i’m sorry southern california, but i don’t always feel like sunshine

a fact to face: life is never easy. anyone who says otherwise is an ignorant liar.  not to discredit life’s pleasures, but instead i wish to acknowledge the challenging circumstances that occur naturally by virtue of existing in this world.  let’s face it.  bad things happen to “good” people, there is war without rectitude, unnecessary famine, disease, divorce, you name it.

let’s not dwell on the negative here.  without hurt, pain, loss, and helplessness how are we to learn, grow, or become stronger?  please don’t misunderstand, i am by no means a masochist.  if there was no bad, then there would be no use for good.  everything would be status-quot, a plateau without a slope, there would be no balance.  if there wasn’t anything bad, then how would we define good?  mistakes have to happen, pain must be endured.  it’s all part of the bigger plan.  things must die to be reborn.

even though it’s difficult, i’m a fan of life. i savor it, the highs, the lows, the mundane. it’s exciting, and it’s happening right in front of my eyes. don’t let me be bored, don’t let me be static and without complex layers.  let me understand.  pull the rug out from under me, take me by surprise, and kick me while im down.  it’s better than the alternative; for now.

sometimes, most times, rain sounds more appealing that sun.  bring on the big, dark nimbus clouds.

the glamour of minivan living

recently i took a moment to look at all the junk that i carry with me in my minivan.  everything from clothes to my ipod to fast food wrappers full of partially eaten hamburger carcasses to shoes i forgot i owned to diet coke cans that rattle under the seats, i even have half of my old band gear just sitting in the back.  these discoveries made me think about how much time i spend in my maroon, banged-up dodge caravan.  between driving to RSA in west hollywood two days a week and commuting to san diego most weekends to visit my wonderful girlfriend natalie, a considerable amount of my weekly hours are used up sitting behind the wheel.  for as tiring as these ventures are, sitting in the suicide known as los angeles traffic, i have a lot of time to think.  i actually get to slow down and relax in a funny sort of way.  just by turning on some tunes and coasting at a smooth 5pmh in bumber to bumper i can breathe.  i used to get frustrated and depressed at the thought of the wasted hours in my van, but now i see the silver lining.  amidst my crazy college life: two jobs, girlfriend, classes, film projects, and social on-goings, i have multiple hours a week to soak it all in and reflect on my blessings.  and my troubles.

i eat sleep, live and breathe in my tin can on wheels.  its a glamorous life i lead.

who is tyler hawks?

i come from the generation of squeeze-its, light up sneakers, the original nintendo, and the live action ninja turtles.  duck tales brought us to new places, bobby’s world was our world, and we never did find carmen san diego (but we did find waldo).  we read goosebumps and took plastic cartoon lunchboxes to school.  we played in the mcdonalds playgrounds for hours at a time.  everything was settled by rock, paper, scissors.  we determined the outcomes of our lives with silly little paper contraptions.  we settled all disputes by responding, “talk to the hand…”  we recorded tv shows on a VCR.  and we listened to greenday before they sold out.  this was in the decade before…  myspace, xbox, spongebob, dvd players, gas was $4.00 p/gal, ipods, and txt msgs. while our helicopter parents grew up in the radical culture of the 60’s we experienced the radical uprising called y2k, when computers took over the world.  now we take the world for granted because it’s right at our fingertips on the world wide web.  now reality tv is our classroom for the drama in our ever so desperate lives.  now we are chained  to cellphones and facebook is our primary source of social living.  our pop culture is sexploitation. our disease is apathy and it’s spreading from our generation to the next.  thnks fr th mmrs.

amidst my hypocritical babble, i love technology.  it helps me do what i do best. telling stories.

im a vagrant dreamer.  i am an observer of the human condition.  a sidewalk artist.  a prophet. i am passionate in my aspirations.  im here for the thrill of the fall.  this is my story.