RED CARPET, RED EYE, THIRD EYE, PHANTOM HEART, FULL HEART, AND LETTING GO.
I just had the best day…actually the best FEW days…ACTUALLY, maybe the VERY best week of my life.
No hyperbole.
The week I just had in LA led me on a merry journey through so many dynamic and different views I feel like I need at least the same amount of time to unpack it.
(Turns out, I did)
Let me start by saying this…I love LA.
Like Randy-Neuman-song LOVE LA. (Google it)
I love visiting, I love driving the valley, walking the canyon, climbing the hills, even SOMETIMES sitting on the clogged highways…because I like the taking in of the surrounding hills while I wait.
SOMETIMES.
Every time I leave LA, I cannot wait to come back.
For most of my over-20 year old life, I fantasized about living in LA but with a partner who had no interest in making this fantasy a reality, I kinda let go of that dream…a release that I would never practice now AND a fact I’m not ashamed of at all…but here I am, a free-wheeling gal in maybe the third or possibly the fourth act of this life…considering my options.
Considering, people.
Also, how fucking grateful am I to be allowed that many acts? Very.
How grateful am I that I’m relishing and embracing ALL new acts? Also very.
On this visit, the day I arrived in LA, when I drove out of the parking lot at LAX in my rental Jeep, I’d input the address to my pal’s place into my driving app, and when the spinny-wheel of calculation came to a stop, I saw that it was 18 miles to my destination AND 75 minutes till I would get there…AND I KNEW I was in LA…and I was not too mad at it.
~LA.
A place where ALL conversations include directions as to how you arrived at your present destination and where the depth of ALL relationships can be counted in mileage~
I still fucking love it.
The week started with me dragging my bags and myself to my dear long-time pal Cara’s cute pad, which sits pretty much right underneath the Hollywood sign…a pad that has the most gorgeous California courtyard around, as far as I am concerned.
The next day, after I slept off some jet lag, Cara and I dressed up, got into the aforementioned Jeep and embarked on a crazy, almost girl-fight-between-two-theatre-school-mates inducing road tour of the Hollywood Hills to a find a restaurant called PACE, that’s attached to the famous Laurel Canyon General store, where we celebrated Cara’s birthday with a dinner that was capped with a dessert we had to order in advance…IN ADVANCE, PEOPLE!!
NOW I’ve never done that before. It screamed FANCY.
And we laughed…a lot.
Proof:
The next day, I drove across town the 4km/12hrs to the Century City NORDSTROM where I was successfully and joyously styled by one Jaycee Queen, who took up the slack after I was ghosted by not one but TWO stylists when they were sent my sizes.
Coincidence? No.
It was not a shock to be ghosted due to my sizes…but it was still weary-making.
Jaycee had less than two days notice, and still pulled it out and off.
At one point, after I’d tried on a number of misses, I sat a bit hopelessly in the dressing room with all my demons telling me this was NOT going to work out, that I would HAVE to wear track pants to the premiere.
Silently, and depressingly surrounded by the high-priced leavings of our fitting, so far, I started to stew.
Carrie’s wedding/death scene Manola Blaniks….
….Beyoncés Versace platforms….
……AND random fancy dresses, stylish pantsuits and glittering clutches.
……A
Jaycee ran straight into the room and directly into my mood while holding the suit I would end up wearing, and when he clocked the room, he promptly hung the suit up and began to wave his arms around his head, proclaiming, “NO, No ma’am. We CANNOT have that energy in here. It will ruin everything.” And he was right, I let it go…and we soldiered on…and we found the outfit. Thank fuck. I let it go.
A tailor named Renee came in, did some measurements and the suit was whisked off to be altered for the big day. THANK YOU NORDSTROMS!!!!
With my outfit GRATEFULLY figured and now free to wander, the NEXT next day I drove to the desert, joyously braless (LA does that to me and my boobs…FREEDOMMMM) with my pal Jeremy and we had LITERALLY the perfect 24 hours that included antiquing, museum attending, big hat searching, people watching, sunset in Joshua Tree worshipping, ALL capped off by DRIVE-THRU PANDA EXPRESS.
DRIVE-THRU!!!
I mean…GOD BLESS AMERICA.
It was just magic.
Magic.
Have I mentioned I love LA?
California too?
Yes, I know about the fires, the earthquakes, the water shortage and some other nonsense…but I still love it.
And love is dangerous, people.
The morning we left Yucca Valley/Joshua Tree to drive back to LA for the premiere, after our one-of-a-kind gorgeous day, we were speeding along the desert highway past Palm Springs and as many casinos as anyone could ever require, talking about what a perfect day we’d just had and then…
BOOM.
BOOMEDY BOOM BOOM.
We blew a tire.
My RENTAL car was guided to the side of the road and then we called all the people to find someone to get us to a place where we could get a new tire…on a SUNDAY.
In the desert.
FUCK.
My stomach clenched.
My third eye opened.
My phantom heart beat began.
“Well, Sharron, this the price you pay for enjoyment”, is what all the demons said to me.
I know a blown tire may not seem like a very big price to many, and indeed it isn’t really that big a deal in retrospect…no one was hurt…but it was the metaphorical gesture of the finger the universe seemed to be giving me, you see?
The Perceived Message From The Universe:
Enjoy your life, AND pay a price, Matthews.
This weekend is a very big deal, but keep your eyes open for payment.
Fuck.
What a shitty program to live. One I work diligently EVERY goddamned day to disprove.
You know… I know DEEP IN MY SOUL that a day will come when absolutely NO part of a brilliantly joyous life experience will be observed by a salty third eye, or a bruised second heart.
For clarity, my phantom second heart and third eye work solely in relation to any and all worms of past traumas wetly nesting deep inside me, slowly slithering around my psyche, whispering to me NOT to get TOO excited about anything…because…well, just because…which, I think you might agree, is more ominous that an ACTUAL because that is attached to anything.
Oh, self awareness is challenging. Yes, indeed it is.
ALL THAT being said, because of all the work that I’ve done and all the patience that I continue to practice, that judgemental third eye and that still bruised second heart (my second heart is a spirit heart that phantomly beats beside my strongly and repeatedly sewed up REAL HEART) was an extremely SMALL part of what was probably one of the purest, most worry-free and exhilarating weeks of my 53 year old life…but, oddly AND happily AND sadly that minuscule phantom heart and that tiny-teeny third eye’s view of my life is what made me open this IPAD up on in my Premium Economy seat on Air Canada’s early morning flight from LA to TO ( I decided to treat myself to just a bit more seat space on the way home from LA, sue me) to write this.
Life, right?
Yesterday, I woke up in my WEHO Air B and B on PREMIERE DAY of FIVE DAYS AT MEMORIAL, the very reason for my trip to LA, turning over in my literal California King, into the gale of the blasting AC unit, telling myself…
ME TO ME: TODAY, BE MINDFUL, KNOW YOU DESERVE GOOD THINGS, REMIND YOURSELF THAT YOUR BEING HERE WAS NOT A MISTAKE, BREATHE, AND BE IN IT ALL…
…then I put on the clean end-of-the-road clothing left inside my carry-on suitcase and ran around LA in my rented Jeep Compass (with the new tire obtained at Pep Boys in CHAMPAGNE CALIFORNIA as quickly as possible by way of a $20 slipped to the clerk) looking for SPECIFIC CIRCUMFERENCED silver hoop earrings, of which I ended up buying three different sized pairs, much like Goldielocks and her beds and Samantha and her heads.
If you know…you know. : ) #goldie**cks
This week I got to walk my very first red carpet in Los Angeles…something I’ve dreamt about since I was old enough to know it was a thing to BE dreamt of…and last night, in the sweltering heat of a climate-challenged world, with people yelling my name and camera’s flashing, I am not embarrassed to say that it was EVERY SINGLE THING that I wanted it to be.
The cold pack down the back of my pants helped with the joy.
Also, the many folded paper towels hidden in my pal Jeremy’s pockets ALSO helped.
Also, Also, the three people who attended with me, the aforementioned Cara (who I went to theatre school with back in 1892), Ross (who back two years ago, was the person who famously proclaimed “THE HANKS HAVE COVID!!” From beside a pool in Palm Springs, causing us all to scramble home) and the aforementioned Jeremy, really made the night perfect.
It was 86 degrees on that red carpet…and 150 degrees in my REAL HEART.
I felt on fire…in the good way.
Those things, and those people who came with me made the third eye and phantom heart mostly nap till the very end of the night when I found myself alone in the oversized ESCALADE that was given to me for the whole evening, not unlike Cinderella’s carriage…driven not by mice, but by a lovely woman named Lori who cried out “STOP” every time I tried to get out of the 40 foot high door on my own.
You know what?
Great swaths of my life have been spent dreaming and planning to make those dreams real, and then when they happen?…that third eye and that phantom heart that was broken way before my ex-husband left my life, takes notice of my dreams and plans, whispering “That will never happen”…so when I dig in anyhow, and it finally does happen?
I’m always a bit shocked.
True story.
I am a bit shocked and gratified…two things at once, right?
This is the work.
I’m working VERY hard to be not shocked…but it’s a process, people.
So, when I felt that pang of sweet melancholy while sitting alone in the back of that Escalade at the end of the night after I dropped my pals off, Alexander McQueen shoes set aside in favour of the Birkenstocks I’d stowed in the car earlier, Lori racing us down Sunset Boulevard towards a burger joint, I breathed it in.
This is the joyous, bittersweet win of a moment.
This is what it is.
This is the moment.
Breathe it, Matthews.
And?
I got on a BEST DRESSED LIST PEOPLE.
Yay, Nordstrom’s, Jaycee Queen and Me.
WHAT. A. THING.
I truly had the Hollywood night of my life, then went to FATBURGER with Lori my driver, drove back to my Air B and B, ate the burger and fries in my underwear while bathing in the air conditioning, eventually went to bed, waking up with the sun to go home and get ready to film the teaser to film HELLO CHARLIE.
I already told you it was the best week of my life. : )
This is where I stopped writing on the plane home, put on my noise canceling earphones, closed my eyes, and ran my LA week in my head on repeat.
Three days later, after going into the studio to record a song I’d written with Ben Elliot, many meetings and costume figuring, I spent an entire day shooting the teaser/proof of concept for the digital show I created with the very talented Kat Sandler, called HELLO CHARLIE.
Talented actor friends galore came to help realize this project, Dimytry CHepovetsky, Karen LeBlanc, Sadie Snow LaFlamme, Raoul Bhaneja, Luke Humphrey, and new friend Brenda Robbins.
I was giddy the whole day.
And at the end of the day, after being on cloud nine for hours while keeping myself on the steady to stay on time, we completed filming the entire teaser…which was NO easy feat and was largely thanks to Liz Farrer and Dillon Taylor.
When I got in the car to go home, I was just…I was nearly swollen with thankfulness AND a feeling of accomplishment that comes with seeing something to it’s completion…well, this step anyhow.
I made it.
I made it all the way through my week in LA with joy, I got back and mindfully and confidently accomplished a huge task that was a project of my own initial devising, I did it.
I fucking did it.
And then I felt it deep inside my chest, the bittersweetness…the ping of melancholy rose up within me. And because I was very tired, it began to overwhelm me.
TWO THINGS ARE TRUE AT ONCE. I cannot say this enough.
Hours later in my apartment, with my JO at her friend’s house for the shoot day, I sat on my couch alone, watching the sky fill with a sunset that is so singular to August in Toronto, all reds, oranges, and yellows, and felt…I felt the weight of my phantom heart and the inquisitiveness of my third heart mine my tired feelings.
So much joy and accomplishment, so much the best week of my life…for reals…and the phantom heart and third eye reminded me that I was so by myself at the end of it.
Payment.
BLOOP.
There is a part of me that…not all the time but when it happens it’s a physical event…that aches to be enfolded by a body that is safe and strong and just fucking relax for a moment, or for hours.
Like…just give in…deeply let go.
And somewhere inside me I believe that when I’m laying there, surrounded by a warmth that is not my own, I will then whisper all the things that are deep inside me that I dream, worry and fantasize about…the things you cannot tell anyone but a person who makes you feel safe enough to physically let go.
AND not in a sexual way, sex is easy, but in an intimate way.
Intimacy is hard and, controversial statement ahead, I don’t think I’ve experienced that brand TRUE intimacy yet. Not the deepest kind.
I already said it…but Life, right?
Why do I believe that this deep feeling of release, of enjoyment, of intimacy can only be accomplished with another human?
I believe it’s a very singular thing that release, that relax, that letting go…and I seem to believe it’s hard to capture on your own…but I am fucking going to try.
I really am.
Because you know what? I would not trade any pale imitation of realizing that want to it’s fullest for the wonderful life I have…that I am building…but some days..the hard days…the tired days…the happiest of days…the most sweet of days…I can feel my body yearning to settle itself…my strong back that protects my REAL beating heart…into another trusted form…and just let the fuck go.
And you know where that wonderfully exhausting week led me to? A bit of an unexpected but not surprising low…that then led me down a bit of a shitty lane…which dumped me off whole new place…a place that was NOT crappy…a place in which I want to stop searching for that solace outside of myself.
I took in the shortness of life during that low and realized I have far too much to do, quite frankly…to learn, to see, to hear, to write, to create…to spend any of my precious time looking, swiping, waiting for someone to fill that bittersweetness.
I now believe that singular bittersweetness might be a sign of a job well done, of a level completed, quite frankly.
If someone does show up…I further realized it will probably be someone who has their own bittersweetness nestled inside a very full, satisfying and interesting life.
Hmm.
Because the actual universe is a synchronistic place, I just finished reading Harvey Fierstein’s latest memoir and he wrapped up the state of his love life by saying this:
“As for marriage, I seem to be happier alone than I ever was partnered. I’m so much more myself. As for sex-I’ve found a balance that’s right for me. My desire for physical contact has not waned, but satisfying it seems best when kept casual, nonromantic, and in most cases entre nous…. Instead, I dabble in dalliance.”
I dabble in dalliance. I kinda love that. God, I hope I don’t delete this later. : )
BUT THE REAL GOAL IS THIS:
I, SHARRON MATTHEWS, AM GOING TO LEARN TO ENJOY MY HAPPINESS WITHOUT ANTICIPATING A LOSS OR PUNISHMENT.
By the way, when the tire blew on the Jeep in the Palm Desert, and Jeremy and I were calling all the people to get them to come for us, Jeremy’s outlook was so goddamned positive that I allowed myself roll into his flow.
He kept insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, when in the past something like this happening in my life…with the phantom heart and third eye activated…would have been a VERY big deal…but I managed to let it go. I just….let go. I let go into myself NEAR my friend.
Huh.
And as we sat beside the Pep Boy’s (where the car was getting a new tire in record $20 time) eating very scrumptious breakfast sandwiches in McDonald’s, Jeremy kept saying, “See? Would we ever have allowed ourselves these delicious breakfast sandwiches after a night filled with DRIVE-THRU PANDA EXPRESS!?!? I think not. Cheers to blown tires, Girl.”
Cheers to blow tires, indeed.
Oh, I love LA. I love it.
The Skies Over The Grand Canyon AND Toronto
August 9th to August 30th, 2022 – S.M.
You know that old vacation cliche? It’s the one where you start the holiday so happy to be there and then, after the first week you say “oh God I was so tense last week”. Only to find you say the exact same thing a week later because NOW you finally feel relaxed. And if you’re lucky and on a long vacation, you say it again another week later, and so on …
You’ve written so brilliantly about how “letting go” isn’t a singular act. It’s a long process. . Sometimes backing up and trying again. You have articulated the challenge of this process for the world.
That dreamed-about “letting go while in the safe embrace of someone ultra trustworthy” is so alluring. And it is glorious…not just a cozy version of “here, hold my purse”. But maybe letting go eventually goes past the need for someone to let go with? Or beside. In the presence of. Is that just sad? Profound? Two things at once?
Hmm. Now I’m thinking about OUR TOWN and all that letting go stuff in Act 3. Whew.
Sharron I absolutely live for the things you make me think about!! Love you
Oh! And unabashedly grabbing hold of opportunity and adventure while also letting go? Yes. Two things true at the same time!
Yes!
Oh my god, I love you. Let’s do dinner…for reals.
Sharron, thank you for taking us along on these adventures of yours. Whether it’s a hike in the wilderness or your fancy red carpet walk, we’re there, and your absolute honesty about the highs and the lows makes for an addictive read. I am so, so glad you got that red carpet walk-your joy made me smile. Have a great week.
thanks RONA!!!
You deserve every fucking moment of this joy. And I LOVE the Joshua Tree pic. Damn. Beautiful. You are beautiful. And I feel every single feel about LA, Cali and going for dreams. As well as the little voice that creeps. xxx
Keep shining, friend. I am so very happy for you. We still need to do our Santa Barbara wine tasting one day…..
Thanks MAMA!