I understand that Sting isn’t really stalking me, but I find him to be an excellent symbol of my culture. Plus, it probably wouldn’t hurt you to install some more of those security lights, just in case. Be aware, though, that I have not yet found an effective amount of security to deter him. Sting’s a wily one.
It all started on my first trip to Europe. I was in Amsterdam with my mother and I was getting a more worldly perspective of things when along comes pop singing sensation Sting. I found it fitting that I saw someone who had made it big in America while trying to get away from all of that. I made eye contact and didn’t fully comprehend that he was a celebrity until he had passed by. My knees weakened and I couldn’t speak a full sentence without stuttering because I had seen someone “famous”. I realized the ridiculousness of this situation soon afterward. I had never talked to this man before, never got to know his inner workings and for some reason I was going to pass out with excitement because I saw him. Sting is pure Hollywood, glitz, and glamour.
Growing up in southern California, I am saturated with a Hollywood mentality where liposuction is far too accepted and money is far too important. My culture is shallow and superficial no matter how I look at it. Living near this film capital of the world had both inspired and disgusted me. Their mainstream mush fuels my desire to make my own movies that have important messages and pave new ground. I watch as many independent and foreign movies as possible to discover how they tap into their creativity, while trying to learn how James Cameron plays with my emotions so well.
I try to learn about new cultures, listen to new music, and watch avant-garde films. Somehow, Sting (and his mainstream idealism) pops his creepy little head up in these cultures, music, and movies. Everyday since the Sting sighting (except for observed holidays of course, he likes to spend those with his family) I have seen or heard him. I’ve seen him on TV, in magazines, movies, music videos, commercials, on the radio, everywhere. It’s past the point of bizarre. I don’t mean to say that all my attempts at gaining a more worldly perspective are futile, because I do learn about other cultures avidly. I started early on as a child when my mother kept books around the house about foreign cities and countries that I studied and dreamt about. She was also very insistent that whenever you visit a foreign land, you must eat at a different restaurant every night and never, never, never eat at an American fast food chain. I have held this belief to this day.
My heart aches to live in a city where there are so many differences packed together. Where there are so many ideas and the Stings of the world don’t dominate my life. I know that in a city, my mind will be able to explore new thoughts and feed off of new experiences. I am determined to find them and I wait with anticipation.
I don’t hold Sting in my mind as a curse. Rather, he’s part of my identity and to hate him would be to hate myself and my background. Instead I accept my Hollywood culture and use it as a platform to shape my own creativity until it’s completely unique. If I saw Sting again, I don’t think I would approach him. Instead, I would pass by with a smile spreading across my face, knowing that his essence is a part of me.