The Tacoma SALT mixer was a large period of growth and realization for me. To think that I was able to get through a Networking event mostly unscathed shows the potential growth that can happen over years. The Day Started off Pretty Normal 11:30 Editing Short Form Content There’s a collection of unpublished short-form content […]
The Tacoma SALT mixer was a large period of growth and realization for me. To think that I was able to get through a Networking event mostly unscathed shows the potential growth that can happen over years.
The Day Started off Pretty Normal
11:30 Editing Short Form Content
There’s a collection of unpublished short-form content that I’ve been sitting on. Finding the motivation and drive to get started is the hardest part. Follow-through is the problem again, isn’t it? I get deeply focused if I manage to start an edit. When I mess up camera settings, have bad framing, or have unstable footage, I kick myself. Not having enough media going into an edit is a bigger problem. The end product never lives up to the perfect version in my head, so why bother?
I get anxiety if I’m not creating something. I feel guilty when a week goes by, and I haven’t produced a song, video, drawing, or blog post. Must I be a fraud after all? If I have enough energy, I can will myself to start editing. Most of this footage came from my iPhone because I lost my DJI Osmo Pocket 3. I’m not a big fan of smartphone edits, but both of the following videos were edited on an app called CapCut. I’d rather fully dive into Resolve or Adobe software. However, properly learning those software platforms isn’t worth the time spent yet.
I’m not sure whether to prioritize the speed of CapCut or the quality, skill gain, and UI of the other suites.
I produced the following videos during my front desk sessions.
It looks very amateurish to me. With the limited time I have, it’s the best I can do. I’m so far outside of my comfort zone, but I keep going. I figure things out along the way. What am I doing? I have no clue, just trying to scrape by and figure it out as I go. My friends and family have the opposite impression. They figure everything was placed intentionally, that I have an idea of a full story and narrative in my head. My work process is more of a hodgepodge of a bunch of elements that don’t belong.
I used to think that what I was doing was easy, but as I’ve seen organizations and past co-workers fail to replicate my shots, edits, storytelling, or entertainment value, I started to see my potential for even more. I’ve had like “your old company is still using your media”, “their new video guy is yikes😬”, “did you see they tried to make a video in your style”. It seems there are a lot of people who think what I can do is easy. . . Until they try it themselves. While it’s not roofing in July, working on an oil rig, or deep-sea crab fishing, it’s difficult in other ways.
Nail Appointment for a Polished Presentation
After work, I rushed to my favorite nail studio, XO Nail Salon. Nice-looking nails are a small guilty pleasure in life. The broken nail on my index finger had me looking like PepeSad. If Eczema wasn’t bad enough, it makes nails brittle in a variety of ways. The included stress scratching didn’t help, but It’s so itchy I can’t help it sometimes. Life’s too short to worry about what people think.
Feminine Boy
I’ve always been a little bit of a soft guy. When I was growing up, soft and sensitive meant that you were either bullied or isolated. I’ve never really cared about fitting in a box either. A Social misfit since freshman year of High School, I shouldn’t care less about what “guys are supposed to do”. I’ve happily settled into myself as a FeminineBoy, even though I still get a little nervous about breaking the mold. FeminineMale is more accurate because I’m almost past my expiration date.
It’s socially acceptable to dress, groom, and present myself in a more feminine way while still liking guy things, right? “Football, Cars, Videogames, and Sci-Fi” aren’t exactly feminine coded, but it’s not like you change your character skin and now you’re a different character.
I used to think going to a Nail Salon was self-indulgent and vain. It’s also like trimming grass because nails only last a few of weeks before you have to do it all over again. Being pampered for an hour means you can’t get any work done, and productivity is how we define our worth in 2026.
The Value of Self-care
Most men forget to take care of themselves. The amount of single guys that need to shave their nose hairs, trim their beards, or even shower consistently is embarrassing. . . Like come on guys. I can never forget the smell of that summer Comiket Train. . . Shudders*.
A lot of men give the excuse of time or exhausting jobs. I couldn’t picture a mechanic, plumber, HVAC, electrician, Oil Rig, or Construction guy sitting there at a nail salon. But Jesus, are they the ones that need it the most? Even if their nails got chipped, self-care isn’t really male-coded.
Year of the Chud: Why Men Avoid Nail Salons
To your average male, Nail Salons look like a waste of time and money. But making your nails look good is just one aspect of the salon experience. The space creates a meditative, comfortable, and expressive third space. The nail artists act as friends, business contacts, therapists, accountants, and matchmakers. People share more with estheticians than their close family members. Over countless trips, I’d compare a nail salon to an aesthetic izakaya.
Instead of getting drunk off alcohol, it’s drinking the same Kool-Aid as Narcissus. Self-confidence in one’s appearance can relax even the most insecure people. When you let your guard down, it’s possible to connect with new friends, business partners, or someone to chat with for the day. The artists create a calm environment where conversations flow back and forth. So much communication happens in salons that networks will expand through the regulars’ nodes. I guess what I’m trying to say is that nail salons offer that much-needed third space in our society. If you’re born with a peepee, it’s a shame it’s a hidden treasure.
Why Small Family Businesses Become Community Spaces
People usually prefer to do business with someone they know. Large corporations like McDonald’s, Best Buy, or Target offer things no small business can due to their bulk and large corporate structure. But for certain industries, the human connection matters more than anything. If no first-degree connection is available, mutual friends often trump strangers.
What’s the saying??
“It’s who you know sometimes”
XO Nail is managed by a small Vietnamese family. We’ve been family friends for nearly ten years. I’d be hard-pressed to go to another nail salon. They’d have to offer licensed cyberpunk2077, neon glow, French tip licensed nails for me to go anywhere else. At this point, “The person who does our nails” would be an insult. For family friends, using anything but their first names would be strange, especially when my sister goes and eats dinner with her family from time to time.
Apparently, the Nail Salon owner is also getting married to her boyfriend, and we’re invited to that wedding. That would be the first wedding I get invited to as an adult misfit.
What Is a Tacoma SALT Mixer?
Foster’s Creative has an event every year called the Salt Mixer
What is a salt mixer?? I had no idea; I should really research these things more deeply before committing to them. Their community film had made me a lifelong fan. The Ten was a love letter to the City of Tacoma. After living overseas for so long, I held a soft spot in my heart for a film about my hometown.
The film touched my soul. If I wasn’t so awkward at the afterparty, it would have been the perfect night. The cameraman was the only person I had a conversation with. Kevin from Vien Dong greeted me before returning home to prep his restaurant for the next day. As an anti-social, nervous, tired mess, people read my energy and wanted nothing to do with it.
I left the ten with a love for my city, but a disappointment in myself. At least I got a nice photo. As an autistic person, it feels like everyone is a member of a group I didn’t understand; it felt like I was looking at humanity through a telescope. I could see what was going on, but I couldn’t touch what it was like to be human.
Dressing Authentically for the SALT Mixer
I could have folded in on myself at the last event. As a “creative person,” all I’ve managed to do was waste time and hurt people’s eyes and ears. This time I had my head held high and showed up more authentically. My budget-conscious outfit had been pieced together from Nordstrom Rack, Uniqlo, and Amazon. Giulia taught me that you can mentally picture how items you have or want will layer. Once you have a collection of options with a good eye and imagination, you can create varied looks on the fly. Unique and interesting looks are a mix of imagination and experimentation.
Cosplay was one of those vehicles that made me comfortable pushing boundaries. I applied the same principles I learned crafting cosplay looks into a style that was more “socially acceptable”… More… not entirely lol. I’ve stopped shopping for what society expects of me. Three things direct my clothing purchases.
- What I think looks cool/good
- Inspo can come from anywhere
- Gaming
- Alt looks
- Influencers
- Window shopping
- How I Want to Present.
- Softer Aesthetic
- Alternative/Emo Looks
- Athletic
- Harajuku/Korean/Japanese
- Minimalism
- Quiet Luxury
- Dressing for my shape
- 178 CM
- 171 lbs
- Semi Lean
- Bone/Body Frame
- Need to exercise more
- Cost
- Ain’t tryna break the bank and be poor
- Generally Low Cost
- Under $40 per Piece
- Thrift Shopping Anyone
Owning the Style
I started dressing like I wanted to instead of looking like a bland, generic, business-casual, car salesman. If it made me look good, I didn’t care which section the clothes came out of. For the past week or so, I’ve been mixing and matching Harajuku looks with my street looks and my Nikes. I had to stay clean and professional enough for work while expressing my creativity.
I showed up with my own style, hair, nails, confidence, and mingling skills… actually, those last two were missing. Did my bold presentation cause sweat, nerves, jitters, and uh. . . more sweat? Maybe it was my general social anxiety? It felt like I was in freshman English all over again. . . Oh god, what did I get myself into? Not being able to contain my internal fumbling, the check-in lady received a long, nervous rant. I scanned the horizon and saw a lot of business types with suits, businesses, business cards, and important positions. Oh god, it’s a shark tank, and I’m just a minnow.
I need a beer. . . wine. . . or beer and wine.
I was making my way to the bar, but before I could get there, someone complimented my look.
“OMG! I love your look with your hair, nails, and outfit.” The stranger in front of me spouted.
Do they really mean it? Are they just being nice? My toxic mindset spoils most interactions at events like these. The organization she was a part of helped veterans by hosting fundraising 5 K marathons. My knees are already sore thinking about running, but I wanted to help her. I let her know I’d be interested in running and shared a bit about myself.
I was nearing the end of my dialogue tree when I was saved by one of the hosts. Bryson from Foster’s Creative hopped on the mic charismatically, making a small introduction. The main Q&A would start soon. . . . I took the pause in action as an opportunity to grab a beer. . . My poor expanding stomach. Slurping down the frothy elixir, I felt a calm start to wash over me.
Autistic people don’t need to have alcohol to act normal and relax, but it definitely helps. Nursing my beer, I paused to take a deep breath. I almost relaxed before the realization that I didn’t pay my parking shocked me back into panic. Just what I needed when panicked, more adrenaline in my system. Oh god, was I sweaty; I hope my hands are clammy now. My beer was right where I left it . . . Good thing ugly people don’t have to worry about being roofied.
Temporary Charisma Buff
I drank my beer at the table when someone else complimented my outfit; I thought I had to dress like a fantasy character to get this many compliments. With the bit of beer in my system and the positive feeling from some compliments, I chilled out a bit. The beer offered a temporary charisma buff. I made small talk with various parties before someone poked their head in and flagged me down.
I couldn’t quite place her accent. The tale of an eight-year adventure of Japan kept her engaged as we both gushed over our love of travel and foreign cultures. One thing I learned is that often if people ask you about a topic, you rally a similar question about that topic back to them.
So How Did You Find Yourself Here?
Her life was like the adventure novels you read as a child. Instead of waiting for the world to come to her, or waiting until she had things figured out, she left her home when she was young. In her twenties, she took the time to backpack around Europe, where she met a handsome German man. That German man moved to San Francisco. Like something out of a romcom, she followed her heart to the sunny state down south. Her story had a happy ending: marriage and a life in the United States. It was the kind of romantic, daring, bold adventure everyone dreams of. I certainly wish that was the way my adventure worked out in Japan.
Our stories moved like parallel verses in a song. It was also nice to have someone appreciate my self-deprecating dark humor. After one big bout of laughter, she paused and took a deep breath.
A Shared Love of Adventure
“You know I do these small group tours and I’ve been thinking of adding Japan as an excursion. I really loved Nagoya”
My jaw dropped just a little bit. . . For the last two years of my life, I was a tour guide. . . . Is this that synchronicity that everyone keeps talking about??
“I still have some friends there who do tour guiding, and I have a lot of knowledge of the tourism landscape over there.” Nagoya had a soft spot in my heart. I got my JDM car there, my ex lived there, and the Toyota factory was there. I spent a lot of time hiking and at the shinkansen station during my time as a tour leader. Her eyes lit up like she saw a spark in me that I didn’t have.
“Here’s my business card; I have to go soon, so I’m going to give you my phone number. I’m traveling soon but when I get back we should link up.”
She took the time to write her personal phone number on the business card before handing it to me.
Self-Aware Humor Works Sometimes
The empty beer in my hand had signaled that some time had gone by; time for another one*. . . Damn, DJ Khalid. I went with the more refined choice of a red blended wine. Two Black Girls looked over at the mostly white business types. . . Some of the businessmen looked like 80s frat guys reliving their glory days. I wasn’t tempted to walk over there either.
“I like your style,” said the one with short curly hair, still analyzing the finance bros. The air was still a little tense. Jokes cut the tension right.
Reading the air, it was time to ease the tension.
“You know I’m black too, but I’d never say the n-word without a picture of my dad with me.” The joke got to them; the stiff poses folded as they laughed. After they recovered, they leaned with their back to the bar
“No, we can see it. . . I still wouldn’t try your luck in other areas; not everyone is as nice as us”. Trust me, I’m not tryna get shot over a word.
“I never really say it. I remember when two or three black kids in my high school cornered me in the locker room and made me say it.”.
With the tension broken, they started sharing about themselves and their roles in life. They were both important non-profit leaders . . . How did a loser like me end up here? Guess I’m lucky they didn’t make the event invite-only.
It’s a Small World
It was comforting talking to down-to-earth people from Tacoma. Just as I was about to write off the finance portion of mostly white guys in their 40s and 50s. Just as I was thinking I didn’t belong in that circle, I saw a familiar face. An accountant who worked in the Seaboard building was smiling and chatting next to a couple of business types.
Thank God he was surrounded by a diverse group because, without thinking, I walked over there and said
“Hey, I know you!!? What’s up, man?!” The autism in me couldn’t wait for a pause in their conversation. I also failed to recognize that one of the main event organizers was standing in the circle. I really need to do more research before these things.
Not knowing how influential she was might have been a good thing. Networking often feels like LinkedIn IRL with wine and beer. It seems like everyone thinks it’s necessary to present a version of themselves so polished they lose their natural texture. Even worse is being a yes man or kiss ass. Placing people on a pedestal never goes well for either party.
Even I Know That’s Bad
Before “networking” became a commercialized term, mixing spaces offered venues to authentically connect. An autistic trait which acts as a double-sided sword is our ability to be blunt, straightforward, and ignore social convention. When this cluelessness gets mistaken for confidence, antics ensue. As socially lost as I was half the time, even I knew the lady there who was just handing out flyers with no introduction, reciprocity, or attempt to have a conversation. . . Was poor form. At least have a smile on your face like the Japanese workers handing out tissue advertisements. . . The lady looked more dead than my Tinder inbox.
“Hey there,” Nick said in a dismissive tone. I had just busted in a drunken purple, softly dressed Kool-Aid man; I couldn’t expect a warm reception. He peered over from the corner of his eye to see who just ignored the group’s harmonic balance. He started to look back at Katie before double-taking and peering at me. His eyes grew wider as the dots connected. He realized who it was. .”Oh my god, you’re from the Seaboard building.”
Glowing Introduction
He replaced the cold tone with a genuine warm gesture and smile, welcoming me into the circle. What followed was a glowing introduction. My pride swelled a little bit when he spoke, “Now Marco is an excellent space maker(I didn’t even know that was a term). Excellent personality, warm smile, and is genuinely kind. . . We’ve exchanged a couple coffees and some conversations from time to time.”
“You’re too kind!” chuckled out of embarrassment. “It was always nice to see you at the building, Nick. OMG, you’re looking real snazzy today!” Nick had traded in his solid blue blazer and khakis for a more bold patterned black and white blazer, patterned tie, and cream off-white colored pants.
“Well, and Inuit it was more of a uniform; here I can style it up.” After my introduction, others began to introduce themselves to me. I met Natasha, a marketing strategist in Tacoma, and Katie, the financial planner. Bruh, I’m really not supposed to be here, am I??? I was a front desk guy. Quietly shoves thoughts and feelings deep down inside.*
The Questions I Was Afraid to Ask
Mid-conversation, Bryson, founder of Foster’s Creative, hopped back on the mic to start the Q&A. After a brief introduction of the event, his story, and the stories of two co-hosts, the Q&A had started. The three- Bryson (Fosters Creative), Bryan (Anthem Coffee), and Katie (Personal Finance Manager) sat awkwardly as the sound of faint white noise from the sound system filled the still Air.
A question sprouted up in my head, but all I could hear was my heart pounding. . . I couldn’t be the first… what if the question wasn’t eloquent and concise enough? Am I a question hog? In my hesitation, two questions flew by. One about work-life balance, and the other about connecting people, but neither of them scratched the itch on my brain.
Like Obi-Wan deflecting a blaster shot, my hand shot up in the air without thinking… .oh shit they actually called on me.
“Hi, my name is Marco, and I’m one of your Neighbors from across the water in NE Tacoma”
A small cheer*
I rapid-fired three questions as eloquently as I could
- I’ve been living in Japan for the Past 8 years; when I moved back, I feel like I’m restarting my life from square one. How do I break into an industry that I have skills in, but they might not know me?
- As a multidisciplinary creative, how do you know which thread to pursue? Like one of your team members, I have my hand in a lot of pots.
- How do you place limits on yourself so you don’t spend too much time chasing perfection? I know we can get caught up in our work, but I also know no one will notice the 2% I shift a color value ?
“Feel free to just answer one if I asked too many questions.”
Bryan paused as a small collection of claps happened.
Quality Questions = Quality Answers
“Wow, these are all really great questions. . . I can touch on one of them, breaking into an industry. It’s almost like what we were saying before. You have to go to places and meet people.” He continued to share a story of how he got into coffee and how his coffee shop is now a space that brings people together. The Mic went to Katie, who gave an equally eloquent and informative response.
“I think when you’re trying to break into an industry, we’re raised into a scarcity framework. We normally default to thinking it’s us vs them. Instead of it’s us with them. I’m a big fan of collaboration over competition. So many cool creative projects are built because we assemble them together.” I thought of the time when I told one of my favorite rappers that I found him because I chose the same name as him. His response to that was a smile.
“Great Minds Think Alike”
Miles Benjamin Lenehan
Finally, the mic was handed to Bryson. He took a deep breath before reaching for a place close to his heart. You could almost feel his vulnerability in the room.
“A lot of creative people I know struggle with the second one. But it’s almost like Stephen King said. . . Sometimes you have to just do the work; I’m not saying that you haven’t, but I find it really important to set a schedule. Creativity is like a muscle that you have to work out every day. In that way you set limits on yourself, and that’s when the most creative ideas happen because you’re like, oh shit I gotta get this done. Chasing perfection . . . It’s a tricky thing that can paralyze you, but you have to remember that perfection is never going to happen.”
Bryson, Katie, and Bryan told me to talk to them after the show.
Three more questions before the Q&A broke out into free chat and drinks. . . Thanks, beer and wine, you gave me the courage to ask that question. . .welp the cup runneth dry. . .better get more of that red wine blend.
Everyone Had a Lab Partner But Me
When everyone broke out into groups, I felt like I was in my biology class again. Everyone had a lab partner but me. You’ll always be there for me, Australian Blended Red. Had I just been hit by Leona’s solar flare? You could almost see the little CC stun icon over my head. Thankfully someone approached me instead.
She, like me, was a multi-disciplinary artist.
“The best way to work around a mixed bag of skills was to combine them all big super project. . . Sometimes the thing you’re good at will carry the thing you’re not so good at. Or perhaps some people like your music but not your art, vice-versa, there’s also people who like everything you do, and it will overlap.”
After some back-and-forth conversations about the creative process. She shared her blog before introducing me to her husband was also an artist and Game Developer. I had always dreamed of being a game developer.
I Had That Dream Once
Her husband and I talked about life. Of course, a large part of that conversation was about video games and game mechanics. He had worked at Nintendo before leaving to work on his own projects. As we talked more, he told me he was a student at DigiPen. Before I realized I was short of both talent and money, I wanted to go there. It would have been nice to find a creative mentor. Not that I’d be conscientious or socially able enough to follow their advice. While we were talking, a man with long hair and round glasses came up and talked to me.
“I know it’s going to work out for you. . . “
I looked to the left, then the right before pointing at my face(Japanese Gesture) was he talking to me??
I Think You Have the Wrong Guy
“Yes, there’s something about you; I can just tell it’s going to happen. I don’t know when, where, or how, but I know it will happen. You don’t know the way these kinds of things will work; it will just come out of nowhere, but you have to believe in yourself. I can tell just by the way you look, you’re an artist, you’re probably one of the best here, you’ve got the clothes, the looks, and the hair, someone would book you.”
“You flatter me, but I don’t think I’m special like that”. . . I mean if I were really that great, I don’t think my life situation would be the way it is.
“No, I’m serious, look around the room, tell me who the artists are . . . I pointed out a couple of people.”
*(Writer Marco)There isn’t a “look for artists” though; we are just as diverse as any other group. Perhaps modern artists tend to dress, look, and act differently, but for the most part a lot of great artists chose relatively normal clothing.
The hyper-creative stereotype might dress outside of the box. Part of that feels performative; some people make the choice to break social conventions, I just don’t know any better. Prince, Rick James, and Yayoi Kusama have that look he’s talking about, though.
“See man . . . You’ve got it, you’re bold, you just have to believe. Do you believe enough to play your music on street corners, sell you art at these events? He listed off a number of things that I know aren’t possible for me.
If all my fans were to give me applause, it would mainly be the sound of my own hands filling the empty auditorium. No one would buy my art in a booth. . .
I was flattered(and flustered) that this random stranger had so much faith in me. . .
Believe in the me that believes in you –
– Kamina Gurren Lagann
Toilet Philosopher
“My name is Skyler. I write poetry.” He continued to share the story of how he met a manager and got published in some writing magazines and books. “I’ll find your Instagram after the event; what’s your handle”
Laidbackmarco
I wanted to hang around and chat, but my social battery needed to recharge like an F1 Car heading into a braking zone. Too bad social batteries don’t have super clipping. More urgent than my social battery was my bladder, which had hit its limit after three drinks.
Peeing gave me the time to ruminate upon Skyler’s words. I didn’t believe in my creative work to take a bet on myself. Only a fool bets on a losing horse. I didn’t even know how to get my foot in the door or what events to try to attend. Did I have the work ethic? Probably . . .the consistency and focus. . . Probably not. I finished up my pee before heading out and having a lengthy conversation with Davey about game development and his past. Davey thought that maybe I should look into making videogame music. Immediately the doubts crept into my mind . . . I don’t know enough music theory for that . I’ve never done that before.
Still, Davey took a genuine interest in my music, and we played it on the phone for two or three people huddled around in a small circle. I should have chosen a song that was finished being mixed and mastered, but oh well.
As the event died down, I could see the core event runners having a conversation outside.
Talk to Us Later
When an autistic person is told to do something, sarcastic or not, they’ll probably do it. Unless they get sidetracked or are completely uninterested. Strangely, the flow of moving outside and joining the other social circle came naturally with the event wrap-up. Because they were so friendly, they naturally opened up their circle.
Bryan introduced himself with a handshake before sharing some advice. I could feel a genuine warmth in his words and actions. I’ve met people who ran their mouth about helping people and service. But when Bryan gushed about bringing the community together with events and culture, he held a genuine desire to help transform people’s lives.
A big part of his business was bringing people together over a cup of coffee. One of my favorite parts of working at the International School in northern Japan was the coffee culture my friend Eric and I had created. I loved the way he excitedly talked about coffee because I was also passionate about the various fragrances and flavors in the roasted fruit pits.
Bryson, who was standing next to me, was chatting with Katie. I waited for a pause in their conversation and softly approached Bryson.
Kindred Spirits
“You told me to talk to you after the show?”. . . The small pause felt longer in my head.
“Yeah, thanks for coming by, I’ve seen you at one of our events before. How have you been?” He asked it so naturally.
“I went to flowers for my city, the ten, it was my first event. . .You were kind of drunk that night, but so was I.” I let out an awkward laugh . . .am I not supposed to say stuff like that?. “When I saw Kevin from Vein Dong was going to be featured in a film, I had to support the premiere. I learned about your company more, and I loved the message you were promoting”
“I guess I wasn’t I?” He chuckled. “About you’re breaking into an industry; do you have any friends that you could throw parties with?? When we started Foster’s Creative, we were having events like this for our friends and family. I would pick up a camera and just start to capture and share. When we had our kid, I was like we have to figure out how to make this work. It’s hard though”
I thought to my friends in the music scene. It was really all my sister’s friends; I was just an adopted loner that liked raves. Come to think of it I barely had close friends. . . It brought me to the pain point disaster of my birthday where only one person bothered to show up. . . That’s a wound I’m not sure will ever heal.
Introverted: Performers with a Fine Print
“I don’t really have many friends, especially now that I’ve just moved back from overseas. I’m a bit of an introvert. . . Speaking of which, you seem like one too.”
Another chuckle.
“You could tell that just from my time up there? Yeah, my social battery was tapped out like an hour ago.” We shared a small bit of understanding as I looked at the lights over the sound.
“People used to ask me how a tour guide could be introverted, but it was different.” I scanned my brain registry for a word I could use to describe the feeling, but I couldn’t place it.
“It’s like a performance,” he cut in. “It’s not that I’m great at socializing, but I can put on a show and entertain.” I took a sip of my wine.
“I know you have a lot of passions and projects, but which one are you the most excited to work on now?” I was surprised he was actually interested. It took me time to think for a second. All the passions I had pulled me in a lot of directions, but if I had to be honest, it was music that I found myself sinking time into the most.
I Used to Make Mixes
“Right now it’s the music. I produce almost every day, even if it’s just playing around in the DAW a bit.”
“How often do you DJ?” He asked.
“Well, I used to make a mix every Saturday, but then when the dream died a bit I lost a bit of motivation. I still pour a lot of hours into production, and when I’m lucky I’ll get to play a house party; but I was kind of at a loss for what to do.”
Bryson made music too; it was probably something he could relate to. He sighed
“It’s hard, man. I’m exhausted running this. I mean didn’t even want to it was just something that kind of happened.” I thought back to when he was talking on stage about being passionate about storytelling.
I wanted to get away from all this, but then I realized even if I lived in the middle of the woods. I’d find someone whose story I would find interesting, and I’d grab a camera and get started again.
I Couldn’t Think of Anything I Loved
I couldn’t think of anything I loved that much. Had the world made me cold and apathetic, or was I always that way?
He had made it, but that also comes with a lot of responsibility. There were employees, payroll, clients, accounting, etc. . .Sensing that the conversation was getting a little heavy I asked a light question
“Hey Bryson, tell me about yourself.” He looked slightly shocked. I didn’t come here for business networking; I had hoped to meet genuine friends and connections. Then again, most people come to these with the pressures of organizations on their backs and KPIs to target. I was lucky to be here representing what I stood for only. I was also curious to know about what shaped the successful people around me.
Bryson told me about his past; he was from a town in Yakima. He told me about how he left his home and eventually settled in Tacoma for various reasons.
“I still miss Yakima,” he said, looking off into the city lights.
City Lights and Dreams and Hope
“I understand that. It took me moving away to a foreign land to realize how cool Tacoma is.” We sat looking off over Tacoma Harbor. I couldn’t help but feel I met a kindred spirit. Bryson looked over at his wife and kid; my eyes followed. I’m glad the whole life thing worked out for one of us, I thought, looking into the night sky.
Out of my peripheral vision, I saw a moving shape. Before I could turn a phrase caught my ear
Synchronicity??
「日本語をしゃべりますか？」( Do you speak Japanese) Katie stood there smiling.
「日本語喋れるよ! 」(I can speak Japanese)The phrase left my mouth without a thought.
Bryson raised an eyebrow.
“We were speaking Japanese!” we voiced in unison, followed by a laugh. Katie explained that she wanted to practice her Japanese and would love to meet me about strategy sometime over coffee. We exchanged Instagram handles and then parted ways. A small group of us made our way to the Chihuly bridge and chatted about various topics before we all parted ways
“What Just Happened?”
I thought about all that had led up to this moment. The world is a small place after all; maybe people want offline authenticity in our modern world. Is this what they call synchronicity, giving me the hope to keep trying? Maybe it was just a glimmer of hope? Maybe hope was a lost cause for me.
Much love,
LaidbackMarco
