitor’s offer.
To further add to the marriage commotion, one of my best friends who lives in Belgium, was inquiring about music bands to play at her own wedding in four years time. Talk about taking it slow.

It had begun. I can’t help but feel nostalgic upon learning that close friends my age or people I know or barely know begin to marry their sweethearts. There comes a point when we realize that we need to start growing up and that we should begin to take life perhaps more seriously by settling or by settling down.

I began to imagine my settled life and didn’t quite get the vision I was hoping for. Maybe someday I’ll settle down with someone. I really can’t say how this would work in the future. However, I do know that there is someone out there for me. Depending on how I style my hair, either curled or straight, there are days when I like the idea of being attached to that someone special. But then again I get sceptical and frightened; like I’m sure many other people out there do, who ask themselves, “Is this it? Is this the person I’m going to be with for the rest of my life?”

It’s a tough decision to make, and we should also be aware that we don’t necessarily have to be attached to them all the time. That happiness doesn’t ultimately come from a wedding and a baby and a house in the suburbs. Our own happiness is not dependant on other people or material things, although they alter that ‘happy effect’.
Many people think that married life is the end of it all, that you are suddenly cut of from the rest of the world. But it doesn’t have to be like that. We each make our life how we want it to be. I’m sure a marriage will work just as well in a city under whatever circumstances, like it would by settling down in the suburbs.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, we shouldn’t be put off settling down, to welcome that opportunity when it comes to us, other wise it will be lost forever, but to do it our own way, even if it’s the long way.


**I met the Queen of whatever, drank with the Irish spoke with the hippies, moved with the Shakers, wouldn’t kiss all the asses that they told me to**

I did meet the Queen of England once, only from afar at Royal Ascot (Horse Races).
I have worked at a Palace before, not a royal one unfortunately, where I worked my ass off, but didn’t kiss anybody’s ass. Most of the jobs I’ve had have been demanding on my part. Mainly being a bitch for people and doing what is asked. I guess that is how one starts off. To make our way up we must start at the bottom, its only logical and the way we learn.

Since arriving in New York, this has been so. It’s a sacrifice I was willing to put up with if I’m going to get where I want to be.

I have drunk with the Irish, and they can hold their drink. I’m slowly learning to hold my drink too and make it to work the following day after being out the previous night until 4am and have no hang over.

I haven’t spoken to hippies, but I have spoken to people from all walks of live. Living in Europe, gives you the opportunity to meet people from different cultures and get a chance to experience that at the rate of a low cost air flight.
Here in America, although New York City is very multicultural, one doesn’t get that opportunity for ‘escapism’ into other cultures. Sure you can take the train to ‘Canal Street’ and believe you are in the middle of Beijing itself, or take a ride uptown to ‘East Harlem’ and believe you are in Puerto Rico. But there remains a fact; you are still in New York City and everyone is out for them selves and you are not always guaranteed the same warm welcome one would expect in the original country.

**It’s been two long years now since the world came crashing down, and I’m getting it back on the road, but I’m taking the long way**

Yes, it’s been two years since my own world came crashing down on me. I was dating someone for almost 3 years and I thought that this would be it, that he was the ‘one’. I was very much in love and believed in the ‘always an forever’. How wrong was I when it crashed on me. My future hopes and dreams with this person went with it. It was a pretty miserable time, that lead to my depression and a severe attack of acne that at times had me wishing I were someone else. I was sure that I could have settled down with him, but now I look at the world and relationships differently. I tend to hold back and almost create a barrier to stop giving all my feelings away so I don’t get hurt again. If you read the last passage of the first chapter of “my book”, (on this website) you’ll get an idea of how terrible a time this was, wanting a solution, a way out; escapism.

This time round I’m almost jumping up and down with joy as I’m slowly realising my dreams, one of them to live here in New York City. Yes of all places I chose NYC! I guess the sacrifices I’ve made in the past are paying off as I’m seeing, this week alone, dreams do come true. I could say that I’ve signed a three-year contract with the U.S.A. But I don’t hold a limit as to how long I’ll be here for. I’ve managed to turn things round for me and I find myself on top of the world, my world that is.

When other people want to move out of the city I ask myself why? I know it’s tough, expensive, lonely, claustrophobic, too cold in the winter, too hot in the summer, grimy, dirty, rats chasing people off the sidewalk, tourists falling into potholes, friends come and go like a Marc Jacobs bag. But it is a city that doesn’t sleep, ever, not even during 9/11, so we shouldn’t take the winter off to hibernate. The city is still awake in the winter so why should you be fast asleep during this period?

I’m not saying that the way to beat the city is to join it and never sleep, but to make it our own. Over the last few years, I learned that we each have the power of contentment in any situation we find ourselves in.

I was sold on the ‘American Dream’ and I’m here, realizing that potential. It is my home for the next foreseeable future and I plan to make it my own and take advantage of its true potential, of what New York really has to offer. Yes I came here for career potential, and the prospect of filmmaking, that doesn’t mean I’m coming to milk the city of all it has and get the fuck off back to pretty old England, hell no. (I love New York, but I love London better by the way) If I’m going to remain here, I plan to see beyond what other people think of this city.

New York is not for pussies who scream about “the rats on the subway”, about “there is no place to go”, or “I have no money to go there” about “I hate going to Brooklyn” about “The drug dealers on the corner” or those who moan about, “The mice in my apartment”. I plan to make it my own, like I am right now, by not being a pussy and sticking to my gut feelings and enjoy the city come snow, rain or shine, even if I take the long way round.

Next Blog: April 1st.

DOG, BE MY RANDOM CHAT



St Patrick’s day New York style is unlike any I’ve experienced before. Everyone in the city goes out, full wing. The streets become rampant with drunken people from very early on in the day until very very late at night. If that wasn’t all, there is also a parade along Fifth Avenue to accompany the celebrations of this Holiday. I failed to make it to the parade, much for the same reason I failed to make it to the Thanksgiving parade. The weather. However I did make it to an Irish pub down in the East Village. Getting a drink at the bar became a mission, multitudes of people flocked to the bar, as if getting wasted was a principality of this Holiday. Waiting in line to order, a woman and her boyfriend who were in front of me, saw that I was trying to get to the front and kindly suggested that they would order for me and pass down the drinks. There is something about the Irish people that make them pleasant even when drunk.

Lately I’ve been subject to random chats from strangers who stop me in the street, the gym, and general public places simply to have a conversation.
A couple of weeks ago at the gym, thirsty from a workout I make my way to the water fountain to cool off, I notice a woman talking on her mobile phone, so I cut in front of her as she carries on talking down the phone. A few minutes pass and I continue with my work out, ipod playing full volume, searching for a free weight machine, I feel a tap on my shoulder. The ipod goes to pause and I turn to see the same woman whom I’d just seen talking on the phone.
“I was supposed to have a yoga class with my friend, but she forgot to mention which gym, now I’ve to go to a different gym and meet her” she went on. I was trying to be sympathetic and at the same time trying to understand why me off all people, I didn’t want to hear her life story. She took off within moments.

Another day, this time walking outside the gym, heading towards the subway on ‘Houston Street’, again ipod playing full volume. Another girl, heading on the opposite direction I’m walking, approaches me. She is on phone and at the same time is asking me for directions. Turns out she was looking for Houston Street, the same direction I was already walking to.
I carry on walking and she does the same next to me. Within seconds she starts a conversation, asking me where I was heading. Being polite I answered, looking up ahead to see that I was only three blocks from the subway.
“Where are you from” she asks. “London” I replied, and with that she went on to tell me she used to date this guy from England, Berkshire somewhere and also that she did a semester in London through her NYU college, and we have a small conversation about old England.

Earlier this week as I waited for the elevator at work, a random woman also started a conversation, with my lunch in hand, eager to get to my desk upstairs and eat it.
“Does it taste nice?” she asks, “Excuse me?” I reply trying to make sense of what I’m being asked. “The drink, I saw you take a sip and you made a weird face,” she says.
I had just taken a sip from and Ice-tea, blackberry flavour that I’ve never tried before and my taste buds were registering this new flavour. We go on to have a small conversation about my food and how my expression wouldn’t sell it to her, just until the elevator made its way down to the ground floor and I made my way back up to enjoy my meal regardless of what some random woman in the building thought of it.

It doesn’t just stop there, I’ve had two people come up to me and ask me for directions in Spanish, out of nowhere. How do they know I also speak Spanish? This is very bizarre.

The weekend after Roxy continued in the same drinking flow. I’m neither an alcoholic nor a binge drinker I kept telling myself. (I hadn’t mentioned this, but last time I was at Roxy back in August 2006, I got very drunk and ended up being sick somewhere in the back of the dance floor) Sunday night, just recovering from a hung over, I joined old mates in the East Village for ‘Calimochos’ and some catching up.
The same could be said for Monday night. After work I joined my friends for dinner at the ‘Sunburnt Cow’. The service was slow, as it always is on a Monday night, for it being $5 night, any meal, so the drinks where on the house.
Charles was persuading me to go to an event his work was throwing after. I couldn’t possibly carry on. I needed rest. A couple more drinks later I found myself back in the 60s, where everyone looked like they’ve just stepped out a ‘Beatles’ music video, in this dingy cave of a bar, not very brightly lit, this was a PR event for the induction of Ronnie Spector into the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame.
I got talking to Steve West from the 80s rock band ‘Danger Danger’. That’s right I’ve never heard of them either! But he was very welcoming and very nice to chat to, especially about British music and venues he has played at. For his age, maybe late 30s early 40s he looked good.

Tuesday night I got taken for a dog. ‘A bone was placed on my nose’ if one can say that? I could’ve gone out that night for more drinking, but a friend, funny as he is, thought it would be amusing to suggest a fourth night in-a -row of drinking. I decline with the intention that I would’ve. Turns out he was just waving the bone in front of me to see if I could carry on drinking, I was fully recovered, but that night I needed to detox, so I ventured into the gym for a much-needed run and more rigorous exercise.

Wednesday night I was invited to the New York City Opera at the Lincoln Centre uptown. ‘Madama Butterfly’ as invigorating as it is, I was falling asleep during the first act, but paid much more close attention the following two acts. It was in Italian with English subtitles playing above the stage. I found the story of impossible love tragic. Can a human being love another human being so much that they are willing to sacrifice their whole life in wait?
There aren’t many stories like that in the present day, but I guess the tragedy of relationships still exists. Love as it seems is not what it used to be. But the possibilities of finding love still remain and we shall all go forth in our own wait until we no longer have to say, “Be mine” and actually believe that we HAVE that love we’ve been waiting for. (Without the tragedy that is).

NO LIMITS: JUST DANCE



The week began much like the previous one had ended; busy. I had three nights of consecutive live bands since last Thursday. After my LOGO event last week, I joined a friend for his birthday dinner at a Cuban restaurant where a live Cuban band was playing. This bought some memories of my childhood as some of the rhythm of the music had similarities to that style of music I grew up listening to back in Colombia.
My music tastes are anything but Latin nowadays and I would say my tastes are eclectic, ranging from one extreme to the other.

Last Friday I saw Semi Precious Weapons; if you read my Blog last week you’ll know. Saturday (which I didn’t get to write about because it’s the day that I write my Blogs from a coffee shop in the West Village) I saw Jay Brennan, an acoustic guitar player and singer. There is something about seeing people perform live, good performers that make you feel more drawn to them and their music.

Jay sang about real events that have occurred to him, about boyfriends and life in general which made it all worthwhile as I could relate to some of songs and at times felt that I could have written them. Sometimes all gay men go through mirroring faces in life; coming out to your parents, our first time with another guy, the pursuit of a boyfriend or Mr Right, getting out hearts broken and general gay life itself.
My favourite two songs of him were ‘I Want to be a Housewife’ and ‘Body’s a Temple’; because they each talk about wanting to obtain the unattainable and at the same time having no limitations about what we wish for ourselves. Is not that I want to be a housewife right now, I’m sure I could be with out the need to move to the suburbs and sell my live away with endless cooking and cleaning. But is about wanting to attain that stability in my life with out limitations or expectations that sometimes draw boundaries in everyday life.

I guess my pursuit for some meaning in my life has lead me to a quest in Kabbalah, Spiritual Enlightenment, and The Power of Now, which in itself is positive thinking and being in the present.
I keep reminding myself of why I chose to come to New York, to have suddenly dropped everything in London, my work, my home comforts, my friends, my family all for the pursuit of something I keep questioning. (And no I wasn’t running away from anything or anyone)

I didn’t set myself limitations in what I could achieve. Its not that I had a big Ego and wanted to show people off and say, “Hey I’m in New York, where the fuck are you?” It was more like “Who said I couldn’t do it?” I’ve always wanted to live in New York and make it here by working in Television and Film.
I didn’t see the implications my planned trip to the states had last summer, but I managed to work round them, not knowing what would happen upon my arrival, sticking to my guts, living on savings and no income at all. Then the month I had intended to stay for passed and I stayed on for three, then I had to work my way round the immigration red-tape to stay longer (legal of course). I didn’t set myself a limit of how long I was going to stay and to this day I don’t even know how much longer I’ll remain in New York for and I would have kicked my self, if in later years I found myself in London asking myself why I didn’t make this trip; a journey in my life.

Monday night confirmed my reasons of why I’m here. To make films. I was at the premiere of a documentary called ‘Addiction’; it’s made up of collective shorter documentaries, one of which, the production company I work for made. It tells the stories of different people, young and old, with problems of narcotic and alcohol addiction and how they are struggling to overcome it. (Sophie Dahl also attended may I add).
There in the audience I remembered last week’s invitation to MTV LOGO and the connections that I made. I somehow wanted to involve my work in film and the gay community. If volunteering for GLAAD and telling a Gay TV Network that you have a documentary planned then what do I call desperation? Yes I had also just done that! I volunteered to work for Gay And Lesbians Against Defamation. Why? Why not! I don’t set myself limits I only know the boundaries. But it seemed perfectly understandable to be with an organization that is involved in the Media. I had made my connections with LOGO, now I have to use them wisely.

As the week progressed I found a new friend in an IT Consultant who promised to help me organize and create new emails for my co-workers. This was closely followed by more rigorous hours at the gym, to which I’m still not convinced my body is changing, maybe it’s me and I need someone other than me to tell me so.

****************************************************************************

Right now I can’t be arsed to write anything more. All the above was written on Friday and now its Sunday and I really don’t want to be thinking of what to write. But I guess I must make an effort to finish it somehow. And why can’t I be arsed to write? I blame Roxy.

Thursday and Friday at my Personal Assistant job, I contemplated why I was doing what I was doing. I was tired from Wednesday nights outing to ‘Hell’s Kitchen’ and it seemed all the late nights were accumulating rapidly and I began to see dark circles under my eyes. I needed sleep. Badly. But not even sleep could prepare me for what I face on these two days. Miranda and her husband broke into a plain argument that could have started World War Three. After a couple of hours rearranging files and furniture, they both question their position in the office, one pointing where it should go, the other saying it wouldn’t look good there. “Will someone tell me where to put this filing cabinet?” I ask myself.
“No it can’t go there,” she says. I’ve never seen a couple argue about the position of furniture, the way they did. I was in the middle of the crossfire. Not that it was any of my fault; I was just there to lend a helping hand. I didn’t know what to do, either do I look away? Or just move out of the picture? “Here, is this how you want it?” the husband said now being passive aggressive and arranging the filing cabinet in the way he thought Miranda would be pleased. “No, just leave it, you are not listening to me,” she continued.” “Min, I don’t know what you are asking me, I’m leaving” and with that he took off into his upstairs office, reconsidering his move into a joint office with his wife. By Friday they were a normal couple again. Brilliant. But how do they manage? How do they handle each other? I guess they’ve been together long enough to withstand anything, and I admire that in couples who have been together for years and still manage to make it work, even through the roughest of arguments.


The weekend saw the return of Hamilton at his best. I picked up my camcorder in I don’t know how many months and started filming my ‘Subject’; a friend who agreed to let me capture him on film for the next foreseeable future. I was pleased I was beginning my small documentary project, and sought other friends who wanted to be part of my ‘Subjects’ project. Who says I can’t do it? I have no limitations and the more I wait for things to happen or for things to come to my lap the more I’ll be kicking myself in when I realize they haven’t come or I haven’t ventured out for them. The idea of course came from watching “Addiction”. I had a brilliant plan to make a documentary involving gay men and lesbian women overcoming their struggles. (More of this as I find out what shape the film is taking)

Saturday night I went to the ‘Last Dance’ at Roxy, one of New York’s most famous clubs. It was the last time it was opening its doors to the public and I wanted to be part of this historic closing. What am I talking about? I just wanted to dance. And danced I did till 6am in the morning, until my feet couldn’t take it anymore, until the sweat of my body began to dry, until the alcohol wore off and I could dance no more, until dawn broke and Roxy was no more.

Next Blog: March 18th

LEARNING TO FLY



(Press play)

At the start of the week I panicked. I thought there would be very little that I could write about for this week’s Blog. However that changed as the days progressed and I filled them up with various events.

Last weekend I met up with Mr G for dinner and a movie. ‘Bad idea’ I know. Considering it had only been 3 days since our amicable break-up. But that’s all it was, an amicable dinner with an amicable movie.
I couldn’t help but wonder, seating there in the theatre watching ‘Breach’, starring Ryan Philippe, if I should make a move and attempt to hold his hand just like we did in the past when we went to see movies, when we were still together.
No. This was strictly amicable. I began to wonder why he’d invited me out to dinner, and suggested a movie. I thought that after the break-up there would be period where he wouldn’t want to talk or vice versa. I guess he didn’t want to cut me off completely. But I also didn’t want to get confused by this new amicability we were reaching. I had to consider my feelings.
As the movie ended and we walked out, an ironic thought came to my head. I realized where we were standing; the same theatre in Chelsea we had come to on our first date. This was where it had all started and now ironically, was where it was ending.

We departed in separate directions. I walked away with a new sense of freedom. The conversation was over and there was nothing left to say. Sometimes we all have to learn to walk away with our pride intact and our dignity high. There is no use digging up what is dead to check if is still alive. I was flying solo and I was all the better for it; I was single in New York City.

By Monday at the office the mood was strangely familiar. Somehow it felt like last week’s sombre mood. By the end of the day I understood why. Two of my co-workers who had promising romantic inclinations, suddenly found themselves having their possible relationships terminated.
Are people scared of long term-relationships or any sort of relationships, that as soon as they see signs of full on commitment, they run scared because they see their lives cut short?
It doesn’t have to be like this. My co-workers and I argued that people don’t often want the responsibilities that come with a relationship, opting to fly out when it gets serious because they freak out.
I remembered a conversation I had last Sunday with my Kabbalah and Spiritual guru. When it comes to relationships we shouldn’t expect anything from the other person; nothing, zilch. I found this very hard to grasp. Why? I asked. Relationships are based on trust and honesty aren’t they? I was also wrong. Honesty, yes but not trust.

So here I was being told that I shouldn’t expect anything from who ever it is that I date and also not to trust them. I was beginning to comprehend this and put this teaching to practice. When we set our selves expectations such as to think that the other person is going to do this and that for us. That he or she is going to be there for us. That he or she is going to make me happy and give me what I need. That he or she is going to love me. That he or she will be there when I need them the most. If we believe all the above then we are only setting our selves for bigger disappointment when they don’t deliver what we expect from them. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t have a meaningful relationship when we feel that the other person is not fulfilling our needs or that they aren’t delivering in the bedroom. Instead, rather than focus on imperfection (because nobody is perfect) we should focus on the things that they do give us, on the positive things and on why we are grateful for them while having no expectations. This, I believe is called “Pure Unconditional Non-judgemental Love”. If people end a relationship because they feel “it’s going nowhere” or because “you no longer are the person I want to be with” or “I feel it’s not going to work” or “I’m just not that into you,” then it all means bullshit.

The trust part I also learnt from my mother “Don’t confide in anybody, not even the blanket that keeps you warm at night because you never know when it’s going to unwrap you and make you cold” she’d say to me. At the time, probably five years ago, I couldn’t comprehend what this meant or how I was meant to apply it to my daily life.
Slowly this sentence has unfolded before my eyes. Surely we can have some sort of trust, but what it means to me is that we should reserve some trust to ourselves before we get more disappointment. Her other advice to me was not to fall in love. I should have listened when I saw my three-year relationship come to an end in 2005. “Why don’t children listen to their parents?”

As the week progressed I learnt that my good friend and neighbour was going into rehab for the next month. I knew this was a good step for him, as he’d been relapsing since my return from London in January. He apologized for his behaviour and for excluding me out of his life the last couple of months and enlisted me to use my good interior organization skills on his apartment while he was away. I made and effort to meet for breakfast on Thursday morning and shared some advice. It seems as thought we humans become too dependent on objects, substances, people and various other things. We shouldn’t get attached to them nor take them for granted. What will we do when they are no longer available to us? What will we do when they stop fulfilling our needs? We have to learn to fly on our own accord; without expectations.

Thursday day at my Personal Assistant job to a similar ‘Miranda Priestly’ and her husband, was improving dramatically. I somehow had more attention and my mind was clearer to be more involved in the work. Previous occasions my work had been lacking, as there seemed to be a lot on my mind. This time round situations had shifted and changed and I was showing what I was capable of.

Later that night I attended the MTV Networks, LOGO, and Out in Television & Film “What Are You Laughing At? Understanding Gay TV Comedy.” I felt privileged to have been invited to the event and meet other ‘gay men’ working in the same field of industry as I was. I was slowly realizing my potential of involving myself in the gay community and involving it with my career in film. (More of this next week.)

By the end of the week I was dreading the Semi Precious Weapons concert in Brooklyn, but none the less look forward to it. Last time the lead singer of the band and I had had met, had ended in a drunkenness confrontation of offensive words from my part. I knew that I had written to him and apologized, but I wanted to make the effort and see him in person and make sure everything was ‘cool’.

Friday night, after a ‘tapas dinner’ with friends in the East Village I made it to ‘Europa’, where the band had been schedule to perform. They were great as ever. Being as glam and flamboyant as they can possibly be. I remembered I had created a group on ‘Facebook’ for them because there wasn’t any that listed this growing rock band. Justin, the lead singer, was kind enough to acknowledge me as he walked past, even calling my name “Hey Hamilton”. Then I knew this ‘Watergate’ period was over and everything was ‘cool’. He remembered my name!

Next Blog: Sunday March 11th