One is the loneliest number. But that's the way we get by. I'm listening to Brittany Murphy sing Faster Kill Pussycat. The song that introduced me to Paul Oakenfold and I never even realized it featured her. I'm a little sadder now. I've made a playlist with one song from all of my favorite bands. It's just about reached 200 songs. I have very little to complain about. I realize that I truthfully am very accepting of all art forms. I think it has to do with me as an actor. I have to be able to justify any point of view. If I play an 18 year old serial killer I have to be able to say "he deserved it" will full conviction. If I play a middle-aged transvestite I have to be able to put on heels and enjoy it. If I play a dying grandfather I have to cry about my wasted life as if it had already passed. I'm convinced that every human being has their own sanity as long as they are human. Any portrait or sculpture has a purpose and justification for existing. Every song or strum of the guitar is beautiful to somebody. Each short story or gossip column has its value. Each photograph has its unspoken words. I see the best in things. I suppose its my biggest flaw. So I hide it. I'm argumentative, critical, and sometimes I'm just mean. Plain old mean. I just want the world to know that I'm constantly making the conscious decision to disagree.I love beauty. And I'm very good at seeing beauty in all things. And by some jealous urge I suppress my compliments and instead point out flaws. If I just said that everything was dandy nothing would happen. The artist would be content and stop there. By some sort of deep-seated altruism in my heart I want people to succeed above all. Telling them they aren't doing enough pushes any self-respecting artist to that success. The greatest compliment I've ever received was from my acting teacher last year: "You're a thinker. Stop that."
I love you all more than you can know. I just show it in a very... VERY different way. If your wondering what the picture is about, its Russian surgeon Leonid Rogozov performing an auto-appendectomy in an Antarctic military base when no other trained staff were available for months. He didn't use anesthetics. The surgery lasted an hour and forty-five minutes and he never lost consciousness. What a guy.
