A DIFFERENT DRUG
Getting high from peace and quiet, Delta's chicken salad sandwich, Jake Gyllenhaal's dressing room, sloppy is en vogue, and so much more.
I just got back from five days in LA.
I ate way too much meat and was consistently nauseous from all the texting I did in Lyfts. Jeremy finally told me to get my shit together and take his Audi for the rest of the trip. No matter how much that town drives me nuts, there are moments behind the wheel—when a song comes on shuffle during a sunset drive—where everything suddenly makes a LOT of sense.
I was out there for an event in partnership with YoungArts; the organization asked me to come on as curator for a film series featuring their recent graduates. I spent the fall sifting through short film submissions, assembling the most stellar block of five films to present at UCLA’s Nimoy Theatre. The quality of filmmaking from these kids (no one older than 24) was staggering and inspiring. The night was hosted by Tarell Alvin McCraney—he and I hadn’t connected since Choir Boy’s opening night years ago, so it was really great to see that gorgeous alien of a person again—and I was tasked to moderate the Q&A with the filmmakers at the end of the presentation.
I low-key loathe Q&As, so the pressure was high between me, myself, and I. How do I hold court for 30 minutes in a way that feels balanced and meets my infinitely high standards? Ultimately, I took a deep breath and stuck to my notes. Much to my relief, it went really well! The organization was thrilled, the audience seemed inspired, and I schmoozed and mentored throughout the day. (Not to mention how utterly impressive these filmmakers are as businesspeople, too.) It was a very successful day.
But the whole experience was undeniably and categorically work. This kind of thing is consistently part of my job—events, discussions, the harrowing act of “networking”, being on for the sake of a moment’s success or truly any kind of prospective opportunity. Despite this night going well, it evoked the same kind of blood flow.
It was beautiful, but it was work.
I’ve finally reached a point where I’m fully aware of this now. I guess these kinds of “aha!”s are what my 30s are for? Throughout my 20s, these kinds of events and opportunities felt like high-stakes extensions of my being; booked and busy was my identity, my personality. It’s what got me up and flying through the day—chasing the buzz of my next success, barely reflecting on the last. Grind culture was my cult, and Gabriel Gomez: The Person was wholly synonymous with Gabriel Gomez: The Professional. Anticipated chaos of my day-to-day was a drug that got me high.
I haven’t shared this here yet, but since I started SPENT, it’s as though the universe has been calling my bluff—Crooked Letter is having a very good year. Nothing life-changing per se (yet), but enough momentum to make me think maybe this business wants me around a bit longer…at least that’s how it’s felt thus far. You want out? Cool—here’s some delicious fruit to reel you back in.We’re doing well this year and, inevitably, that means I’m back to being on most days.
The point is—it’s important to assess how these kinds of processes—the networking, the linking, the building, the schmoozing, the flurry of growing a company—even in best-case scenarios, are landing in my body. I won’t say they’re stressful, necessarily…but they’re definitely high-energy. My anxiety levels, though manageable, tend to rise. I’m hyper-aware of my body language and who’s getting my time in whatever industry scenario I find myself in. I’ll swing between feeling on top of the world and wholly inadequate in a span of two minutes. It’s an exhausting chemical flurry of identity explorations, power trips, and self-questioning.
Some of you know this, but I own a small house in the Berkshires—right up the hill from Mass MoCA. Despite the expected woes and frustrations of homeownership, the house has become a true sanctuary for me. It’s packed with spiritual and artistic escape. I’m surrounded by nature, new ideas, and blue-collar simplicity. It’s where I go to breathe.
Delaney and I visited it a couple of weeks ago for Niño’s first time. It was truly the best weekend. I felt purely in touch with myself, witnessing the impact of calm on all of us. Four days of joy, communication, healthy eating, and presence.
I teared up as we drove away, realizing that at this age, this is what I truly crave on a consistent basis. The motivations behind my goals have fundamentally changed since my twenties… and I’m seeing them become more and more desirable in real time.
Don’t get me wrong—I understand work is still a necessary puzzle piece. The professional milestones very much remain. But the juice that powers the engine to achieve them is very, very different now. I’m craving a different high.
This all begs the obvious, ongoing questions:
How do I fund a prospective quiet life amidst the financial conditioning the entertainment industry has inevitably had on me?
Shouldn’t I just shut up because I’ve secured some version of both?
Is the grass simply greener, no matter the life we live?
Regardless, I’m finding real solace in owning the fact that this kind of serenity is what I truly crave now…that life isn’t only about success but also about enjoying the minutiae—two hours of sipping coffee and reading, uninterrupted conversations with the love of my life, the hikes, the 9 p.m. bedtimes.
Surprisingly, the more I embrace these cravings and truths, the more productive and balanced I feel in my professional realms—it’s as though setting the bar just a tad lower for myself activates a new kind of sanity-based focus. I’ll continue to explore this dynamic within. Noted.
Walking with my dog and fiancé through the Berkshire woods on a 65 degree day—that’s life. Maybe there will come a time when this kind of magic takes up the lion’s share of my days. Everything else? It’s work. Work I’m proud to continue doing…at least for this month.
One day at a time…
WHAT I CONSUMED
Delaney and I saw Fran Lebowitz speak at Mass MoCA. The evening began with a 30 minute conversation with MoCA director Kristy Edmunds, then she opened the floor for classic audience+Fran discussion. It was one of the more powerful events I’ve experienced, certainly since the godforsaken election. It was raw, hopeful, terrifying, and everything in between. Main takeaway: don’t miss a Fran event—she is one of this nation’s great treasures.
I’m genuinely confused by Celine Song’s next film Materialists. I think there’s a chance it culminates into some kind of meta-casting success (and trailers are weird sometimes, I know)—but the whole thing just feels so…off?
Patrick and I drove to Philly for an afternoon simply to see Darkside play The Filmore. We ate a cheesesteak from Antonio’s (it was outstanding), visited the Magic Gardens (mindblowing), and witnessed one of DARKSIDE’s first shows in a decade (in a room that was half capacity). I anticipate this being a new ritual for us when trying to see popular acts touring the East Coast.
I’m beginning to be one of those people that think Graza olive oil is a complete scam. Frizzle?!
I was really hungry on my flight home from LA, despite oinking out on fruit and egg bites in the Delta lounge like a bougie little piggy. The flight attendant told me they only had a variety of snack boxes and the chicken salad sandwich. I politely declined, but I googled “delta chicken salad sandwich” and was met with this Reddit thread where a few folks were fawning over it. So I got it and ate it while watching A Goofy Movie (which apparently has a making-of documentary coming out??)…and the sandwich was very good.
I went to the Picture of Dorian Gray opening last night. Anyone on the talent side should know that Sarah Snook doesn’t have an understudy and has to deliver that mind-boggling performance 8 shows a week (give her the Tony immediately). Anyone involved in production should know that the reliance the show has on a strong WiFi signal and flawless wireless monitoring will likely bring you a LOT of anxiety (as it did me).
WHAT I LEARNED
The 27 year old White House press secretary decided last week was the perfect time to post about her and her 59 year old husband’s wedding. I’m actually surprised by how cheap and crammed together it all looked.
Jake Gyllenhaal tapped designers from Atelier LK to trick out his Othello dressing room into a “narrative-driven” space. I can’t help but wonder what that did to the show’s overall capitalization. No wonder the ATP is so high—they gotta pay off Jake’s La Marzocco!
I giggled when Kristen announced that Delta Diamond Medallion Status was part of the grand prize for this season of Top Chef. I’m jealous; you would think as a million+ credit card point hoarder, I would’ve been better about airline loyalty over the years.
The Dare fell into a crowd of women and Tracy Morgan projectile vomited courtside at the Knicks game. Is being sloppy in?
Bathhouse continues to be raked over the coals for their UTI-giving, worm-filled facilities. Wait until people realize they’re mining crypto in the basements to heat their facilities…oh, wait…
This unscripted mandate from Peacock made me laugh—further reinforcing Lev’s and my theory that the 2010s are well and truly over:
SOMETHING ELSE TO READ
You’re going to be tired either way - I’ve known Teddy for a while, and it’s been inspiring to see him cook on Substack. He’s an actual writer, and takes the craft of writing pretty damn seriously. Pieces like this feel like portals into his daily subconscious.
The Aimless Drift of Your Early Thirties - surprising to see Alison Roman’s name in an Interview Magazine (or is it, really, these days?). But I enjoyed this exchange between her and Josh Duboff.
What Happened to American Freedom? - one of my favorite writers on this platform, Hannah Wik, continues to make simple-yet-profound points and observations. I’d like to say what she’s pointing out in this piece is culturally attainable…but it’s truly so bleak right now.
Uninterested in “anything that feels overly earnest or soft” lmao
Liking the variety of insights and reviews and entertainment. I'm a fan already.