Kaz S. Matamura

“I think I am getting bitter as I age,” I told my mother when she called me to wish me happy birthday.

She said, “Well, you are always a cynical one.”

Swiftly, I changed the subject by talking about her one eyed cat that drooled a lot.  I just didn’t want her to start talking about the time when I tried to run away from home at age 3.  She likes to tell the same old stories of her angry daughter.

She is right.  She is ALWAYS right.  She is the kind of debater who states the facts first so you cannot argue, and then force you to agree with her viewpoints.  A well-trained master Yoda attorney, that’s what she is, and she looks like Yoda, too.

Plus she is my mother.  How can I argue with someone who changed my diaper?

When I was younger, being cynical meant smart and quick.  “She can play with irony!  She is funny!”   But now, I must admit.  I don’t want to be a bitter old woman.

Merrium-Wester defines cynical as:  “contemptuously distrustful of human nature and motives.”

That is so me.

I hate people.

I especially hate people who want to be liked.  Why?  Because they don’t care what you need or want.  They only care about what THEY want: “to be loved, to be accepted and get what they want outta you!”  So, overly nice people are a big turn off.  Kind, gentle, listener – yes.  Fake smile, self-promoting suckers – enjoy the view of the back of my head.

As I age, I just give up trying to deny it, but I am accepting it.   I am bitter.

Why is that? My life is good.  But have I done anything for my joy?

I started working at an early age.  Acting was fun – till it became a job.  Writing was rejuvenating – till deadlines started crowding my head.  And the theatre … owning my own theatre and producing whatever I wanted to do, in dreamy (“north”) HOLLYWOOD?  That was an “oh-my-God-I-cannot-believe-I-am-doing-this” job to any foreign girl who came here with nothing.

But after 10 plus years, it got boring.  Producing is mechanical; you just go through a checklist.  Granted, each production is so vastly different, but my initial inspiration is not with me anymore.

Ambition and passion were my choice of drugs.  Creating something new, challenging and nearly impossible ignited a vibrant intensity within me.

I had only me and myself to make things happen, no matter what.

And I did that.  I made things happen.  Quite easily.  Easier than I thought.  Producing is just like acting.  There isn’t much secrecy to it.  It’s not that difficult.  It’s an old business that previous generations proved what works. It is an art form – craftsmanship and inspiration.

But I lost that inspiration.  I became a crafty producer.  What happened to my creative madness?

Then, a birthday present from the universe, disguised as serendipity, happened recently.

My boyfriend is an artist, a photographer.  This one is not just creative, he actually creates.

One night, we were sitting at the table, surmising that Yoko Ono was actually a pretty girl.   She wasn’t considered pretty then, because the sensibilities of beauty were different.  He pulled his laptop out, to Google her image.  The first one popped out was the very last photo of them together, the cover of the Rolling Stone magazine, the picture of a naked John Lennon curling in a fetus position next to Yoko.  My boyfriend mumbled “I want to take that picture with you.”

I heard it, but didn’t put too much thought to it.

He is a pretty mellow fellow.  But when he sees something he wants to shoot, he would scream  “Agggh!  Don’t move!  I’ll get a camera,” and he means it, even when my hair is dripping wet from the shower.  In a darker room.  In a slow speed shot that I have to hold 20 min.  When inspiration hits him, he has to photograph what he sees when he sees it.

After the night at the dining table, he bugged me till I brought a pair of jeans and a black sweater, just like Yoko wore in the picture.  Then that afternoon, he called his best friend, a very talented photographer.  While he was awaiting his arrival, he dragged a futon mattress in the studio, sat the tall ladder next to it, and covered it with a sheet.  He framed the shot.  As soon as his friend got to the studio, he took his clothes off.  Lucky him, it was a hot day.  During the shoot, we all realized that Lennon was a true Yoga man.  No red meat eating Westerner can curl himself like that.  He bugged his friend (who was also a perfectionist) till he got the right (or better) pictures.

When he was going through the pictures, I almost asked him “why do you want to do that?”

I stopped myself.  Oh my god, I realized, I used to despise someone asking that.  “WHY DO YOU WANT TO DO THAT?”

My answer was “Because … I WANT TO DO IT.”

It’s not about money, recognition, compliments.  It was about DOING something that feels right.

When I started as a theatre artist, I had a lot of ideas.  But over the years, these ideas remained as unborn fetuses in my mind.  By not trying out ideas, my inspiration suffered a creative traffic jam.  I know if I just get it all out, I could make room for more ideas.

There is not good creativity or bad creativity.    For example, Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa may look like she is staring at you directly, while Little Timmy’s drawing of his dog may have five legs.  True – Da Vinci’s painting may offer the vast history and the timeless shared experience of his talent.  However, Little Timmys painting may mean a lot more to his grandma who had to give away her dog that she could no longer take care of – it’s all random and subjective impressions.

Little Timmy and Da Vinci have something in common: they saw something, and made it tangible.  If they didn’t do that, their creativity couldn’t vibrate to others.

In schools, arts programs turned into repetitious conditioned activity.  I want kids to go nuts, to open themselves up and let it out.  AND most teachers do not realize when they tell some kids “Oh you are so good at it,” they are not teaching art, but actually damaging their creativity.

Why?  Because Art/Creativity is not about results.  The teacher is just giving one person’s opinion.  The purpose of art is to communicate. Praise on the finished product is a hindrance to creativity.   Because you direct their creativity to make it agreeable with someone else’s opinion.  Why don’t we all LET IT BE.  Please encourage creating, the action itself.  Do not judge – do not tell how good it is, because when you are not saying it, it may say, to other kids, it is not GOOD ENOUGH, and discourage them.  Praise the action.   Nothing makes me happier than seeing kids enjoying the moments of play.

It is not about doing good.  Expectation prevents the free play of thought and the free movement of awareness and attention.  Creativity is natural, organic and flexible.  It allows you to communicate the feeling or urge you have within you.  You may not know what it is, but once you are able to put it out there, it may reach something deep in others, and it will ease the pain of loneliness, the most incurable disease.

My problem was I was always good at what I did.  I expected myself to do well.  I wanted to do good, but somehow forgot the joy of the process.

I may still grow up to be an old bitter woman.  But now, I want to focus on what I can do, rather than what I do well.

What a grand time we all live in.

Happy birth day everyday to our precious minds, all divine creativity on this planet.

Enjoy the ride on this journey, rather than worry about the destination.