check-in:
In an interview, Tina Fey discussed great advice she received from Lorne Michaels. “Always remind people of who you are.” You’ll see this play out for the duration of most peoples careers. It’s a great way to commence, with a greeting. I’d like to reintroduce myself, formally and reinvigorate what I’m here to do.
Hello, my name is Robert and I am a writer and recipe developer. I am also a comedian and performer. Years ago, (happy I can say that now) I completed The Artist's Way and it changed me. Anyone who’s read the text knows the relationship with the material is different for everyone, but I still do my morning pages and take myself out on artist dates. To me, these two habits have proven their potency in opening my life up for good.
The food I make is Eurocentric and is inspired by work, travel and the seasons. I believe in indulgence, I operate with abundance. Some of my strongest values are improvisation, integrity and honesty. I love handwritten letters and long phone calls. Peace, to me, feels like the comfort of one’s home either crying or laughing.
For a while now I’ve wrestled with the idea of labeling myself conceding to a broader identity as a creative. I’ve had a hard time finding the confidence to stand in my dreams and anchor myself to what I desire. The change in attitude came when I realized I’m already living in what I’ve set out to do. For now, it might not look like what I had envisioned but I make incremental motions slouching ever-so-slightly closer to a bigger stage.
I am a published author. I see Substack now as my publishing tool and I am grateful something like Substack exists for me to create and build an audience. I cook weekly recipes and my relationship with food has dramatically improved. Cooking never feels like work, it’s pure pleasure. I’ve picked up improv again and have felt welcomed to the community instantaneously. All this to say, I am genuinely in a good place. The truth is, I have been for a while.
There's an old narrative I was holding onto and it no longer serves me. I have an illness to sabotage myself when things are going well. My mind thinks, well, hold on now this cannot be that good. I’ll look to the left and right trying to find ways my life just “isn’t.” Not only does this hurt any and all progress I’ve made but it diminishes the work I’m putting forth.
In The Artist's Way, Julia Cameron reveals a mantra of sorts, “treat yourself like a precious object, it will only make you stronger.” When I show true kindness to myself, when I lower the façade, a soft bright eyed young boy emerges. Me. The me I’ve been since I was born. Hello, my name is Robert and I have big dreams and a story to tell.

the meaning of dreams
I finally dreamt a dream I could actually remember. According to neuroscientists, you always dream, but you can’t recall every one. My first vivid dream in a while felt special, it was an old dream.
After leaving my job at The French Laundry the first time, I cosmically responded to a lot of feedback I received about being “funny.” Guests would comment on my table-side manner with praises like, “you’re so funny,” or “you should do comedy.” So, I listened and moved to Los Angeles. Instantaneously, before securing a job, I signed up at UCB (Upright Citizens Brigade) for improv classes.
I was 25 at the time and my mind explored the idea of where this could take me. I dove, head first, right into the thick of comedy. I went to shows, and I offered myself to partake in showcases. I dabbled in open mics for stand-up. I was certain I would make it. However, my mindset was operating on fumes and lofty ambitions. Most people in my life knew why I moved to Los Angeles and their response was mixed. I was enveloped in the idea “success is the best revenge.”
I wanted results normally taking years to achieve to appear magically. I can still remember speaking with a classmate of mine at UCB and asking them how long they’d been doing comedy for. “I’ve been at this for about ten years.” That's all I needed to hear. Relatively quickly, I started to give up. Luckily with the help of old journals, I knew exactly where I was trying to head.
I dreamt of being a sketch comedian landing on SNL. For me, this didn’t feel far from reality from my tenure working in the apex of the restaurant world without much struggle. My twenty-something self was brazen with and blinded by ambition. SNL has always been the Olympics of comedy. Time, duress and a live taping all adding to the art form that is comedy. Sign me up. I love a challenge and specifically a place where I know I can cut my teeth and work at something with fierce dedication.
It’s been years since I’ve touched the idea of that dream, until recently. I’ve been on a regime of making sleep the utmost priority. Ensuring a solid eight hours might not be enough for me. My soul needs a Dakota Johnson amount of sleep (according to her it's 10-14 hours).
On one of these nights my dream was oddly vivid. I was seated in a normal office building. The energy surrounding my presence felt like an interview. I was called to the waiting area. The person escorting me asked if I was ready. I confidently said, “absolutely.” I was told that they would call my name and I would enter through the door closest in proximity. My name was called and I stepped into the famed SNL Studio 8H.
The lights were blinding and I couldn’t make out any faces. I introduced myself, as I’ve become accustomed to do. For five minutes I gave impressions, quick jokes all seemingly working cohesively to form a taste for what I’m capable of as a performer. After the act was complete, I thanked everyone for their time and expressed my gratitude.
Back in a holding area I sat and waited for the interview portion of my time at Studio 8H. I had a meeting with Lorne Micheals. I don’t get nervous around famous people, or names I’ve known for years with bold reputations. I observe them, I take them in and remind myself they are human, like me. Status isn’t something I care much about and I know I belong in the room. I’m well mannered and mindful to have some reverence for the years of work I’ve admired personally.
The interview was in classic Lorne Michaels vernacular. “So, we start in September.” Cryptically I knew this was an acceptance of my comedy, my entire life’s work as a waiter, manager, writer, cook and now comedian. The details of the dream had an electric vibration transcending the realm of a dream.
I am not afraid anymore to dream as big as I do. I have a lot of faith in working hard and constantly trying. Failing is information rather than disappointment. Failing has a compass attached to it showing you where true north is. What's funny about the dream is how much I didn’t “want” it. I no longer felt the incessant, needy, yearning approach to dreams. What changed was me. The security I feel is knowing if it’s meant to be it will.
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