please ...
please take the time to read this.
this story is so intense for me to write i don't even know where to begin.
I guess before I tell this I should really explain the legend behind the man I will be writing about. Dick Smith. He is undisputedly the pioneer in the make up industry. He has worked on everything from the exorcist to the godfathers. he himself came up with so many techniques and effects that the industry uses. He is respected by all and at 82 he is truly an idol in this genre.
he spent the last two days at our school guest lecturing. you would have thought god himself was making an appearance. the school spent so much money fixing the place up for his arrival. being such a celebrity it was an honor for any of us to be near him. however the only thing more legendary then his movie credits and skill was his attitude. we were told, or have known from first hand accounts, that he was an asshole. he would tear our work to shreds. we were not to ask for autographs and if we could.. just avoid talking to him at all costs.
the last two days have been hell as everyone ran around like mad trying to look and act their best, try not to insult Dick Smith.. or even make eye contact for too long.
The man seriously has an aura around him I have never experienced. The most respected and revered teachers coward like children to his presence.
imagine someone you respect and admire.. that you hold on a superhero type status,.. be it a musician.. an actor.. an author.. someone who's name alone is almost intimidating. and if it helps you to understand this story.. replace their name with his.
and on we go.
Today Dick Smith made his rounds with the different classes to see all semesters work. He marched through our class quickly and barely made a sound. everyone was so nervous you could hear the class collectively inhale and hold their breath until he left.
I thought "so that was it?" relatively painless yet not exactly enjoyable.
about one hour later he came back in and asked if anyone had any questions they would like to ask him, and 30 minutes later we found him sitting in the middle of our class talking endlessly about movies and actors. how he almost got in a fist fight with dennis quaid, and how dustin hoffman would send him checks for movies he had worked on even after Dick was well paid through the producers, just because dustin thought he did such a good job. the class was silent hanging on to every word and as the minutes passed more and more students filed in.
Every eye and ear was focused on this one little old man. Every movement, every sound, every hand gesture, we were taking notes.
It was like sitting in front of our fate. He could make or break us. everyword to every questing perfected to make sure as to not offend or attack. Everyone was on guard.
Then his tone changed. From confident and scripted, to relaxed and carefree. it went from a lecture to a conversation. We started warming up and interacting, yet still on our best behavior.
and then it happened.
He had gone off on a tangent as he so loves to do and he started talking about the days when he first started off in makeup. About being unsure of his skills and application. and then a sort of calm came over him and he started talking about his past.
He told us he had never shared this before with anyone but when he was 23 he hit an all time low. He couldn't physically stand the sight of himself and thought nothing of his talent or future. he hated himself. He felt weak and defeated and at 23 he tried to kill himself. he took a shotgun and attempted to end his life.
It was at this point that time stopped. And his eyes began to swell. and this icon.. this myth.. this legend.. began to cry.
He told us of how his parents were never supportive to him and he never felt like they truly loved him. About his regrets with his family growing up and how he felt so alone.
It came to a point where he had to say "I'm all I've got" and he dedicated himself into his makeup and became what he is today.
He talked about how the last thing we want to become are our parents but we only learn to love from them. His oldest son is 45 and getting out of tragic divorce and how he felt like his son never learned to love as a result of him. and he started to cry again.
He started talking about the Hoffman institute that will take an individual and the effects of their parents on their life and work through all the demons to become the best person you can be by facing your past, and working through it. His son had gone in a few months back and came out a changed man.
Through tears and a broken tone.He told us he himself was going to be admitted this October to work through his own demons from his parents. And with wide eyes, full of tears, the most innocent and fragile voice looked up and said "at 82.. it isn't too late is it?"
And my life stopped. I had to cry.
To see someone so powerful suddenly become so human. To think my god.. everyone is never what they are perceived to be. The strongest man can be so weak.. it was beautiful. At 82 he was going to try to fix what was left. it really never is too late.
I know my own past with depression and suicide and my father. While it holds me back, haunts me at times, and has shaped every part of who I am at only 24.. it was inspiring. Shocking. I was in awe.. of the moment. Of the man.
I cant even do justice with my words to all of the emotion that was experienced in that room for 3 hours.
And at the end of it all he gave us his cell phone number if we ever needed to talk.
I came to this school to learn makeup and suddenly i'm knee deep in life lessons, remorse, and growth from a man I will never look at the same way again.
He is now my equal. Another human being just trying to figure out how to survive. I wish everyone could have experienced the beauty, honesty, and purity of an 82 year old man who is supposed to be hateful and calloused ... cry .. and mourn love... it will reshape the way you think.
I cant even type im crying just thinking about it.
to see into a persons soul.
i should just stop writing now.. its actually far to hard to convey. i lied. don't read this.it all comes out wrong.
this story is so intense for me to write i don't even know where to begin.
I guess before I tell this I should really explain the legend behind the man I will be writing about. Dick Smith. He is undisputedly the pioneer in the make up industry. He has worked on everything from the exorcist to the godfathers. he himself came up with so many techniques and effects that the industry uses. He is respected by all and at 82 he is truly an idol in this genre.
he spent the last two days at our school guest lecturing. you would have thought god himself was making an appearance. the school spent so much money fixing the place up for his arrival. being such a celebrity it was an honor for any of us to be near him. however the only thing more legendary then his movie credits and skill was his attitude. we were told, or have known from first hand accounts, that he was an asshole. he would tear our work to shreds. we were not to ask for autographs and if we could.. just avoid talking to him at all costs.
the last two days have been hell as everyone ran around like mad trying to look and act their best, try not to insult Dick Smith.. or even make eye contact for too long.
The man seriously has an aura around him I have never experienced. The most respected and revered teachers coward like children to his presence.
imagine someone you respect and admire.. that you hold on a superhero type status,.. be it a musician.. an actor.. an author.. someone who's name alone is almost intimidating. and if it helps you to understand this story.. replace their name with his.
and on we go.
Today Dick Smith made his rounds with the different classes to see all semesters work. He marched through our class quickly and barely made a sound. everyone was so nervous you could hear the class collectively inhale and hold their breath until he left.
I thought "so that was it?" relatively painless yet not exactly enjoyable.
about one hour later he came back in and asked if anyone had any questions they would like to ask him, and 30 minutes later we found him sitting in the middle of our class talking endlessly about movies and actors. how he almost got in a fist fight with dennis quaid, and how dustin hoffman would send him checks for movies he had worked on even after Dick was well paid through the producers, just because dustin thought he did such a good job. the class was silent hanging on to every word and as the minutes passed more and more students filed in.
Every eye and ear was focused on this one little old man. Every movement, every sound, every hand gesture, we were taking notes.
It was like sitting in front of our fate. He could make or break us. everyword to every questing perfected to make sure as to not offend or attack. Everyone was on guard.
Then his tone changed. From confident and scripted, to relaxed and carefree. it went from a lecture to a conversation. We started warming up and interacting, yet still on our best behavior.
and then it happened.
He had gone off on a tangent as he so loves to do and he started talking about the days when he first started off in makeup. About being unsure of his skills and application. and then a sort of calm came over him and he started talking about his past.
He told us he had never shared this before with anyone but when he was 23 he hit an all time low. He couldn't physically stand the sight of himself and thought nothing of his talent or future. he hated himself. He felt weak and defeated and at 23 he tried to kill himself. he took a shotgun and attempted to end his life.
It was at this point that time stopped. And his eyes began to swell. and this icon.. this myth.. this legend.. began to cry.
He told us of how his parents were never supportive to him and he never felt like they truly loved him. About his regrets with his family growing up and how he felt so alone.
It came to a point where he had to say "I'm all I've got" and he dedicated himself into his makeup and became what he is today.
He talked about how the last thing we want to become are our parents but we only learn to love from them. His oldest son is 45 and getting out of tragic divorce and how he felt like his son never learned to love as a result of him. and he started to cry again.
He started talking about the Hoffman institute that will take an individual and the effects of their parents on their life and work through all the demons to become the best person you can be by facing your past, and working through it. His son had gone in a few months back and came out a changed man.
Through tears and a broken tone.He told us he himself was going to be admitted this October to work through his own demons from his parents. And with wide eyes, full of tears, the most innocent and fragile voice looked up and said "at 82.. it isn't too late is it?"
And my life stopped. I had to cry.
To see someone so powerful suddenly become so human. To think my god.. everyone is never what they are perceived to be. The strongest man can be so weak.. it was beautiful. At 82 he was going to try to fix what was left. it really never is too late.
I know my own past with depression and suicide and my father. While it holds me back, haunts me at times, and has shaped every part of who I am at only 24.. it was inspiring. Shocking. I was in awe.. of the moment. Of the man.
I cant even do justice with my words to all of the emotion that was experienced in that room for 3 hours.
And at the end of it all he gave us his cell phone number if we ever needed to talk.
I came to this school to learn makeup and suddenly i'm knee deep in life lessons, remorse, and growth from a man I will never look at the same way again.
He is now my equal. Another human being just trying to figure out how to survive. I wish everyone could have experienced the beauty, honesty, and purity of an 82 year old man who is supposed to be hateful and calloused ... cry .. and mourn love... it will reshape the way you think.
I cant even type im crying just thinking about it.
to see into a persons soul.
i should just stop writing now.. its actually far to hard to convey. i lied. don't read this.it all comes out wrong.