A few weeks ago, while I was doing laundry and Liz and I were both using the wireless at Mark's, we had a conversation -or debate- that (at least) changed me. "You can't just run away from your problems, Warner. Look at it, they are just following you here. You had problems back in Michigan,and you have problems here - so what's the difference." For a little background, Liz was my roommate, but before that, we were just two college kids in love with a dream. A tough eldest only girl of 4 whose stricking similarities to one of my best friends, Lauren, made me prematurely think of us as friends. I assumed she would gradually come to understand my humor and personality like Rupper, my other best friend, and Lauren have. I thought I could joke with her the way I joked with them - that was not the case. Which leads to another point.
Liz was the first person to point out how spacey I would get - literally I zone out and stare blankly at walls while my mind wonders through the pocket-universe to which I am the axis. When in the company of others it takes me a moment to register when people are talking to me, resulting in me missing the beginning of sentences and having to try and catch up or ask the person to repeat. This drove her crazy, "It's just rude. It's like you don't even care." And on multiple occasions, "you're so selfish, Warner. I have never met someone who spaces out that often, that long."
At first I thought it was just her, she just dosen't get me. But as I thought about it more, I had a revelation: maybe it is me....
But why did this feel like it was so foreign? Why didn't anyone else ever bring this to my attention? Again, I thought back to my besties, Rupper and Lauren. Had they come to similar conclusions and just learned to love me regardless? Had spending so much time with them numbed them to my selfishness? Was that just warner?!.
I will not deny the overwhelming support and trust Liz offered me - which I subsequently destroyed. She believed in me and continued to help me. She hooked me up with not one, but two other great photographers; arguably, the tear from her direction in the shei mag is what started getting me editorial work here in michigan, it was her connection that got us the apartment on the upper west side.
And certainly not least, there's Mark. When I desperately wanted out of Michigan and had no money and no place to go, Mark opened his door and let me in. Food and shelter provided in the uber-desirable Greenwich Village neighborhood, I spent my first few weeks just floating and what I thought was adjusting to my new life. I vocalized my appreciation on a regular basis, but didn't demonstrate in action. Looking back, as it was brought to my attention, it was like summer vacation at Camp Cornelia. I spent most of my time in the apartment enjoying air-conditioning and a constantly stocked fridge from weekly Fresh Direct™ deliveries, while I waited for work. Yeah, I went out and got a job - but everyone else trying to make it in the industry had 3 or 4. Sure I was meeting with agents and making great connections - but I wasn't taking full advantage and working my hardest. I am accustomed to working hard, to busting my ass to get what I want. But, sub-consciously I was relaxing from that. I was unwittingly resting on my laurels, disguising it and fooling myself into thinking and believing I was "adjusting".
So, that's the story behind my three months in the big apple - behind the photoshoots and the glamous celebrity bejeweled parties, the expensive dinners and more frequent expensive lunches, the bar hopping, the friend visiting, I really didn't work as hard as I should or could have. I am not the only star in existence. The gravitational force of my supernova is not just isolated to my universe, but ripple throughout the galaxy affecting those other surrounding universes. I am not the only one left with brusies in the wake of Camp Cornelia. For three months, a war of wills was waged between the wisdom of my mother and the unchecked rage and anger of myself. Liz and Mark, like the Achaians and Trojans, have to deal with the ramifications of my deflected spear and the debris from my mother's bolder while I retreat to Mount Olympus.
Now, back in Michigan, I will complete my degree as I should have and head back to New York after graduation. I can't just pack one life in boxes and throw it in a room for storage and try and start another. I told people before how I had a problem with completetion - reading books, my drawings, my comics and stories, and it was extending into college and my relationship with my family. This year isn't going to be easy, I love New York and that is where I need to be - but I have to finish business here in Michigan before I can successfully move on. Besides that, I still have growing to do. I am not as independent as I thought, and not nearly as much as I need to be in live in New York. I was not close - not in the vicinity - of being financially stable to support myself in the city. I came back to Michigan with a new outlook on life, and what my priorities are. I am not mature enough to step out of my mom's support, I still missed some aspects of college, and I missed my friends, too much. Not only that, even in this small market, there are still resources in modeling I haven't explored - there is still more to my craft I need to perfect.
I don't regret my choice to New York and "drop out" of school. Nor do I see my time in New York as a failure. It was an unparalleled experience in Life. It was a dose of THE REAL WORLD. If you had the choice, step out on your own to prove a point, run into debt with no clear way out, destroy credit that took close to a decade to establish or to finish college with no debt, a trust, and a diploma - which would you choose?
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