Entry tags:
Obsession!
I am obsessed with Orson Welles.
This is not news to any of you, I suspect, since I talk of little else lately except for the odd foray into Peter Pan outfits. Nor do I think it will soon pass, and you will be inundated with more reviews as I attempt to watch his entire body of work. But I don't bring him up to talk about him in particular, today, but about obsession.
See, it's been ages--it feels like years--since anything's hit me this hard. When I was a teenager, and through college, certain things would grab hold of me and not let go. Sherlock Holmes, The Phantom of the Opera, T.E. Lawrence, The X-Files, all of them had their day(s) and all of them were certain to elevate my heart rate on a regular basis. Under these conditions I was most likely insufferable, but I also wrote a lot. Obsession, for me, is akin to that gut-level yearning that also spurred my writing in previous years, the stories I just had to get out and would work on incessantly until they were done, thinking of little else. They were never that long, and compared to some of you my output, even at its highest, was much less. These stories were not necessarily related to my current obsession (unless it was Phantom), but the feeling was similar.
That's part of the reason that my constant rumination on Orson makes me happy--I'd missed that feeling. I've missed being absorbed by something, probably because it's one of the few situations in which I feel at all passionate. I think I'm fairly dynamic in real life. I'm not a stoic. But that's just personality, and here I'm talking about the sort of thing that dominates my thoughts and proves to me that I'm still reachable.
This is most likely a little bit unhealthy. After all, there are "better" things to be passionate about--real world situations, real people, relationships. And this sort of passion is inward-directed, reachable only by me and then constantly spilling forth whether my companion wants to hear it or not. In this instance, I am lucky in that Mr. Daroga seems to feel the same and
tkp at least finds him adorable and seems to be amused by the fact of my obsession in itself. (No, he's not my type at all, physically; but as I told her last night only half-joking, I feel this is good for me and represents, er, an expansion of my taste.) But in general, unless you are part of a cult or spend a tremendous amount of time online to the exclusion of your everyday activities, fanatical obsession is a solitary thing. Even when it's shared, the peculiar overflow of excitement is difficult to confer on another, and more often than not serves more as a feedback loop for one's own obsession.
But for whatever reason, and I believe I've mentioned this before, I was nostalgic for those days of all-consuming interest. I'd thought it lost in the face of "real life": marriage, pet parenting, full-time employment and the like. I just didn't have the time or energy to obsess. I was doing more important things. Now I feel that way again, and I want to prolong it and draw it out and revel in it. Why? Is it like the person who keeps starting and leaving relationships, so they can get that new love high over and over? The objects of my obsession always stay close, even when the fire dies down. I tried to jump-start my Phantom thing again, by coming back online and getting involved. I have succeeded primarily in addiction to a cracktastic role-play forum--perhaps that's another obsession, or perhaps it just sparked this one. Perhaps it was quitting anti-depressants that did it.
Whatever the reason, what I hope is that this marks a return to some of my other pursuits--namely, obsessive writing. Back then, my stories were not brilliant, but at least I was telling them. And the compulsion to tell them overcame any laziness or fear of failure or whatever else is stopping me now. I'm not sure I should be so delighted by my own insular fannishness, but I am.
What about you? Do you have an obsessive personality? Did you once and, like me, leave it with some part of your life as you moved on? Or are you astonished that I'm even remarking upon it because it's just part of life? What have you been obsessed with? And that strange feeling--do you like it? Or is it a barrier between you and "real" life?
And isn't Orson amazing?
This is not news to any of you, I suspect, since I talk of little else lately except for the odd foray into Peter Pan outfits. Nor do I think it will soon pass, and you will be inundated with more reviews as I attempt to watch his entire body of work. But I don't bring him up to talk about him in particular, today, but about obsession.
See, it's been ages--it feels like years--since anything's hit me this hard. When I was a teenager, and through college, certain things would grab hold of me and not let go. Sherlock Holmes, The Phantom of the Opera, T.E. Lawrence, The X-Files, all of them had their day(s) and all of them were certain to elevate my heart rate on a regular basis. Under these conditions I was most likely insufferable, but I also wrote a lot. Obsession, for me, is akin to that gut-level yearning that also spurred my writing in previous years, the stories I just had to get out and would work on incessantly until they were done, thinking of little else. They were never that long, and compared to some of you my output, even at its highest, was much less. These stories were not necessarily related to my current obsession (unless it was Phantom), but the feeling was similar.
That's part of the reason that my constant rumination on Orson makes me happy--I'd missed that feeling. I've missed being absorbed by something, probably because it's one of the few situations in which I feel at all passionate. I think I'm fairly dynamic in real life. I'm not a stoic. But that's just personality, and here I'm talking about the sort of thing that dominates my thoughts and proves to me that I'm still reachable.
This is most likely a little bit unhealthy. After all, there are "better" things to be passionate about--real world situations, real people, relationships. And this sort of passion is inward-directed, reachable only by me and then constantly spilling forth whether my companion wants to hear it or not. In this instance, I am lucky in that Mr. Daroga seems to feel the same and
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But for whatever reason, and I believe I've mentioned this before, I was nostalgic for those days of all-consuming interest. I'd thought it lost in the face of "real life": marriage, pet parenting, full-time employment and the like. I just didn't have the time or energy to obsess. I was doing more important things. Now I feel that way again, and I want to prolong it and draw it out and revel in it. Why? Is it like the person who keeps starting and leaving relationships, so they can get that new love high over and over? The objects of my obsession always stay close, even when the fire dies down. I tried to jump-start my Phantom thing again, by coming back online and getting involved. I have succeeded primarily in addiction to a cracktastic role-play forum--perhaps that's another obsession, or perhaps it just sparked this one. Perhaps it was quitting anti-depressants that did it.
Whatever the reason, what I hope is that this marks a return to some of my other pursuits--namely, obsessive writing. Back then, my stories were not brilliant, but at least I was telling them. And the compulsion to tell them overcame any laziness or fear of failure or whatever else is stopping me now. I'm not sure I should be so delighted by my own insular fannishness, but I am.
What about you? Do you have an obsessive personality? Did you once and, like me, leave it with some part of your life as you moved on? Or are you astonished that I'm even remarking upon it because it's just part of life? What have you been obsessed with? And that strange feeling--do you like it? Or is it a barrier between you and "real" life?
And isn't Orson amazing?
no subject
To answer your questions, I've always been one to find things and love the crap out of them almost to the point of obsession. I guess you could call it an obsessive personality. True I do think about them all the time, and draw my loves, but it's never negatively effected my life. I haven't avoided real life things in favor of fake ones, it can be a reminder of what i don't have in life, or what I'll never be, but it keeps me going and that has to be enough.
My hugest of course has been Phantom. I have a tattoo and have been a fan for 15 f'in years. Not as long as some, but it's half my life. I mean, I have liked x-men longer, but it's not an obsession. Sure my Phantom love has been on the back burner for a while, but he'll never leave my heart ever. I just don't function like that. Then there are my boys. Marc and Vincent. Two extremely interesting, versatile, quirky and insanely talented actors. Vincent is at the forefront because he just has more characters I deeply love, namely, Bobby. I love how they have inspired my art and made me want to continue working hard to achieve things. I think this sort of elated feeling I get from them, is no different then religion. I just realize that my obsessions have no power over me. But yes, I just see Vincent and smile.
Now for Orson, god there's another one who blindsided me. Another key aspect of my obsessions is they lead me to other wonderful things. Vincent has shown me a bunch of neat movies, a new author and Orson. Thanks Vincent. Between the films, the books and the man himself, my life has already been enriched in such a small time. He's been an exciting rewarding addition to my love list.
no subject
I've always been one to find things and love the crap out of them almost to the point of obsession. I guess you could call it an obsessive personality.
This has, typically, been true for me, too. What surprised me was 1) sort of "losing it" for a few years and 2) it coming back again.
My hugest of course has been Phantom.
I think Phantom will always been my first love. It wasn't the "first," but it's attained a status in what I guess you could call my personal mythos that I suspect will make it a permanent part of my life. It's been 15 years for me, too, half my life as well, and my relationship to the story has changed. I'm at a point now where the characters speak to me on different levels, but I'm capable of enjoying all the versions for some facet. I used to be much more phangirly, my love "exclusive" and naturally I was the only right interpreter. But now, I'm just as much in love with the variety of takes on the story and the very fact of its mutability. And every Phantom has something to show me.
I think I also, at times, hold up "idols" for myself when I want someone to look up to and say, "I will achieve."
D'you like my Rochester icon?
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D'you like my Rochester icon?
I very very do.
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no subject