Two of the easiest words to say, often withheld like both syllables were bored from a vein of platinum. It's easy enough to say them. We should make it more of a habit.
As creatives, we don't always get paid for our work, especially when we're staring at the dust under our heels, standing on the ground floor. We frequently aren't paid proportionally to our efforts or the rewards for whom we're laboring. Sometimes, we have to give a lot more that we can't exactly quantify on an expense account like it's an episode of Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar.
(btw, YTJD is one of those properties that I would write almost out of love, The Green Lama being another, so if someone needs a writer, well, you know... one of these times, remind me to talk about what we'd do for the Klondike Bar of our creative dreams)
One of my interests is costuming. Not just helping sew and design for the theater, but actually getting dressed up in outfits and playing Major Attention Sponge at comic conventions and similar gatherings. For many years, I've admired the costumers who've sewn their outfits and crafted their bodies to more closely resemble their favorite characters from TV, movies, comic books, anime, whatever.
I followed their activities for years before deciding to become one of them, albeit nowhere near the leagues of some of my friends. Some of them make appearances at childrens hospitals, military bases, and other places where people could use a smile from a four-color personality.
The municipality of Metropolis, Illinois pops up in this blog frequently. This is no accident. Some of the most creative, kindest people make their ways there, if they don't live there already. Here's one more love letter to them.
Noel Neill is more than an actress and singer. She's more then just the Lois Lane of the serials and all but the first season of the classic Adventures of Superman television program. Since 2003, she's been the official "First Lady of Metropolis" and deservedly so. Well, to honor her career in show business a few years ago, the Superman Celebration put on a gala '40s-themed dance ball. Needless to say, I had to be different (something I'd heard since first grade).
I designed a Victorian tuxedo in the colors of Superman, which my wife Cookie (that's her real name ... we just nicknamed her "Carol") sewed with a little (tragically little) assistance from me. The pants and jacket were blue, the vest was firehouse red, and we sewed the famous S-shield onto the lapels and the back of the red opera cape. We also constructed a belt that matched the design of the classic uniform. We rounded out the ensemble with red trainers (there's only so much discomfort I was ready to endure) in lieu of finding the correct shade of formal shoe. With a pair of red suspenders and a bright yellow shirt to match the hue of the chest and cloak emblem, we were ready to go.
We received compliments for the outfit, mostly for the moxie it took to wear it. Later on, I wore it for the 2010 Gen Con Costume Contest and received a special judge's commendation for its imagination (and the word "weirdest" did pop up). Plus, I got my ego fed for all the pics that were taken, one of which wound up on Wikipedia.
(for those of you who aren't in the know, Gen Con is held annually in Indianapolis and is the largest game-related convention in North America. It is four solid days of gaming and good gamer vibe as well as massive love from Indy who knows how to make out-of-towners feel like family)
So to follow up, this year my wife and I crafted a costume based on Uncle Dudley Marvel. You see, I admire the costumers who will "become" a character, despite not fitting the original's silhouette (can you tell I watch too much Project Runway?). This is far from a criticism. If being their fave hero or heroine makes them happy, then why the heck not dress up? God bless them for it, I say!
(for those who came in late -- sorry Phantom fans -- Uncle Marvel was really a lovable con man who accompanied Captain Marvel, Mary Marvel, and Captain Marvel, Jr. in their adventures ... one of the most memorable was when Dudley tricked their most powerful foe, Black Adam, into uttering his magic word that robbed him of his magical abilities)
Anyway, I dressed up as Uncle Marvel (and even entered the costume contest) and immediately upon entering the Indianapolis Convention Center, I was asked if I minded having my picture taken. After a half dozen of these requests, I started saying, "Do you this I'd be dressed like this if I didn't want my picture taken?"
Cookie was having lower back problems so I carried her backpack as often as I could. But the longest I could carry it was around a minute before someone asked to take my picture (and Lord knows how many were taken without asking). Fortunately, I'd worked out a pose: pointing at the camera, the other hand on my hip usually, and with a big smile.
Sure, it was tiring to pose, to find a place to pose where I wasn't blocking the aisles, and to organize a crowd so everyone got a "smile and a point" of their own. Also, I couldn't really eat or drink a lot for fear of spilling on my uniform. Mostly, I rinsed out my mouth with a quick swallow of water, ready to pose once again.
However, as the day wore on, more and more con-goers, young and old, male and female, thanked me for making them smile and reminding them of a time of their youth they treasured, a story they read long ago and ached to read again, or just being upbeat and cheerful amidst the sturm und drang of some videogame/anime/comic characters. And the ladies didn't seem to mind putting their arms around Ol' Dudley ... I'm married, but I retain a pulse, okay?
And Cookie delighted -- although she's loathe to admit it -- in watching the smiles and hearing the compliments for her work. I was just the model. She was the designer and the one who truly "made it work."
Once I realized it, I found myself swept up in my emotions. I wish I'd counted how many people had asked me for my picture, how many posed with me, how many compliments I accepted with as much grace as I could manage, how many people genuinely smiled at me.
(we will ignore the people who called me "Flash" because of the red outfit with yellow lightning bolt on the chest as well as the ones who called me "Captain Marvel" or "SHAZAM!" Close enough, I say, and why rain on their parades?)
When we take the stage, or write a story in whatever format or genre, we are not just feeding our our creative urges. We might see ourselves as singing in the dark of night, hoping someone will hear us and find our talents pleasing.
But know that somewhere, there is someone who is waiting for us to become another character or to create something that might put an aspect of everyday life into sharper focus. Perhaps someone waits for us to simply distract them from the pain of real life, or to rekindle an emotion thought lost, or even simply to let someone know they are not alone.
We are not only creating for ourselves. We are also creating for someone else, even if we don't know -- and may never learn -- who they are. But when they find you, it's worth all the effort and then some. So don't give up ... someone is waiting for you to finish what you do.
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Have a comment? Feel free to leave some below or drop me a line at bkmorris56@gmail.com. And as Stan the Man -- and I ain't talkin' baseball -- used to say, "Hang loose, True Believers." www.freelancewords.com is almost ready to be launched.
So feel free to discuss below.
