Contrast.

Yet again, life looks so much different than it feels.

Londo Lodge Kitchen, under construction earlier this year.

This is going to be a quick post. I’m trying to be better about being more concise with my words and not feeling like I need to write a novel every time I write here. Not my strong suit.

Today I am headed up to Londo Lodge, my Yosemite cabin, to shoot some video for a brand (deliverables from a contract created in 2020). In these videos, I will chat about how much I love my new kitchen, how I designed it, the inspiration behind the project, how I took a 1990s dated builder grade kitchen and transformed it into something out of a Nancy Meyers movie.

I will try not to talk about the fact that most people can’t afford this kitchen, I couldn’t even afford it and building it ruined me financially. I won’t talk about the fact that I have $1.83 in my bank account today - I lent my last $100 to a friend so his car payment wouldn’t bounce (I know that fear, I’ve been there). I won’t talk about the fact that at this point I am basically paying to work. I won’t talk about the fact that I was too depressed this past week to do much - which in turn didn’t help me much financially. I won’t talk about the dread I’m feeling as I await more information about whether my house will enter into foreclosure or not. I’ve been gritting my teeth and trying to act like everything is fine over here. However, the behind the scenes is still kind of a mess.

I will look like an affluent person bragging about his fancy kitchen in his fancy house in the forest. And the kitchen is beautiful. And I am lucky, like exceptionally so. But sometimes I feel like, “If this is lucky, what about everyone else who isn’t so lucky? Because this is still pretty fucking hard?”

I guess that is my main issue with the past few years. I have had so many privileges and so much luck in my life and the past four years have still been nearly impossible. What about people who don’t have the education, experience, and random “right-place-right-time” luck I’ve had in my life? They can’t all be as fine as they’re pretending to be.

Or maybe they are and I’m just a huge fuck up, who knows?

The feeling I have isn’t sorry for myself. It’s more, “why are we all pretending everything is okay again? It’s clearly not.” My job as a content producer specifically requires I paint a happy, aspirational picture of myself online. And I plan to do that job. But it will feel weird to do it. It will make me feel a bit like a fraud even though nothing I’m saying is technically a lie.

I have heard about this type of experience from multiple friends over the years. A comedian gets a Netflix special but is broke by the time it comes out and she has to do press for it. A successful author comes out with a new book but can’t afford to fund his own book tour (publishers aren’t doing those like they used to). A screenwriter’s movie premiers at a film festival but he can’t afford to fly there to be at the premier. In the creative world, there’s often a disconnect between your financial situation and when you have a career “moment.” And since we equate money and success, that can make one feel like a fraud.

I guess it just feels weird to be struggling financially whilst having a kitchen this fancy. The overall budget for the kitchen was over $250,000 (most was sponsored, I paid just over $100,000). I had to finish it for contractual reasons - it was years behind schedule by the time it was done. It became a sort of cautionary tale about influencer culture in which I myself felt mislead by the type of content I produce, causing me to take a break from wanting to make any content for months (which hasn’t been great for business to be honest). I’m getting back to it, but it’s slow going because still feel burned.

I am thank for this new kitchen, endlessly. I cannot believe this kitchen is mine. It is truly so beautiful and I am so thankful to the sponsors who traded me such beautiful things for marketing assets. I could not have made this kitchen happen if I were not the person I am, with the job I have, in the place and time in which I live.

Contrasting feelings: shame, joy, embarrassment, gratitude, fear, pride, glee, regret, elation.

Ultimately, if I can figure out the lender situation and hold on to this house, which I think I can, this kitchen will bring me more than it took. But today, I head up to my cabin, to sit in front of a camera expressing joy. Behind my eyes will be fear, anxiety, and an overall feeling that I am lying, even though I’m not.

What I’ll be saying will be true, but I’ll feel like a fraud the whole time.