Thought About James Dean

I saw twice a documentary about James Dean on Ovation channel lately. I did not know that besdies racing car, being dead young, painfully handsome, he also drew, sculpted, played drum, made animatin films and wrote journals.

I would have liked to read his blog if he lives now. He would have one.

He was tense and torn, at least his screen image was and he seemed to be like that in real ife. He loved bull fighting. I don't know these about him before. I like men who looks forever having an underlying sadness, broken and nameless, which can not be fixed, yet handsome and wearing glasses sometimes, black rimmed ones. They had to be funny as well.

I liked James Dean also because I alway think my father was a Chinese version of him when he was young, although he was definitley not as cool and sad looking, much worsely dressed. I think it was the eyebrow. And he laughs too much even at time of most difficulty to qualify for an Asian double of a drama star.

Yet I am a drama queen, dark and twisted , and had a thing for equaly dark, twisted, artistic man.

Today I was sitting on a conference call for 2 hours, in my office, for a brief moment, I decided this life at this work is unbearable, meaningless and trival. I almost walked out.

Almost. But I stayed and worked into late hours. I realized that I had been molded into a life. I had payed dear prices for things that may never come. Life happend when I was eager waiting and was doing things that I don't enjoy.

We are all trapped one way or another. Options are not what we always can have, we make ourselves believe that. Maybe that is an excuse for not trying things new, for not breaking the routine and starting to live without a goal or destination, start living.

Did James Dean chose to be immortal by dying young and fast, 50 yeras ago?

At least I had an option to write these words in my little cozy world late at night, to not be as devoted, and responsible , and panic about tomorrow's deliverable as I had always been.