Bored to Death in ATX

moon dreams

2012-01-09T21:07:00.001-08:00

Last night I dreamt of a setting moon. But it was moving much too fast leaving the sky behind it bewildered. Like someone was pulling it out of the sky and down into the mountains where it disappeared. I was a passenger in a car, watching it all happen. I asked the people I was with if they saw it but they didn't. And I couldn't describe it to them as I was still in a state of shock.

When I woke up I tried to figure out where the moon had been going, and if it had gone willingly or not. Maybe it got bored up there. Maybe someone became so enchanted by the moon they wanted it all for themselves. I think ultimately they will end up disappointed though. Without the sun the moon does not shine. It's magic lies in it's dance with the universe, not in the thing itself.

In the dream the moon didn't change size as it came closer to the earth, this defiance of physics being the first clue that it was, in fact, a dream (in fact one of my favorite things about dreams is how it plays fast and loose with the universe's natural laws). Although this fact did not strike me in the dream, nor when I woke up, but only just now when I was remembering it. So the moon that was being kidnapped probably turned out to be just about the size of a very large beach ball, but without the ability to bounce. Whoever took that moon is getting a raw deal but it's no less than they deserve.

Venice Beach, etc...

2011-12-21T14:45:00.001-08:00

There's something I love about finding my way about in an unfamiliar city. Not that Los Angeles is that unfamiliar to me, I've been here dozens of time throughout my life. But I never really get to know it. It's both familiar and unfamiliar. And I see it differently each time I come here, no doubt because I'm a little older each time and I see and appreciate things differently as I age. When I arrived I was shuttled to my hotel by an aging Iranian immigrant who told me I had an intelligent face and that he loved classical music. He had it tuned to LA's classical station which played Schubert first then Ravel, a good soundtrack to enter the city to if I do say so myself.

Last night I walked three and a half miles along the beach from my hotel to the 3rd St Promenade on Santa Monica Blvd to eat dinner at a vegan place (Real Food Daily) with my sister and her friend Paul Ill, a wonderful human being, who regaled us with tales of James Hatfield on Ozzy's tour bus, Billy Corgan circa 1997, Juliette Lewis and the Licks, and Courtney Love from when he was helping write one of her albums. He later played us a track from his friend Farley's latest recording, which was excellent and whose voice is shockingly similar in quality to Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth, and who also happened to join us for dinner (so I guess he's my friend now too!).

En route to dinner I passed through the remnants of the outdoor vendors on the Venice Beach promenade as they put away their wares and was solicited by several medical marijuana dispensaries in various humorous ways (my fave was "The dr. is single and ready to mingle!"). Ten years ago I would have taken them up on the offer, but my pot-head days are behind me and instead I spent my money this afternoon at Titanic Boutique, one of the top ten hat shops in the country (presumably, though I totally believe it). Owned by a charming middle-aged man from Queens who really really knows his hats and spent a good 45 minutes with me helping me pick out just the right one. I ended up with two of what are now the best hats in my collection and got a good deal on them as well.

On my way back to the hotel I met the iconic Sikh and psychedelic guitar player Harry Perry, who I first remember seeing in Perry Farrel's "Gift". He's still playing the white guitar with the red swirls. Our eyes met in a friendly greeting and he turned around to talk to me. To be fair he did want to sell me one of his shirts, which has a much more psychedelic design on it than anything I'd ever wear but I bought it anyway because I want to support him and we chatted about music and yoga (he's a yogi too and teaches a class in Venice). And then a little further down the way (or was it before, now I don't remember) I chatted with a Reggae artist and hip hop guy, listened to their CDs and bought one of each. Both had lyrics with a positive message and personalities to match. We talked about Austin and SXSW but when the hip hop guy asked me what I was doing later I took my leave.

I ended my two hour walk-about on the pier, not sure of the name but it's the one the ends Washington Blvd, and just listened the sounds of the ocean noticing the very distinct effects it had on my nervous system. And I wondered how it came to be that I loved that sound so much and why it makes me feel the way that it does. I didn't come up with an answer but I felt much more like myself when I got back to my hotel. Yesterday after my flight I was on edge, discombobulated a bit due to air travel (which I loath).

Tonight I plan to hit a speakeasy in downtown LA with my good friend Josh. Apparently they have an excellent jazz band that plays all the standards. Can't wait!

Tomorrow, Disneyland.

I would post up some pics but for some reason my apps are not recognizing that my iPhone has any... not sure what's up with that.

I can't get no... satisfaction...

2011-12-13T16:30:00.001-08:00

I've begun thinking about what kind of changes I need to make in my life in order for me to move on to the next level. And by next level I mean in both thinking and creating, and possibly next level living as well. I've always been resistant to the idea that "levels" exist. It implied, to me at least, there was something better or worse than where one was at, or who one was at any particular time. It was a judgement, and a falsehood perpetuated by those who benefited from people being constantly dissatisfied with what they had (and in this very idea I have conflicts as well... in order to create one cannot ever be satisfied fully, or there is no reason to create anything... at the same time what kind of life is it when you are constantly dissatisfied with the here and now... the very idea of "satisfaction" as an attainable goal is of itself ridiculous on some levels... Should I be satisfied with living a comfortable life, ie in comparison to so many others in this world, and not complain? Or should I recognize that there are constant threats to the ability to live such life and therefor never be satisfied with what I have at the present moment? In Buddhism this is an apparent contradiction. But really the heart of that matter is not about being satisfied or dissatisfied at all... it is about not being attached to either state of being, recognizing that states of being constantly change and the world is as it is at the present moment due to the interaction of cause and effect that cannot ever be changed (sans TARDIS anyway)... whoa, that was quite a digression... shall I continue? right)...

I still feel referencing the word "levels" perpetuates a falsehood to a certain degree but it's useful when talking about certain, well, aspirations. So when I say I want to get to the next level it's not that I feel like where I am at is not good enough. It is a not a value judgement in any way. I've come to understand that I am, right now, exactly who I want to be... but I'm not necessarily doing what I want to do. There is a very distinct difference as I do not identify myself as a person with what I do with my time...

So, what this all means is that I've recognized that in order to get where I want to be (which is no one place in particular mind you), and do what I want to do, I really have to up my game. I have to become acutely aware of the game I'm playing, how I'm playing it, how far I want to go with it, and what exactly I want from it. The question of "where the fuck am I going and why" has just jumped to the forefront of my concerns.

I know why I want to write. I know, mostly, what I want to say. And I am completely comfortable with the fact that these desires will evolve in the future. I now find myself at a loss for understanding what all my options really are with regards to writing and where I fit in in a world of authors and screenwriters. I may understand more fully when I have a body of work that I feel represents what I can do and that I'm proud of, if not, necessarily, satisfied with.

All these things apply to my aspirations as a performer as well, but that, as they say, is another matter entirely.

Abilities and Proclivities...

2011-12-07T10:51:00.000-08:00

Well... well, well, well...

This last month was a great month for me to get to know myself and my abilities (and proclivities) a little bit better.

First, I resigned my position as manager at the Alamo Drafthouse. Management in a company as large as The Drafthouse is getting is not something I am predisposed towards. What I wanted to do was be more involved and make the bar badass. They wanted that too, but they also wanted me to worry about labor statistics and bottom line stuff (among other things). There is almost nothing in the world that could make me care about those things unless I was owner of said business. It was stressing me out, even when I wasn't there, which is a definite sign that the job was not for me (and kudos to those brave souls who have the aptitude for that work, it's almost as thankless as being a runner). So I'm back to being pretty much just head bartender. Which still allows me to be more involved and make the bar badass, as I'm essentially the liaison between the higher ups and the rest of us lowly bartenders. But I'm much happier, so there.

On a side note, it makes me said that they have decided to get rid of their "Badass Cinema" branding technique

and decided to go with the much more generic logo.
It's never easy to watch something so beloved change into something else I guess. And I hope, at the very least, the Alamo's roots are never completely forgotten.

Secondly, I have been making progress on a screenplay and discovering that hey, I do have it in me after all. So I've got that going for me.

Thirdly... I really missed my calling. I should have been a dancer. The best time I have every week is in dance class. Jazz, hip hop, modern, African (yes, African... I'm really only white on the outside). I hope to be taking an intro to tap at the beginning of the year as well. Haven't done any tap since I was, oh, 4 years old or so. I'll also be taking some singing lessons. I'll let everyone know when I'm performing in my first cabaret act (this is seriously a goal of mine).

I've also discovered that, while I still suck at accents (like, seriously), I'm pretty good at changing my look.
Exhibit A, 1930's Norma Shearer...

Exhibit B, Lilith of Borderlands video game...

Yeah, okay, to be fair I didn't really do much except change my hair, makeup and outfit. But it's amazing how such things can really change one's behavior and mannerisms. A year ago I would have only been comfortable as Exhibit B... but the Norma look is really growing on me. Turns out I contain multitudes. Who knew?

Action!

2011-11-20T21:18:00.001-08:00

I have many guilty pleasures. One of them is my love of over-the-top period piece action films. Whether they are from a comic book, a video game or the original work of a screenwriter doesn't matter. They are all fair game. And it seems unfair to me that these movies get a bad rep just because they tend to lack subtlety in story telling. So here's a list, ending in the most recent one I've seen, followed by my review of said film...

The Mummy & The Mummy Returns (I love these, I don't care what you think!)

Gladiator

Prince of Persia (yeah yeah, suck it)

300 (see above)

Clash of the Titans (the old one)

Conan The Barbarian & Destroyer

Some more that I can't think of at the moment...

and...

Immortals...

Now, this is not a good film by any stretch of the imagination. The story telling is shite... I mean really. These character's reasons for being are just kind of weak in general. However, Tarsem Singh manages to save what could have been an unredeemable film by over saturating it with style. Micky Rourke didn't hurt, and neither did Stephen Dorff (another guilty pleasure). It was a great role for Dorff, if one dimensional (he's kind of a one dimensional actor so maybe that's why the role suited him). It also required that he have his shirt off the whole time, so yay for me.

Anyway, where was I??? Oh yeah, Dorff's torso not withstanding, um... Singh's style is all over this movie, and that is a really really good thing. I think he might be having a love affair with the color red, first off. The reds in all his films are so rich they stand out above everything. It's as if the red items in each scene are there to embrace the characters, or maybe bind them to the film. Except the blood. The blood isn't red, it's purple. And there's lots of it, but I digress.

Singh also uses a lot of geometric shapes. The tiles in the wall behind the king, the cubes and curved walls that exist in the middle of nothing and nowhere, perfectly straight and smooth walls jutting out from jagged rocks. Clearly defined lines. And symmetry. Perfect symmetry except where there isn't, which is purposeful. And Singh knows how to manipulate the camera so that his intricate and detailed sets are properly exploited in each shot. Nothing goes to waste, except the dialogue, and that's not really his fault.

If The Fall (one of Singh's previous films and one that I truly love) was like a journey through Salvador Dali's head, then Immortals is something both older and more contemporary, more fantastical but less surreal (this is where I lament my limited knowledge of art, for try as I might I cannot name an artist that meets this criteria, but I know I've seen what I'm thinking of, somewhere).

The main problems I had with the film, which were easily ignored while trying to take in Singh's stylistic marvels, were thus...

-The dialogue, while not the worst ever (I think that might go to Priest), was unnecessarily bad. And I say that because it could have so easily been fixed.

-The character of Athena was terribly miscast. Athena is the goddess of warfare, wisdom and courage (among other things) and should command a presence. This girl didn't. Though she was very pretty and not a bad actress.

-And the other gods, save for Zeus, were too young. The gods didn't need to be elderly or anything, but they should have at least had a face that looked like it had experienced something. Poseidon looked like Jacob from the fucking Twilight movies for fucks sake.

-Some of the plot points seemed to have been thrown in there at random. It's not that they weren't internally consistent, or beyond the realm of possibility, there was just no set up. First they're here, then they're there. And oh so quickly. You just have to accept it. What it says to me is that the writers didn't know their setting well enough. It's like, we need to get the protagonist and antagonist up into Tartarus somehow so they can have their big showdown. Oh, okay, how about I put a staircase here and one just follows the other and in five seconds they are top of a wall the height of the Hoover Dam. K? K.

-Finally, the stakes weren't really high enough. At any time the gods from Olympus could have come down and put a stop to anything they damn well pleased. And indeed, anytime the "good guys" were in a jam, one of the gods "defied" Zeus and lent a helping hand, effectively barring the protagonists from earning anything on their own.

Okay, that's pretty much it. Seems like a lot to overcome, so you should believe me when I tell you that the Singh style signature is that good. If you don't believe me watch The Cell and The Fall (I like the latter much more than the former, just so you know).

Regardless, it was enjoyable to watch. Oh, one more thing... 3D on this is a waste. 2D would have been perfectly fine, in fact probably better because you're not wearing those damn glasses the whole time.

A stress filled trifecta...

2011-11-18T13:10:00.000-08:00

This week I completed three projects that required me to delve into territory that I have never really delved into before. In retrospect it seems that being under the pressure of a deadline helped a great deal in creating an intense level of focus. And I find that I like myself a great deal when I am focused like that. Though other people may not like me so much. I can get a little snappy when stressed out.

The way it all played out was a little strange. It was one thing at first, and then all the sudden it was a million things, all due in a week. Firstly, November is character month in my acting class. This means each student is given an iconic actor from any era between the 20's and 60's to research and then present, as that character, to the class. My presentation was due yesterday. I had three weeks to do this but of course I procrastinated. More on that later.

Secondly, at the beginning of last week I was informed at work that I had been advanced to the third round of interviews to be an "opening trainer", which basically means I'll be training bartenders at new Alamo's all over the country should I get the position. The interview consisted of giving a fifteen minute presentation on a topic to the interviewers (the intent is that you need to be able to teach the topic and ensure they learned the information), and oh yeah, my presentation is on Tuesday. Again, requiring a great deal of research on a topic I didn't know much about at the time.

Finally, a friend of mine advised me that the rag he writes for is looking for freelance writers. He gave me some pointers on doing a writing sample and asked to have it by Monday (last monday). He suggested doing a DVD review of something released by Criterion recently. It sounds easy, but the type of reviews I tend to do on my blog are not really the type of reviews that can go into a weekly paper, one that is particularly known for it's Austin film/art/culture coverage.

So all of the sudden I had three projects, all of which required research and two of which required watching hours of movies (not a bad thing by any stretch) before being able to embark on the actual projects. On top of that my house is #3 on the EAST studio tour because my very talented house mates (Michael Schliefke, painter and Nathan Black, photographer) are displaying their work. So our house had to be cleaned, reorganized and ready to accept a host of visitors over the weekend. So while I am sitting in my room doing my research and writing my presentations, the other half of my house has a whole crap load of strangers walking through it. AND I had to do my regular job on top of that. Heh.

As it turns out I kind of work well under pressure. So here's how it went down. I found the Criterion edition of a 1984 Terence Stamp film called The Hit. This was Stamps first starring role since he went on sabbatical in the early 70's and Criterion had released it again in 2009. Now, I love Terence Stamp and I had not seen this movie so I thought this might be a winner. And it was. It also just so happened to be Tim Roth's (who I also love) first large film roll, at the tender age of 22 (though looking about 17). Good film, kind of an anti-gangster gangster film. More like a road trip film about gangsters and the tentative relationships they develop. Anyway, I watched it and all the DVD extras and wrote a review. Easy. Sort of.

With that out of the way I moved on to my work presentation. Topic: top five urban legends and the truth behind them. Cool topic, yes? What were the legends I chose, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. 1) The Kidney Thieves, you know the one where an unwary traveller wakes up in a motel tub filled with ice only to find that one of his kidneys is missing? It's FALSE, btw. 2) The Mothman, the man size red-eyed, white winged creature spotted in the rural areas of West Virginia in the 60's. We can't really say that this is false because the sightings DID occurr, it's just WHAT exactly they saw that is up for debate. 3) Fanta invented by the Nazi's, or alternately invented by Coca-Cola so they could continue to sell a product in Germany during the war but not seen to be supporting the Reich... also FALSE 4) High number of deaths occurring among the cast of the Poltergeist films, TRUE!!! 5) Bloody Mary, this one was a classic that me and my friends all tried during sleep overs when we were little (about 10 years old). Needless to say, this one is false.
The presentation went well, though I have to say my investment in this job is waning and will only continue as long as I don't have a better offer (and I have some promising leads, just to be clear).

Finally, and the most daunting of them all, my presentation of Norma Shearer, screen queen of MGM in the 1930's.

She's fabulous, btw, and I really enjoyed watching her films. Marie Antoinette blew me away, but Romeo and Juliet was a snoozer. The Divorcee and A Free Soul were both fantastic. And while I didn't master her accent (or non-accent as it were), after reading her biography I think I connected with her on an emotional level. I was terribly freaked out about my presentation, but then I put together an outfit and bought a fabulous hat. It's amazing what a costume will do to one's personality. Once I had it on, while I was still nervous, I knew I'd be able to pull it off, sans accent of course. And I did pretty well.

Thanks to my friend Felix for having the wherewith all to take some photos!

The amount of old jazz I've been listening to lately has also helped me get into the mindset of that era as well. I'm thinking of reinventing myself as a matter of fact. No more jeans and t-shirts, it's all prohibition era costumes for me from here on out (hahaha! yeah right). But seriously, I think I have to get a few. If for no other reason than I need an excuse to wear that hat out sometime.

Alice Shadow Coltrane Brown...

2011-11-08T09:52:00.001-08:00

I'm a little upset right now. I've discovered that my cat, Alice, has been cheating on me with a family down the street. In fact the homeowner, Julie, brought Alice over last night saying she's been bogarting all her cat's food (she didn't actually say bogarting, but that's essentially what it boiled down to). I didn't bother to ask why she kept her cat's food outside.

Alice just came to my front door, and I know she's been down the street, that little adulteress, because her breath smells like wet cat food.

And now she just wants to come in and lay on my comfy bed and groom herself. Can you believe that shit?

Peter Murphy, a legend...

2011-11-05T22:19:00.000-07:00

If, somehow, someway, Peter Murphy had declined at all in my mind as one of the finest performers I have ever seen, his position was reclaimed tonight. He will remain for all time one of the best live shows I have ever seen, followed closely by Siouxsie Sioux (very closely).

I don't know how he does it either. It's not just charisma, it's not just charm, it's not just his voice (dear me, his voice, as if that wasn't enough). Somehow the combination of these things, along with the beauty and honesty of his music, penetrates deep into my heart as if reaching in to take it out and show me just how miraculous it is that I am alive and experiencing, well, anything at all. His shows are emotional roller coasters. Joy, nostalgia, sorrow, loss, happiness, peace, exhilaration, exaltation, desperation... and that moment of remembering the moment that just slipped away. It's almost too difficult to keep up. And the eroticism... oh. dear. god. Every movement he made on that stage oozed sexuality. Although to be honest it's the eyes that kill me. He looks at you like he knows what you're thinking, and he likes it. Fuck.

I'm not sure if my favorite part of the show was when he spit rose petals at the audience, or when he played Ziggy Stardust in his encore!

Either way, I'm hoping he finds his way into my dreams tonight.

Cuts You Up:

I find you in the morning... after dreams of distant signs
You pour yourself over me like the sun through the blinds
You lift me up and get me out
Keep me walking but never shout
"Hold the secret close", I hear you say

You know the way it throws about.
It takes you in and spits you out
It spits you out when you desire
to conquer it, to feel you're higher
To follow it you must be clean,
with mistakes that you do mean
Move the heart, switch the pace
Look for what seems out of place

Yeah on and on it goes, calling like a distant wind
Through the zero hour we'll walk... cut the thick and break the thin
No sound to break, no moment clear
when all the doubts are crystal clear
Crashing hard into the secret wind

It's okay... it goes this way
The line is thin, it twists away
Cuts you up, It throws about
Keep me walking, but never shout.

To the crowd
To the world
You were so dry
And with the token bird I made
Send it to fly right to your side
With the broken wing you sailed
Oh like winter in July
A barren river wide
I'll pray for the flood
To wash on you
It's here I'll be with you

Well if the birds can reach the sky
To this land I'll be with you
'Til the sun bursts from your side
With my hands I reach to you
When you think your chance is passing by
When you blow your moon away
I'll bleed like the reed
Fall with your knife
It's here I'll be with you

MOVIES!!!

2011-11-02T12:13:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine told me that while he thought the performances in The Rum Diary were excellent, and totally made the movie worth seeing, overall he thought the movie was kind of boring. I actually heard that from two people, both of them film critics.

These days I tend to go into most films sans any expectations. Expectations, more than anything, seem to be what ruin movies for me (and for most other people as well). So that being said I have to admit I really REALLY liked The Rum Diary. It is slow, which may be why some people said it was kind of boring. But it's also not about what the trailers make it to be about (if the trailer makes it out to be anything at all, that is). It's not about some hedonistic Puerto Rican acid-trip, man. It's about a writer trying to find his voice. And on another level it's about a man trying to find himself. And he does, by proving to himself that he's not like these others... these opportunistic crooks masquerading as legitimate businessmen. He will not be bought, though there is some question that maybe he is considering it at the beginning. And there is a journey, fraught with ethical quandaries and punctuated by a descent into an LSD-induced hallucination. If Fear & Loathing was the end of this story, The Rum Diary is the beginning. Just as the beginning of your adult life is nothing like the end, these two films are nothing like each other, so don't go in expecting it to be.

I also recently saw Take Shelter, which had a premier at Fantastic Fest in September but somehow I missed it then.

It got rave reviews at the festival and they were right. It's great. Another slow movie, it starts out like a family drama. A husband, his wife and their deaf daughter deal with their life, their mortgage, and the struggles of getting their life taken care of. And pretty soon the husband is having visions of apocalyptic storms. It doesn't help that his mother was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when she was his age. So the question becomes "is he going insane?" He starts to build a storm shelter in the backyard without talking to anyone about why. And that's where I'm going to leave it. I can't say anything else without spoilers. Some people apparently didn't like the ending. I thought it was perfect. On top of the very cool story, the performances were captivating (Michael Shannon of "My Son My Son" and "Boardwalk Empire" is amazing, as is Jessica Chastain of "The Debt" and "Tree of Life") and the cinematography breathtaking. It's currently playing at The Alamo Drafthouse S. Lamar location. GO SEE IT!

Finally, I've been going back into the old days of Hollywood to learn about an actress I previously knew nothing about, Norma Shearer.

Man she is gorgeous! I've never had much of an interest in early talky films. Mostly because the sound quality is so bad that it grates on my nerves. But I'm getting over it. The Divorcee and A Free Soul (with a young and incredibly HOT Clark Gable) really are fantastic. I imagine if I had been born in the early 1900's I would have ended up a lot like the characters she played (at least in the pre-code films). A strong, independent, sexually liberated, free spirited woman who didn't take crap from anyone and did just as she pleased. Gotta love it.

Halloween Decompression...

2011-11-02T11:50:00.000-07:00

Halloween is over and the months and months of work that was put in to the reunion show paid off. It couldn't have gone any better in my opinion. And we have a whole new set of photos that our awesomeness now emanates from (mostly on Facebook, but soon it will be ALL of the web!!!).

Our official photos have yet to be released, but here is a preview...

I feel like the madam of the strangest harem ever in this photo...

The Vixin in action during "Booze Party"

Hypnotic stares brought to you by Ruby and Vixin...

The Trouble Squad... Lucky, Sindee, Vixin

I would like to note that this show was my first foray into fake hair. Oh man is it glorious, if a bit of a pain in the ass!

After the reunion at the ND and the Halloween show at Bull McCabes I feel a decompression is badly needed. Jumping back into normal life, that of work and research and writing, as great as it is, feels a bit like jumping into Barton Springs on a 112 degree day. It hurts for a bit then feels pretty good. But I got so used to spending quality time with my fellow cheerleaders that I'm not quite ready to give that up yet. These girls are part of my soul, without them I am a little bit less.

Cheerleader Reunion at last...

2011-10-27T15:11:00.000-07:00

Friday October 28, 2011 marks the official Satan's Cheerleaders reunion show. Reunion with the band, THE FLAMETRICK SUBS, and reunion with each other on stage with our very particular kind of mischief.

I can't tell you how much I miss that stage and how much I miss being a performer. This is one of the best things I've ever done and it has made me so much more than I ever was before. We may be campy and we may be tongue in cheek but we are deadly serious about it!

If you want to see what a pep-rally in hell might look like, this is it.
Tickets are HERE or at the door.
Only $10 and your soul *wink*

And now a few pics from the bad old days...
(and yes, I only have one look, it's called "Blue Steel")

retraction of previous statement...

2011-10-18T09:58:00.000-07:00

Crap, well okay, I lied in my last post. I didn't realize that Richard Kadrey's new novel, Aloha From Hell, came out today. Will be purchasing at Book People within the hour. I suspect I will have finished reading it no later than Friday.

Difficult reading...

2011-10-17T22:58:00.000-07:00

Some books are difficult to read. Difficult in that they make you feel uncomfortable, sometimes even desperate to get away from what you are reading. Other books are difficult in other ways, maybe they are so dense in information that they feel heavy and your hands simply don't have the strength to hold them up anymore. Or maybe they are written in a way that simply bores you and your eyelids rebel by simply closing themselves off against it. Others are simply beyond comprehension. I read a book like that once, I'm talking of fiction here, not books about, say, modern fiscal policy or advanced quantum physics. It was absurd. Possibly absurdist, though it was a long time ago, I'll have to take another look to see if the person I am now can make some sense out of it.

There is only one book I ever started reading and didn't finish, A Brief History of Time. Not fiction, so my record of never not finishing a book of fiction remains untarnished, even in those cases where I really really don't want to. Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian was like that. A beautifully written book that described some of the most horrific scenes in explicit detail. So much so that my stomach churned and I often had to put the book aside for several days after reading a single chapter. It was that book I was thinking of when writing "desperate to get away from". But my pride kept me going. I'm glad I finished it, though I felt miserable the entire time.

I felt something similar, granted to a much lesser degree, with Nick Cave's The Death of Bunny Munro. He wasn't describing anything truly horrific, but the so called protagonist was such a reprehensible human being. It's difficult to enjoy reading about someone that keeps ruining everything around them.

I just finished Jose Saramago's Blindness. I felt the same amount of cognitive dissonance with this novel as I did with Blood Meridian, and it took me quite awhile to finish the book because it just made me so fucking depressed. Partially because what he said rang true. If the world all the sudden suffered from an epidemic of blindness it's pretty likely a lot of these things would really happen. Desperate people, miserable people, opportunistic people... they would easily outnumber those guided by altruism. Fear is a powerful motivator. I can't rightly say that I myself wouldn't resort to some of these things if I was scared and starving, though I like to think I wouldn't. And the picture he paints, from this omniscient narrator's perspective that can peer into the minds of every character in the novel, is so real. I found myself putting the book down earlier today in order to change clothes and leave the house and I left all the blinds to my bedroom windows open without realizing it because it seemed to me that everyone in the world was blind and couldn't see into my house.

This book was also difficult to read on another level. He doesn't separate the dialogue in the traditional way, that is with quotation marks and the like. Everything said is separated by commas in these ginormous run on sentences (for the record, "ginormous" is a word fully recognized by my spellchecker). Full conversations take up several pages without even a paragraph indentation. It's an excellent stylistic tool that can really draw you in once you get used to it, but it can get tedious, especially when it's late and you start to get tired.

The next novel on my list, The Pillars of the Earth, comes in at over 950 pages. It makes me tired just looking at it, though I've been assured it's very compelling. But it's going to have to wait. I currently have checked out from the library (yes, I've rediscovered the joys of the public library system) the biographies of Jelly Roll Morton, Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington, along with the a book on the development of early Jazz music. I'm in research mode likely until the beginning of next year. It's a reading list with an excellent soundtrack, btw. How often does that happen?

Back to real life...

2011-10-01T14:32:00.000-07:00

Well Fantastic Fest is finally over and I had to return to real life yesterday. Sort of. I slept only about 5 hours after the closing night party and then had to get up Friday morning to drive some people to the airport. So from 8-5 I was driving around in the heat and traffic. Then I had to pull a closing manager shift at the Ritz, which meant I was there from 6pm - 3am. YUCK!

Today, however, was golden. I slept late, I saw Tucker and Dale vs Evil (excellent, btw) and then had some Japanese filmmakers over to my house to interview me about an alien encounter I had (not real, btw, just faked for their mockumentary).

In case you haven't seen it, here'e the Tucker and Dale trailer:

So, last night I finally slept and today I start my detox for a week (maybe longer). No alcohol, no meat, no bread... mostly raw food and brown rice with possibly a few cooked veggies and yogurt in there for good measure. And I start yoga again tomorrow. YES!

During the festival I gave myself permission to party, and since I was working a lot and eating mostly Alamo food (delicious but not all that great for you) I essentially wrecked my body. And I had a GREAT time, even when I was working. I met lots of excellent people and saw quite a few great movies. And I was inspired, which for me was the most important part. It's a reminder to me of what I want to do and how attainable it really is. So during this week of detox I am also rededicating myself, consciously, to my craft.

Here are a few short reviews of the films I saw, the ones not already discussed anyway:
First, Sennentuntschi:

Great thriller from Switzerland about a mysterious woman coming into a mountain village and the strange circumstances surrounding her. A Sennentuntschi is from an old folk tale concerning three men living alone in the mountains who make a doll out of a broomstick and straw and magically bring it to life in the form of a woman, who of course they force themselves upon sexually. She gets her revenge by killing all three of them brutally.

Next, You Said What? (or in Norwegian, "Help, We're In The Film Industry")

Couldn't find a trailer but the gist is this... it's the premise of Takashi Miike's "Audition" but done as a romantic comedy. A group of guys hold fake movie auditions so they can find a girl for their friend (whose previous girlfriend cheated on him). So they find the perfect girl and in a moment of weakness he offers her the part. The only problem is that they don't actually have a movie. So they have to make one. And they get Peter Stormare to be in it! It was ridiculous and awesome and I laughed almost the entire way. And the director told me that it was okay for us to download it if it doesn't get US distribution rights:-)

Another one from Norway that was also excellent, Headhunters.

A great thriller/espionage film, I was engrossed the entire time. I was also thinking "what the hell do I know that actor from?". Turns out one of the guys plays Jamie Lannister in HBO's Game of Thrones. I hope this one makes it over here but I can see this going the way of Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and getting a totally unnecessary American remake (though to be fair I don't really mind foreign language films getting remade all that much... It's not like making a British film into an American film ala Death At A Funeral... ugh).

Finally, my least favorite of the bunch but all in all not too bad, The Day

*SPOILERS*

So here's the deal with this movie, imo... It's basically The Road for the Twilight crowd. I am not the target audience for this movie, but there definitely is one. My friend Richard loved it... another friend of mine hated it... a common phenomenon for all the films at the festival I noticed.

I have two issues with this movie... first, the tribes of cannibals are not all that believable. They are too pretty and not nearly crazy enough. Sorry, if you have resorted to cannibalism then you are off your rocker, period. You are not charming, you don't negotiate. Secondly, the dialogue was sophomoric. There were just too many things said and not shown. For example, when the two girls go hunting in the woods there is a discussion about how they are a family, but it was just so forced and obvious. I'd rather see the emotional connection than just be told that there is one. So it lacked subtlety. There were many examples of this. But the cinematography was really good and the acting was fine. Sadly the most interesting character, played by the mysteriously sexy Dominic Monaghan, died early on. I remember this happening in Alien Resurrection, when the captain was the first to die... he was the most interesting character of that entire bunch!!! COME ON! Sorry Joss, but that's just how I feel about it.

In retrospect this years Fantastic Fest was a completely different experience than last years. In some ways it will never measure up. But in others it was much better. I have some opportunities opening up because of it, and like I said before, the inspiration I have gotten has been greatly needed.

Fantastic Fest - Bullhead (Belgium)

2011-09-27T10:43:00.000-07:00

If I haven't explicitly said, though I think I have, it should be obvious to readers of this blog how emotionally involved I get when I watch some films. For me that's kind of the point. Not all films are told from an emotional perspective, and that's fine, I like those films too (sometimes). But being open and allowing myself to be effected by the story being told is what drives my love of film. Melancholia hypnotized the other day. The most recent film I saw shattered me.

The trailer does not do the film justice at all. It comes across as some kind of mafia crime thriller, and it does have those elements. But those elements are the setting in which the bigger story takes place... the story that is only hinted at in the trailer. It's about Jacky, a man who is completely trapped by his circumstances (the actor is AMAZING, btw). He's someone that might have turned out to be a good man in the end had this one thing not happened to him. But on the other hand, if this thing hadn't happened to him he might have turned out to be just like everyone else around him, and those people aren't that great. The fact is, this thing happened and he is who he is and he cannot escape it. The choices he makes because of it are excruciating but it makes sense that he makes them.

In case any of my readers decide to watch this (and you really really should) I don't want to give anything away. I don't want you to miss out on the ride, as it were. I was in quite a state at the end of the movie. Tears that came without any warning at all and couldn't be stopped (at least not as soon as I would have liked). I couldn't stick around for the Q&A with the writer/director afterwards, I was already late for cheer practice (more on this later), but I did hug him and tell him how much I loved it (through my sniffles) as I was leaving the theater. Hopefully I'll run into him today and get to ask him the questions I want to ask him. He does owe me a drink after all and is one of the coolest people I've met at the festival (everyone is pretty cool so that is saying something).

This film is Belgium's submission to the Oscars. Needless to say, I hope it gets nominated. It's also Michael's first film. I'm in awe. And maybe someday soon I'll be friends with an Oscar nominee. How cool would that be?

Melancholia...

2011-09-24T15:11:00.000-07:00

The emotional state that I'm in can only be considered one of mild shock. There is a a very distinct threshold between the dark cinema and the real world just outside. Re-entering the world after watching Lars Von Trier's Melancholia was a bit like coming out of a sensory deprivation tank (not that I've been in one of those, mind you... but, you know, Fringe is like my favorite show).

This movie really penetrated me. As someone who has experience with depression (and this movie deals heavily with Kirsten Dunst's character's struggle with that) I found myself swept away with her performance. At one point she takes a bite of her favorite food and is overcome with sorrow because it "tastes like ash". It would be difficult to come up with a more apt phrase to describe what the world looks, feels and tastes like when you are in the midst of manic episode. (I don't want to give the impression that this movie is about depression... it's not... there is a really good reason she feels this way and it's not revealed until much later in the film... patience is a virtue when it comes to Von Trier's films, apparently).

As I walked out of the theater I felt as if I was being carried along by an ocean current, totally unaware of where I was going and helpless to change course. Sometimes a film so disorients me that it takes some time to shake it off. Right now I feel a bit like my emotional bubble is being eaten away by all the chatter I'm currently surrounded by. At some point I will have to interact with people again, sooner than I'd like probably. The festival environment isn't the kind of place where you can revel in a vulnerable emotional state. And I'm finding it difficult to continue to process exactly what this film did to me. But it was beautiful and sorrowful and I love it when movies make me feel something.

This is what I wanted but didn't get when I saw Tree of Life. Lars Von Trier - 1, Terrence Malick - 0

now that I've slept...

2011-09-06T14:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, now that I've had proper sleep I'm ready to give a proper review of the book I finished at 4am last night...

The year is 2044 and the energy crisis has driven the population from the suburbs (because no one can afford the gas) and into poverty stricken shanty towns comprised of "stacks" of mobile homes near the urban centers. Most people spend the majority of their time in the OASIS, a FREE virtual reality world that originated as a massive multiplayer online game but evolved into an entire virtual society. The designer of OASIS dies at the beginning of the book and in his video will (that is sent to all OASIS players) he reveals he has hidden 3 secret keys that unlock three gates in the game. The first person to unlock all three gates and find the hidden easter egg will inherit his $250 Billion fortune and control of his company. Needless to say everyone freaks out and starts looking for these keys (including an evil corporation that of course wants control of the company so they can monetize OASIS and flood it with advertising). It just so happens that the OASIS game designer grew up in the 1980's and was obsessed with 80's pop culture, so all the clues to finding the keys and the gates have to do with 80's video games, movies, music, cartoons, TV shows and comic books. But for years no one finds anything and eventually the fervor dies down for the most part, except for the few die hards that are super super into it. One of these guys, an 18 year old high school student who lives in the stacks, finally figures out the first clue and gets the first key. And this is when things get really interesting.

So there's the premise. Pretty good, no? Now, I'm not, and never have been, a gamer. My geekiness tends towards movies, sci-fi novels and comic books. And there is A LOT of gamer stuff in here. In fact the entire quest for the easter egg is essentially an action adventure video game. But if you have EVER played a game on the ATARI or Nintendo, or any of the game systems since (I stopped at the NES, but ATARI pretty much ruled until I was ten or so) then you'll get it. Don't worry. You don't have to be a gamer to enjoy this book. Anything that needs explaining is explained, but not overly so. It all serves the story and I never once felt the author was getting indulgent about his setting explanations.

For me the three most appreciated references (and there are tons of them, probably more than I was even aware of) were the Firefly class space ship, the Voight-Kompff machine, and the BeBop. These were the ones that made me laugh out loud, make a fist in the air and pull it back with my elbow while shouting "YES!" (there has to be a name for this gesture, it's too universal to not have one, so if anyone knows please enlighten me).

Another thing I really appreciated about this book was the reverence it paid to the idea of open source (not that you have to be aware of this in order to get what the book is trying to say at all, you don't). Sure it may have simplified the concepts a little (necessary since that wasn't really what the book was about) but I think it honored the spirit of it and I love that. The protagonist and his friends are essentially protecting access to OASIS for everyone. The access is free and the OASIS creator still amassed a fortune, proving that not everything has to be about profit and the bottom line. Allowing corporate control of the OASIS would be tantamount to shutting out anyone that couldn't afford it, and because of what the OASIS had evolved into and come to mean, well it would essentially be like a fascist take over of a previously free and democratic section of society.

Okay, sorry. I'll stop now.

I was reading this book at Rio Rita Saturday afternoon when I ran into my friend Louisa. When I showed it to her she was like "oh yeah, you know I went to UT grad school with him..." all non-chalant talking about being buddies with his wife. I was like, "um, you think you could introduce me, cuz I gotta pick his brain now.... pretty please!?!?"

It's Austin, I'm sure I'll run into him sometime. That's just how it works 'round these parts.

Ready Player Sleep...

2011-09-06T02:20:00.000-07:00

Sleep beckons, but before I drift off...

Three days ago I watched an interview on Boing Boing with Ernest Cline - Austin resident, screenwriter (Fanboys) and recently published novelist. The interview was about his new novel, Ready Player One.

Two days ago I picked up (a signed copy no less) at Book People. It is now 4:23am and I just finished reading it. So let's see, finished the entire thing in a day and a half??? I would like to stress that I didn't leave work until after 2am last night, came home to read until 4am, went back to work at 11am, left work at 3pm and have pretty much not stopped reading since then (except for a short jaunt over to the East Side ShowRoom for a drink with recently transplanted Seattleite, Ryan). Oh, and I've been sick for 5 days, this cough just won't give up. Argh!

So yeah, this novel is some serious fun.

Thanks Ernie. I needed that.

oh, love....

2011-08-15T21:30:00.000-07:00

What is it about a good love story that makes me so sentimental?

This evening I found myself hypnotized by an impossible romance perpetrated by Jane Austen. This isn't the first time she's done this to me, not by a long shot. This time it was with Jane Eyre. Perhaps the hypnosis was intensified by the presence of Michael Fassbender on the screen. Perhaps.

At the end of the film, which was bitter sweet but all the better for it, I opened my Facebook to see the announcement that some dear friends of mine are having a baby. I had a vision of them together, so joyfully in love those two are. I cannot remember a time when I did not see genuine smiles on their faces. And the vision brought tears to my eyes. These are the kinds of tears I don't mind shedding. Love like that always seems to make me cry. I'm such a sucker some times.

Film noir and absurdities

2011-08-07T10:04:00.000-07:00

BRICK...

This movie came out in 2005 and garnered a plethora of attention and awards. It's one of those movies I was keen to see at the time, never got around to, then forgot about. But I recently started reading Raymond Chandler and Dasheill Hammett, which I really quite enjoy. And since Brick is essentially a modern day hard-boiled detective story set in a rich suburban California high school, it naturally surfaced again as I was looking for new films to watch.

First off I have to say that this movie was surprisingly good considering what it did. It basically took all the typical characters from an old hard-boiled detective story and made all the characters high school students. And not in a spoof type way either, which I'll be honest, threw me off at first. I wouldn't say the movie takes itself seriously, but the players certainly do. They are completely honest about what they are doing, which I think is what made it work. And there are moments of absurdity in it as well. For instance the moment when Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character says to his friend in the most gravely serious tone he can muster, "Get a message to Emily that I need to see her. She knows where I eat lunch." Yeah, hilarious! Or the scene where the heroin dealer king pin (played by Lucas Haas no less) has a meeting with Levitt's character at his mother's kitchen table as his mother is in the background making them snacks.

The whole thing left me feeling a little uncertain of how to feel afterwards. It was hard for me to get beyond the absurdity of the premise, but when the shit goes down at the end, well, that's when I finally fell for it. So even though it was a bit of an emotional chore to watch the beginning, it being all discombobulating and all, it was worth it in the end.

The Singing Detective (1986)

Keeping with the hard-boiled theme, I've been watching the BBC mini series from 1986, The Singing Detective, starring Michael Gambon. It also has several minor characters that also go on to star in Harry Potter, which is hardly surprising since England only has about ten actors and they all star in every production made over there:-)

Gambon's character is Philip Marlowe, unfortunately named by his mother after the famous noir detective in Chandler's stories and as such found it tragically ironic that he ended up being a detective story novelist himself. The film takes place in three different settings... the present, while he is in a convalescent ward at a hospital with a debilitating skin disease... his past childhood and all the little moments that made him the rather unbalanced individual he ended up being... and the fictional world in his head as he is working out the plot to a story that of course stars him as both a detective and crooner for a 1940's ballroom band.

In keeping with the way the BBC seemed to do things back in the 80s, it's very slow paced. Almost painfully slow. And very very dark. It's difficult to watch more than one episode within a few days of each other it's that depressing. But it's brilliantly conceived and Gambon's performance is amazing. I understand Robert Downy Jr did an American version of it but I have yet to see it.

What I find most remarkable about this mini-series is how autobiographical it is about the writer, Dennis Potter. I knew nothing about Dennis Potter before watching this but the DVD has a short documentary about him. Essentially Gambon's character IS Dennis Potter, right down to the skin disease and the extremely unhealthy attitude about women and sex. It's unnerving while watching the series to know that a real man went through these things. It's painful and honest and I have a real respect for writing like that.

Oh, and did I mention the very strange musical numbers? Yeah, it has some of those.

The Extra Man

First off, I have to say I loved this movie! My friend recommended it to me yesterday and after watching it I was surprised that I hadn't heard anything about it before. I mean Kevin Kline and John C Reilly? Yes! Of course I'm going to love this movie!

Kevin Kline is what they call An Extra Man. He escorts elderly wealthy New York socialites to social events. And he's an ass that thinks he's a gentleman. Paul Dano plays a young aspiring writer with a curiosity about cross dressing. The two make an interesting pair as they both come to terms with their inner struggles. The movie is absurd and charming and I nearly fell on the floor laughing as soon as John C Reilly started talking. This movie is a gem and it reminded me of how many ridiculous, painful, and often counterintuitive ways we people try to deal with our inner conflicts before finding what finally works for ourselves.

Alien movie summer!

2011-08-02T21:24:00.000-07:00

****WARNING****There be spoilers ahead, kind of.

I love alien movies. As far as sci-fi genres go it's pretty high up on my list of likes. So needless to say I've been having a pretty good movie summer... Super 8, Attack The Block, & Cowboys and Aliens.

Attack The Block is by far the superior movie of the list...

I almost don't want to talk about this movie for fear of cheapening the experience for others. And nothing I can say will do it justice but I'll give it a go.

First I want to clarify that a block in England is not the same as a block in the States. It is not an entire street and all the homes/businesses on it. A block is a "block of flats" that is a government subsidized housing project. They call it a block and it looks like a block. I did not know this going into the film.

So there are a bunch of thug kids that live in this block and the first thing you see them do is mug a lady, who turns out to be a nurse (could you make a more sympathetic character, geez). Right as this is happening a meteor falls out of the sky and into the car right next to them. The nurse gets away but the meteor, which turns out to be a crash landed alien, attacks the kids while trying to get away. The kids chase it and kill it and then take it to their weed dealers flat for safe keeping thinking they can get rich when they take it to the media. And then the trouble begins. And I'm gonna stop there. The last I'll say is that it's easy to get people on the side of a bunch of kids in small town america that have big dreams and bad parents (Super 8), it's much more difficult to get people on the side of a bunch of thug kids that mug a nurse first thing... but that's what ends up happening. So many films I've seen recently have protagonists that just don't earn it in the end but these kids really really do.

Next up, Super 8.... was really good if predictable...

Is it just me or does the main kid in the poster look EXACTLY like Elliot from ET?

And finally... Cowboys and Aliens was eh but at least I was entertained...

I feel like it kind of missed the mark a few times... Let me see if I can list all the things that I felt were unremarkable about this film.

First, the formula stood out... particularly when it came to "allies, tests and enemies" (the part in the hero's journey where you come across challenges and/or make friends that will help you on your way to the central ordeal). They just kept popping up, one after the other, with no real purpose except to fulfill that role.

Secondly, the characters were a little flat. You knew what to expect out of all of them all the time. This one is gonna learn his lesson, this one is gonna step up and be a man, this one is gonna help the protagonist but get killed, etc.

Also, as much as I love Olivia Wilde (and I do love her), the character just wasn't mysterious. I don't think that was particularly her fault though. I felt like there was so much story left out and the filmmaker's attempt to make her seem mysterious just fizzled.

Thirdly, there was really no subtext to the film. I guess there doesn't always have to be but I tend to enjoy movies more when the story is not the same as the plot.

So, this guy wakes up with no memory and a metal gauntlet on his arm. He makes his way to the closest town where one rich man controls pretty much everything and has a spoiled brat of a son that gets away with all kinds of childish behavior and all the townspeople hate him. Amnesia guy stands up to this kid and gains the respect of the townspeople. Later that night aliens attack and kidnap some of said townspeople, including the rich man's son. So now the rich man and the amnesia guy have to work together to save them, and also the amnesia guy wants revenge for the death the woman he loved (who he can kinda remember but not really). At some point in act one Amnesia guy gets arrested under suspicion of a number of things including the murder of this woman, which doesn't even make sense in the larger scheme of the movie, but I digress.

And that's pretty much it. Relationships are formed, people learn things about themselves, and sacrifices are made. But there just isn't much under the surface. What I'd really like to know is more about the mysterious woman... I mean I know she gives an explanation as to her origins (which was lazy story telling, imo), but WHY??? Why is she there??? How did she meet amnesia guy??? We don't know her purpose, ever! She's just there, mysteriously. Errrr!

Okay, my last little gripe is that this movie has kind of already been done and way WAY better... Only this time it was the Viking era instead of the old American west. It was called Outlander and starred Jim Caviezel, John Hurt and Ron Perlman...

I realize this is a slightly more B-grade film and the effects are not as spectacular but the subtext that there can be a uniting force between even the bitterest of enemies and that all humans can rise above what they think they are capable of can't be denied. It contrasts greatly with the attempted subtext in C&A in that the conflict between the people was contrived and therefor not really all that important or difficult to overcome.

A series of events...

2011-07-22T19:25:00.000-07:00

It's always interesting to see how a day ends up playing out based on events that happen early on...

This morning I was on my way to my allergist appointment (where I found out I was allergic to, among other things, tumbleweeds... yes sir, I was raised in west Texas). Since I was on my scooter I used a route that took me right by my old apartments where my ex, Steven, still lives. I don't always go that route but I did today. Since it was after 11am I assumed he'd be at work but lo and behold there he was pulling out of the apartment parking lot just as I drove past. We pulled over and while chatting he asked if I was going to The Scoot Inn tonight for Oriah's birthday. I said I didn't know that was happening tonight since they had a thing for him last night too. But it's a good thing he said something, and here's why...

At home later that evening I decided to install a curtain rod that has literally been sitting here in my room since I moved in (a year ago). In order to do this I needed a couple of screws and an power drill. I threw on some flip flops and went outside to look for said items in the backyard shed. Shortly after that Nathan, my housemate, left the house to go to his girlfriend's for the night. We even had a short conversation as he walked past me in the shed, so it's not like he didn't know I was in there. No more than three minutes later, having acquired the necessary tools, I try to get back into the house but the freakin' door is LOCKED. And of course, so is the front door, because I tend to keep the door to my room from the outside locked, even when I'm just there on the inside. So I'm locked outside of the house with no keys, no phone, and no memory of Nathan's cell number.

My neighbor, unfortunately, is NOT home. She would have had Nathan's number. But oh yeah, everyone in my inner circle is going to be at The Scoot Inn tonight and that just happens to be only about six blocks away. Thank gawd I'm wearing my flip flops and didn't go out barefoot like I do sometimes. So after cursing Nathan's name a few times I head over to The Scoot. Keep in mind the sun is still up somewhat and it's, like, 95 degrees out still. Yay.

Well, no one from my inner circle is there for Oriah's party yet, but as luck would have it, my good friend Adam decided to go have a few beers there after work (it's worth noting that he has been back in Austin from a five week road trip for only three days). He doesn't have Nathan's number, but he has Amy's number. And Amy has Nathan's number. Joy! Nathan is now on his way home to let me back into the house. Sadly I've kind of lost my motivation to hang the curtain rod now.

On another note, I just want to let everyone know that Nathan has had to come by my work two days in a row this week (Wed AND Thurs) to borrow MY house keys because he locked HIMSELF out of the house.

Yeah. It's like that.

Chicago trip pics...

2011-07-02T14:29:00.000-07:00

I feel I have finally been to all the great cities in America. San Francisco, Seattle, New Orleans, New York City, Los Angeles, Portland, Miami, Austin... and finally, CHICAGO! Next trip is on another continent...

Millenium Park bean sculpture reflects me and my friend Will...

Modern art is so weird, but I kinda like this one...
Museum of Natural History, advertising its WHALES exhibit from New Zealand...

Seriously, this is a public library.... Chicago architecture is amazing...

Millenium Park Amphitheater...

Love and marriage, love and marriage... goes together like a horse and carriage

(seriously, all I could think about when I saw this was Married, With Children)

I like these...

and this...

Billy Goat Tavern, apparently there is an SNL skit based on this place... it's a great dive.

GIANT SLOTH! YES!

Mastodon! Or possibly Mammoth. I can't remember.

Lucy... 3.2 MILLION years old...

More human ancestors...

The wisdom of Charles Darwin...

Phobias, part 2

2011-07-02T13:55:00.000-07:00

I have another phobia, one that is completely irrational on the face of it, but looking more deeply is kind of understandable.

Zombies.

Like ghosts, I know they do not exist. And yet, they kind of do, though not in any literal sense.

Let me preface this by saying I've never been a big fan of the horror genre. It may be because I didn't get exposed to the right ones as a youngster. Mostly I thought they were pretty stupid, but some of them did genuinely scare me, which is likely why I simply decided not to watch them. I mean, just looking at the cover art on some of these films at the video store was enough to give me nightmares. I still to this day have never seen Night of the Living Dead. As a side note there are two exceptions within the genre… Vampires and Monsters. I was always pretty much totally down with those movies. It was ghosts, zombies and killer dolls I mostly had problems with.

Anyway, fast forward… It's interesting that I have the group of friends that I do. Most of my closest bestest friends are massive horror movie nerds. The performance group I belonged to for my entire twenties, The Satan's Cheerleaders, owes its creation to two of said horror geeks. Needless to say we bonded over different things. So it's all the more bizarre that I didn't become aware of my zombie phobia until around 2004. I guess I had so successfully stayed away from anything to do with them that it didn't manifest until then. Although maybe I should have suspected something was up when my roommate's collection of dead things caused me to decide that her house was too creepy to live in (love you Trixi!).

So what happened in 2004? My long time boyfriend and I finally split up and I started spending time with my real friends again. About fifteen of them were going to see the new Dawn of the Dead in the theater and they invited me to go along. I figured I was an adult now and no longer had the impressionable mindset of a child, so sure, why not? All my friends were doing it, right? Fucking hell.

That movie is fucking scary. This was before I understood the subtleties of slow vs fast zombies. I wasn't into the genre, hadn't seen really ANY of the old school zombie flicks, and so had no context for the film. It was just fucking scary. Within a few days of seeing this my roommate rented 28 Days Later, also fucking scary (and actually pretty good as films go I thought, though not technically a "zombie" flick). This combo turned out to be a really really bad idea. My ex had just moved out, leaving me to sleep alone in a very large bedroom (that coincidentally had no door on the closet, see previous post). At night I would lay awake hallucinating sounds (shuffling and moaning) outside of my bedroom door (that lead to the backyard) and window. I ended up sleeping on the living room couch with the television on for about two months. It helped that my roommate had also broken up with his girlfriend at the time and we ended up bonding over our shared insomnia and The Cartoon Network's Adult Swim.

And that's what started it. For a few years after this I would periodically have zombie nightmares and wake up sweating in the middle of the night, my heart pounding loud and hard. I flatly refused to watch any zombie films at all. Finally I was on tour with the Cheerleaders and we had rented an SUV that had a DVD player in it. They had brought Shaun of the Dead with them. For days I refused to watch it until they convinced me it was a comedy and it wouldn't scare me. So I gave in. And I loved it. It was the first step in my therapy to zombie phobia recovery. I still won't watch zombie movies at night or in a theater. I'll watch them during the day though. The next one was Dead Snow, the norwegian film about the Nazi zombies guarding treasure in the mountains where some unwitting snow boarders stumble across and wake them. It's hilarious. In both movies the zombies are well done. Scary even. But the situations are comical and so, for me, watchable. It's helped significantly that I've been able to watch these films. I even made a tiny little zombie short film of my own. It's 90 seconds long and really was made as a favor to a friend of mine who wanted to use it as her entry into Miss Horrorfest 2007. But it did force me to wrangle a bunch of my friends dressed as zombies and drinking lots of beer into semi-believable action scenarios, that I also choreographed, btw. And I had to edit it all too. So yeah, demystifying indeed.

Anyway, it got me to thinking, where, exactly, did this phobia come from? What is it about zombies, specifically, that really gets to me?

And it's exactly the metaphor that George Romero intended when he made the films in the first place. Zombies are us without morality or consciousness. They are controlled by base impulses, unguided by any human feeling or connection. In essence they are the mob, which is actually what I am most afraid of. What happens to people when they just blindly follow… they are capable of all kinds of atrocities. I see zombies every day and work really hard to not become one of them.

So that's that. I still don't care for horror films in general, especially this new wave of what is essentially torture porn. I'll stick with monsters, aliens, vampires, werewolves, sci-fi, action, mystery, and psychological thrillers thank you very much. There is plenty of that good stuff out there that I don't have to resort to catching up on the zombie lexicon in order to have my movie nerd cred established.

Phobias, part 1

2011-06-29T10:57:00.000-07:00

When I was a child I believed in all manner of scary supernatural things. Even as I grew up and eventually stopped believing in them, the anxiety some of those things inspired persisted. For example, when I was about four years old I was able to watch parts of Poltergeist. I believe my sister Jen was babysitting me and my best friend down the street and somehow thought it to be not such a big deal to let us see this stuff at such a young age (either that or we watched it without her permission or knowledge, I was four, I don't really remember the situation). Anyway, two things remained with me for a very long time after watching that incredibly scary film.

First, the clown doll attacking from under the bed. That probably solidified my dislike of most dolls, especially of the clown variety, and caused me to have to jump to my bed from a minimum distance of about three feet if it was night and the lights were out. I did this until my early twenties, when I started putting my mattress on the floor, eliminating the under the bed space altogether. Many years later with a proper bed again I forced myself to walk calmly to the bed and get in like an adult even though my eyes still wanted to wander to the floor and my heart started to race.

Second, the portal in the closet thing. It wasn't until I was in my mid twenties that I could sleep with the closet door open and not be freaked out by it. Even today if a room is dark and the closet door closed, if the light is on in the closet it is eerily reminiscent of the light coming through the door seams in Poltergeist. I pretty much always have to turn off the closet light because it reminds me of that and makes me uneasy.

I feel that these two things were instrumental in the nyctophobia (fear of the dark) that I developed as a kid. When I was home alone at night as an adolescent and teenager I would make sure ALL the lights in the house were on, just in case I had to walk past any of the rooms at some point in the evening. This included the closet lights in my parents bedroom and the lights in the basement. When I would hear the garage door open I would run and put some of the lights out so as not to be chastised for wasting energy, but most of the room lights I would leave on.

Mostly what I was afraid of, which I never admitted to my parents I don't think, was that I would see a ghost if the room was dark. I often looked into dark rooms, my curiosity stronger than my fear, and then quickly turned the lights on when nothing appeared, reasoning that the more time went by the more likely it would be for said ghost to appear. So yes, I believed in ghosts as a child. This belief was not helped by the Monday night family viewings of Unsolved Mysteries or my family religion's belief in the afterlife. Even as an adult when I intellectually knew that ghosts and spirits were very unlikely to exist I still convinced myself of the possibility. I even tried to psychically talk to them for a time, thinking that if I made friends with them I'd be less freaked out. Needless to say it didn't really work that way.

In my mid twenties my phobia got really out of hand and I decided to seek out psychological help for it. It was shortly after I saw an apparition of my maternal grandfather standing at the foot of my bed looking benevolently at me for several seconds and I experienced a paralyzing anxiety lasting several hours afterwards that put me over the edge. I knew it was all in my mind, that it wasn't actually a ghost at the foot of my bed, but instead some kind of hallucination that manifested in a image I interpreted as a youngish version of my Grandpa Joe (who died when I was only a few months old). But knowing that didn't make the anxiety and insomnia go away. I finally got sick of the stupidity of it all, knew I had to get on with living my life and found a psychologist who ended up helping me a great deal.

There are still instances when deep dark spaces creep me out, but I like to think of that as an evolutionary adaptation of the species. Stay out of dark spaces because there could be critters down there that want to eat you. Wait till the sun comes up, it's much safer. I feel similarly about my fear of heights (more appropriately a fear of falling from heights). An evolutionary adaptation that tells your brain that if you jump or fall from this height you will probably die. Okay, evolution does know best sometimes.

How Frank Oz made me who I am today...

2011-06-23T14:02:00.001-07:00

A few months ago my theater held a screening of a new 35mm print of Frank Oz and Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal. I don't know how many times I saw that movie as a child but it was a high number I assure you. I loved that movie when I was a kid.

I was maybe about eleven or twelve years old before I finally retired that old VHS and moved on to what I thought of as more age appropriate things like The Goonies (man I wanted to go on a treasure finding adventure so bad!), and after that The Breakfast Club (which inspired me to play the misunderstood rebellious teenager all throughout high school and beyond). So fast forward to twenty years later as I am sitting in the theater reemerging myself into the magical world of Jen and Kira, the gelfling protagonists of the story, as they struggle to restore balance to their ravaged land, and I am struck with just how much this film has affected my worldview into adulthood.

The idea that there is a balance, not just between the dark and light sides of the natural world but within each and every individual is one of the ideas at the heart of everything I believe in. I say "light and dark" instead of good and evil because as an adult I have a hard time with the loaded meaning of those words. Those words reduce the complex into the very very simple and ignore the subtleties of cause and effect over infinite time. But that topic is far too broad and is not really the point of this post, so I'll move on.

Beyond the basic idea of balance is that when a world is thrown out of balance, no matter how, whose responsibility is it to bring it back into balance? How is it done and what are the consequences of failing?

I notice that many of the movies I watched when I was young, including this one, and many of the movies I love today even, are very David and Goliath or Robin Hood type stories. The little guy standing up in the face a powerful elite. The Rebels vs the Empire, the Fellowship vs Mordor, the Gelflings vs the Skeksis, etc.

But it's not just on an "us vs them" level either. It's both the macrocosm and the microcosm. These very same conflicts are at play within my very own heart, not just out in the world at large. I often wonder if I really would choose the path of "righteousness" if my situation was reversed... e.g. what if I was one of the skeksis instead of a gefling? What exactly is it that makes me so afraid of dying that I destroy everything in the quest for immortality? Substitute "dying" and "immortality" with anything you like... in my view it is generally an intense fear of something that causes otherwise rational people to ignore their exploitation of the weak and vulnerable.

And yet I still find it difficult to answer this question. I suppose it would depend on such a complex series of factors that it's simply unrealistic to take who I am now, with all the experiences I have gleaned in my life on this earth, and simply transplant that personality into another situation. I, as I am, would never exist in that situation. I would not not be who I am, I would be an entirely different I.

Don't Believe Everything That You Think...

2011-06-15T13:48:00.000-07:00

I just saw that on a bumper sticker today and had to chuckle... I'm not the sort of person who likes to communicate or be communicated to via bumper sticker, but I like this one. All manner of disaster can befall a person who believes too much of what is in their own minds... our minds tell us all kinds of crazy things... that we are better or worse than those around us, that we deserve more or less than others, that we are gods, that we are worthless, that they are all looking at me Me ME, and not only that but they should be!

What a load of crap.

My mind tells me all manner of things that are both true and untrue, unfortunately which is which isn't always so easy to discern right away. I finally decided to stop listening to it all the time, or at least attaching any specific value to what it says.

I saw a movie today that the film community as all atwitter about... The Tree of Life.

It was "eh" I guess. I neither liked nor disliked it. I did think it was beautiful, I'll give it that. The underwater and outer space images on their own captivated me. Those parts were all very Carl Sagan "pale blue dot" type scenes.

I felt kind of the same way when I first saw 2001: A Space Odyssey. It could be that films heavy in symbolism and light in narrative are simply disorienting at first. It does feel like the kind of film that you have to let just wash over you. It reminded me of watching Enter The Void (and not just because it feels like neither film will ever ever end). It was like the foil of Gaspar Noe's film. Instead of aspiring to the deepest darkest depths and depravity it aspired to the highest notions of the superconscious. It's not about the base things that bind us to the earth or the confusion that throws us destructively into each others paths. It's about a more transcendent idea that we are all connected through the universal experience of coming from and going to the same place and that our struggle though this life is more similar than disparate.

I don't really like judging films. My tastes, or everyone's tastes for that matter, are so utterly subjective that deeming a film "good" or "bad" really just becomes a way for people to tell you about themselves and what they think. It seems to me that one can often tell what a person thinks of him/herself by how they discuss the films they like or don't like.

Getting back to my original point, it doesn't matter what I think about this movie. Whether I liked it or not, or what merits I think it does or doesn't have. Anything I think about it will probably change should I see it again, or even if I don't see it again. The thoughts I have about it are just thoughts. And it's just a movie, not the second coming or anything.... geez.

A sad day

2011-06-04T21:32:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how coherent the following will be since I have had only about 2 hours sleep in a 36 hour period. I'll try to at least spell everything correctly.

Around 4am Tuesday May 31st 2011, my 20 year old niece Kelsey fell through a hole in the roof of an old grain elevator in Amarillo, Tx. The nearly eighty foot fall killed her.

This place, The Garvey Grain Elevator, was not a place me or my friends went to when I lived here but apparently it's a popular destination for Amarillo's youth to party these last few years. I can easily imagine me and my friends having done the same if we knew about it and had access back then. Any one of us could have fallen through that hole.

I got the call from my mother around 7:30am on Tuesday. As soon as I saw who it was from and what time it was I immediately knew something was wrong and hoped desperately that it wasn't one of my parents that had something happen to them. The relief I felt when hearing my mom's voice lasted only the brief moment it took for her to tell me that Kelsey had died.

My friend from work lent me his car to drive to Amarillo since I couldn't afford the last minute flight. I finished my ten hour shift at work around 12:30 am saturday morning, swapped my scooter for his car, packed a bag, and got on the road around 3am. I arrived in Amarillo around 11am, sat around the kitchen table with my siblings for an hour catching up, and then went to the service at the Catholic church my family has been attending since the beginning of our time here. The service didn't move me. There was a lot of talk about Kelsey being with God in heaven and all that, some recitation of scripture that was next to gibberish, and a short sermon from the priest. And that was that. It was weird. Maybe it's because I don't believe in pretty much anything that the priest had to say and therefor couldn't relate to it. Or maybe it was the lack of anything personal at all in the sermon. It was all about Kelsey being a child of god, but nothing about who she actually was as a person. I thought at least being with everyone as they remembered her and hearing family members talk about her would be cathartic. But no one got up to say anything. I hadn't expected that.

Afterwards there were hugs and food and stories and some tears, but also laughter and love and that grateful feeling that we have when we all get to be together.

After everyone left I got in the car and drove to the coffee shop I used to hang out at. I wanted a cup of tea, some isolation, and a chance to read in peace. The coffee shop was no longer there. I drove around for a time, passing old haunts that have both changed and not changed in the fifteen years since I last lived here. It's amazing how little attachment I have to these places anymore. It's like everything that happened to me here happened to someone else entirely.

I drove past my high school, walked around my old neighborhood, remembered the feeling of being here, of being a child and how easy it was. And then of being a teenager and how difficult it was. Remembering that I always wished there was more here for me and that I wasn't the only one to feel that way and then remembering all the things we did to alleviate the boredom this town heaped on us. I imagined Kelsey feeling this way, and so many of the youth here feeling that way. No outlets in a town like this for people like us. Which is why we did drugs, drank underage, trespassed in dangerous places, had sex before we were ready, and lashed out in anger without really understanding why.

I was worried about my sister's family. My younger niece just turned seventeen. Kelsey was her best friend. But I'm not worried now. There is too much love in her life for me to worry about her. She will be okay.

As much as I wanted to be here to support my family, it turns out that what I wanted more than that was the security of knowing that everyone is going to be okay. And they are.

It's far past time for me to go to sleep. I'm spending the day with my family tomorrow and heading back to Austin first thing Monday morning. I'm looking forward to my audio books and driving through the wind farms near San Angelo again, though this time it won't be as the sun is rising. That was truly beautiful.

Thanksgiving 2009, San Antonio... Cassandra and Kelsey.

Goodbye Kelsey, you are missed and will live on in every one of us.

cube living, karaoke and the rolling stones

2011-05-23T21:32:00.000-07:00

I try not to let my blog consist mostly of me complaining about all the negative shit in my life, but sometimes it has to happen.
Disclaimer: I am well aware that all of this stuff is all in my head. However, since I am stuck with my head, and my head only, pretty much all the time it makes it kind of difficult to get away from it (my head, that is).

I have allowed my life in these last few weeks to exist in two little boxes with a route in between. My bedroom and my job, with occasional jaunts to dance class and Ron Deutch's house for Doctor Who on Sundays. It's amazing how small the world gets when you don't go exploring. And a small world is not good for the creative impulse. There is a conflict going on in my brain that tells me I need to stay home and get some work done, but when I stay home I find a million and three distractions to keep me away from getting work done. When I have no ideas I beat myself up because I have no ideas, as if they should be in constant supply or else I'm an imaginationless hack. When I do have ideas, quite often when it is inconvenient for me to explore them, I don't honor them by exploring them later. I let them sit on a rack and rot until I forget them or convince myself it wasn't a good idea to begin with.

And when I feel this way I find it very difficult to leave the comfort of my house. Is this how agoraphobia begins? I wonder.

So today, against all the voices in my head giving me reasons not to, I taped an audition for an indie film and sent it in. I am so unbelievably self-conscious but I think I made some headway against that though the fear of really going for it is still there. I think it's better than I've done before but still not good. But at least I did it.

I also submitted myself for drag-karaoke on June 9th at the 29th St Ballroom. It's a benefit for my friend Jason Austin and I'm going to be performing The Rolling Stone's Sympathy for the Devil, in drag (that means I'll be dressed as a man). I have an act forming in my head already. It'll be the first time on stage for me since the cheerleader's last show in 2007, and my first time on stage solo since I don't know when. I'm excited and freaked out but I think it will be really really good for me. And it's all for Jason, which helps. It inspires me to make it outrageous, at least outrageous for me. Outrageous with style.

Lyrics to Sympathy for the Devil (abbreviated):

Please allow me to introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
Ive been around for a long, long year
Stole many a mans soul and faith

And I was round when jesus christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game

I stuck around st. petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain

I rode a tank
Held a generals rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah

I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made

I shouted out,
Who killed the Kennedys?
When after all
It was you and me

Let me please introduce myself
Im a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reached bombay

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby

Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me lucifer
Cause Im in need of some restraint

So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, um yeah

South Korea gets it right again...

2011-05-22T23:40:00.000-07:00

Apparently when it comes to gangster films and no holds barred revenge, South Korea knows what the fuck is up.

The story itself is really nothing we haven't seen before but somehow it's made fresh. This writer/director, Jeong-beom Lee, has obviously seen a lot of John Woo films. A mash up of Leon: The Professional, Oldboy, and A Bitter Sweet Life (and possibly Hard Boiled)... the man from nowhere finds himself caught up in a web of trouble caused by his train wreck of a neighbor, the stripper/heroin addict mother of So-Mi. So-mi befriends him, of course, so when the mother and daughter are kidnapped by a gang of drug dealers who also trade in black market organs he has to pursue them. The final combat scene is bar none the best I have seen in years, even compared to the hallway hammer scene in Oldboy. It's beautiful.

And it's not too long, something a lot of movies suffer from these days. The writer was extremely economical with the dialogue, saying only what needed to be said, and the action sequences got to the point. I hate it when action sequences prattle on and on.

One final thought, it is quite possible that they found two of the hottest Korean actors on the planet to star in this film...
The star: Bin Won
and then the other guy who speaks perfect english and is the bad ass on the bad guys team... unfortunately he is not listed in IMDB or Wikipedia.

All of life should be a game of scrabble

2011-05-04T19:58:00.001-07:00

Okay, first things first. I did not make it into the top 20 on the Neil Gaiman contest thingy. I am not bitter about it (no really, I'm NOT).

Okay, next. Sometimes art imitates life and the other way around, no? Does the same hold true for technology? Is technology not a form of art if you really think about it (Apple certainly thinks so, in case you hadn't noticed)... I ask only because I all of the sudden see the "sync in progress" message on my iPhone as some sort of personal communication with the universe. Sync in this sense being short for synchronicity. How is it that after so many years of making bad decisions that all of the sudden I seem to be making all the right ones? Weird.

Also, what does it say about me that now when I read a book and come across an interesting 4-5 letter word that I automatically store it away in my brain to use in my Words With Friends games? Improving my vocabulary has all of the sudden become a matter of how many points I'm going to get in online scrabble instead of an issue of edification of the mind.

(Read the above sentences one more time and let it sink in just how awkward that phrasing really is... I thought about retyping it to read more elegantly but decided against it as awkward phrasing seems to be the order of the day for me today).

Neil Gaiman contest

2011-04-25T08:21:00.000-07:00

So I've entered myself into the Neil Gaiman American Gods audio book contest. If I win I get flown to NYC, get to meet Gaiman himself, and read a passage of the book for the audio book. Gaiman is one of my all time favorite authors and American Gods is one of my favorite books so this would be a dream come true for me.

Click on the widget below to go vote for me! You can vote once a day (though you do have to register with the site, my apologies).

Don't forget to listen to my audio sample. I was trying to make it sound grave and I think I succeeded. I'm currently not in the top 20 (Gaiman evaluates the top 20 vote getters and chooses the winner himself).

Tiny Dirty Panthers

2011-04-16T13:55:00.000-07:00

Alice Shadow Coltrane Brown slinks up the walkway from the street, her paws and hunched shoulder blades moving in a harmony only ever seen in cats and women with long legs that know how to move their hips. Her usually shiny black coat is embedded with the fresh dry dirt that she has no doubt just joyfully rolled herself in. She is the tiniest, dirtiest panther in the world. Her prey is the single patch of sunshine that has managed to penetrate the spring canopy onto the sidewalk. I sit watching her from an antique weather beaten chair, one that used to sit proudly in someone's living room but now lives out its days on the covered patio of my post-war peer-and-beam house in East Austin as dust and dead leaves encroach upon its receding autonomy.

It's a perfect spring day and I am all alone this afternoon reading The Death Of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave, a gnarling twisted tale about an alcoholic sex addict in England whose dead wife haunts him while he peddles his wares door to door in a beat up yellow Punto with his nine-year old son in tow. The main character is barely human, his behaviors despicable, and every time I sit down and read it I worry about the son and how he is not yet damaged by all of this but will be very very soon. The story ties my gut up in knots while reading it and lingers in a patina of melancholy for about an hour afterwards. I finished the book today, thankfully, and am still not sure if I liked it or not. I liked the writing, I always like Nick Cave's writing. He has a way of showing the disgusting, the erotic, the miserable and the possibility of redemption all within a few short yet brutal sentences. And somehow he was able to move seamlessly from the father's POV to the son's and back again. Very skillful indeed.

There is only so much of Cave's macabre desperation a person can take in one sitting, however. I'm grateful to my tiny dirty pet panther for the distraction of unbridled cuteness and affection I get from her while immersed in sessions of seriousness. I find that the best days are ones that are spent in both fantasy and reality in equal measures. Too much of one and not enough of the other leaves me unbalanced, as if weighted down on one side of my body, usually the left side for some reason. And on days like that I often have that feeling that I've forgotten something, but for the life of me I can't think of what.

Recap

2011-04-10T12:36:00.001-07:00

There are three things I love most about taking vacation. First, the food. I had quite possibly the best Thai food outside of Thailand that I have ever had at a place called PokPok in Portland. They specialize in Thai street food. The Papaya salad, coconut rice, boar's neck and Thai style chicken wings completely obliterated me. A giant thank you to my good friend Murray (one of the few people from high school I make the effort to remain in contact with).

Apparently the best cuban style pork sandwich in the world comes from a place in Seattle called Paseo. Our timing was fantastic because shortly after we arrived about twenty other people showed up in line behind us. All of which were willing to wait in the cold rain in order to get their food. Since there were approximately four tables total in the tiny hole of a place we decided to eat in the car. The sandwich was so good I was apparently making "sex" noises while eating it, according to Ryan who witnessed the event. I would beg to differ but in a way I did want to make love to that sandwich, it was that good.

Also in Seattle is a "from bean to bar" chocolate factory called Theo. It ranks possibly in the top five of my chocolate experiences. I didn't take the tour, although I would have loved to at any other time, I was just too damn tired.

I won't go so far as to say the food on the train was all that great, however, I did share a meal with a man that looked like a young and fit Vincent D'Onofrio and his two very bright and sweet children. So you know, that was fun.

Also, the pacific northwest is the land of microbrews. I couldn't tell you the names of any of the beers I tried, but they were all freakin' great!

Secondly, I love that traveling gets me out of my head and out of my routines. It forces me into a state of mind that appreciates the world on a larger scale, seeing more clearly the connections between things that I normally take for granted, feeling my place in the world more keenly. It makes me remember who I am and what I want. All throughout my trip I kept experiencing all these sublime and sometimes fortuitous moments just by letting them happen. The fact that everything was so effortless was just evidence that I was in the right place at the right time. I went where I wanted to go, saw who I wanted to see, did what I wanted to do without any obstacles getting in my way, as if Ganesha himself, the remover of obstacles, was my constant companion.

In Berkeley I went to a meditation/teaching of Anam Tubthen Rinpoche, my friend Caroline's mentor, and everything he uttered struck a chord. His teaching was on the Buddhist concept of the nature of mind. He likes calling it "luminous awareness" as it is more poetic that way:-) It was all about the things that have been occupying my thoughts significantly this last year. It was a moment of synchronicity among many such moments I had during my trip. It made me feel I was making the right choices, walking the right path, which has given me a renewed sense of confidence.

And there is a tattoo design I have been thinking about for quite some time so this seemed like the perfect time to get it. It's the "Endless Knot", one of the eight auspicious symbols in Buddhism, symbolizing the interconnectedness of all things and the intertwining of wisdom and compassion. So when I got to Seattle I made an appointment and got it done.

Finally, I love that going on vacation makes me miss my home. Coming home is often the best part of vacation. I have a renewed sense of love for Austin, for my friends, and even for my job. I was actually glad to be back at work last week.

Other highlights of my trip:

Spending time with my niece, Cecelia, and my nephew, Eric

Venice Beach and the Santa Monica pier

Indian food and vintage cocktails with Josh Lieberman

C.A.V.E Contemporary Art Gallery

The Museum of Jurassic Technology

Inspiration Point in Berkeley

Retro-Vegetarian food with Caroline and Karma

Golden Gate Park

Ocean Beach

TURBO DAN!!!

Losing an engine on my train to Berkeley and winding through the foggy Scottish-like foothills at a snails pace

Sakura season!

Japanese Garden in Portland

Stumptown Coffee

Seattle Erotic Arts Festival featuring the sublimely sexy Miss Roxie Moxie and her Devil Does Burlesque costume (sorry, no pics)
Experience Music Project and The Science-Fiction Museum (particularly the Battlestar Galactica exhibit)

Cap Hill, EMP and BSG

2011-04-02T15:37:00.000-07:00

Me and Roxie Moxie at a bar in Cap Hill

My sentiments exactly...
EMP (Experience Music Project)
ROBOT!
Guitar sculpture at EMP
Battlestar Galactica exhibit (which was very very small but had some very cool displays)

The original model for the 1978 Galactica
EMP from the other side

Tourism in Seattle

2011-04-01T15:46:00.000-07:00

I'm not ashamed to be a tourist sometimes...

Seattle's Pike Place Market

The original Starbucks (I was craving a chai, sue me)
The gum wall (gross!)
Tulip season!
The old section of the market...
Uber, great Seattle bar with lots of beer!
Ryan on the roof of his and Sarah's apt building
McRory's near the train station... Apparently it is the largest selection of bourbon in the world

Venice, art, and the sublimely bizarre

2011-03-27T21:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes in life things line up without any significant effort on your part. This week things have been very much like that for me. Since coming to California I've been able to see who I want to see and do what I want to do without any major challenges. On top of that some very fortuitous things have simply happened by chance. Friday as I was walking down Main St in Santa Monica toward Venice Blvd (to catch a bus to the Museum of Jurassic Technology) I stumbled past the C.A.V.E Contemporary Art Gallery. A painting caught my eye so I backtracked a few steps and went inside. Everything on the walls was a amazing. I chatted with the gallery owner for a few and when I get home plan to order several prints, primarily from this artist named Jennifer Springman. Seriously, I fell in love with nearly everything there. Someday I hope to make enough money to buy, and maybe collect, original artwork. For now prints will have to do.

I had no idea how long it would actually take me to reach Venice Blvd (an hour, turns out). About halfway there it occurred to me that I should have taken the bus, but had I done so I never would have stumbled across that amazing gallery. I finally reach Venice Blvd and wait a few minutes for the bus, lost in my reverie of the beautiful day and all the excellent art I just saw. I was so distracted by my thoughts that when I attempted to hop in a carefree manner into the bus that I MISSED! and fell nearly on my face. Yeah, wake up to the present moment Sarah. I bruised my shin pretty bad but what is worse is that I landed on my fabulous Hollywood sunglasses and busted them beyond repair. It may have been the universes way of telling me that I need to rock the aviators because I found the perfect pair at H&M on the Promenade later that night for $6.

Now, the Museum of Jurassic Technology is quite an interesting little place. I wasn't entirely sure of what it was from looking at their website but I can definitely say it peaked my interest. Now that I've actually been there I'm still not sure I can tell you what it is, exactly, but I will most certainly be recommending it to certain friends of mine. My phone battery was almost dead so I could only take a few pics but here are the coolest ones:

A shadow box full of various dead butterflies

Floral Radiography:

A Lilly
A breed of Magnolia
A propagation horn
Not really sure what this is, but it looks cool.
Had my phone been fully charged there would be a plethora of more images, possibly including some of the placards with the descriptions of what was being displayed. Sometimes the descriptions were stranger than the actual item. Certainly adding the context only makes the experience richer.

My other favorite parts of the exhibit were the micromosaics by Henry Dalton (artwork so small it has to be viewed through a microscope), the portraits of the dogs involved in the Russian Space Program, and the decaying dice.

Even more notable than the exhibits themselves, however, was the design of the actual space. It's an eerie maze seemingly designed to disorient and immerse you in the experience. There is very little light, most of it emanating from the displays themselves, and the music seems to follow you from room to room, loud enough for you to notice but soft enough to leave you alone.

And finally this morning, having slept long and deep on a futon in a friend's room in Berkley, I participated in a guided group meditation with Anam Thumten Rinpoche. This photo was taken after he finished his teaching.

I don't follow the Tibetan Buddhist tradition in general (Zen is much closer to my thing) but ceremony aside the teachings are not so different. He talked today about the nature of mind, something I've been thinking a lot about lately, so in that sense there was a certain synchronicity in my life today. I love it when that happens.

I'll leave you with a pic of my friend Caroline and I overlooking the city of Berkley. She says in this photo we look like mother and daughter! It helps that she is six inches taller than I am, and I'm not exactly short.

Pacific Ocean Eats Man

2011-03-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

I watched a lone man around seventy years of age in a wet suit wander into the sea. The waves carrying him up and down as he swam deftly toward a flock of birds resting on the surface just a hundred feet away. I imagined him swimming forever. Into infinity. To his death or eternal life as part of the ocean. The thought made me feel peaceful as the violence of the tides is peaceful... content to exist and be what they are, doing their work forever even as each wave dies on the shore.

Meanwhile, on the Pacific coast...

2011-03-24T21:58:00.000-07:00

I had forgotten how much character Los Angeles could have.

I was told today by a Middle Eastern gentleman that my eyes look like those of some Middle Eastern or possibly Mediterranean heritage. I have never been told any such thing but the two gentleman with him were in agreement. "Nothing Middle Eastern?" he asked. "Or maybe Greek?" They didn't seem to believe me when I said I was made almost entirely of European genes with a tiny bit of Native American thrown in there somewhere. "They are beautiful," he said. I thanked him and was a little humbled because Middle Eastern women really do have beautiful eyes). I felt a little self conscious as I continued to eat my beef shawarma that was getting tahini sauce all over my hand in the process.

This afternoon I watched a man talk to an invisible entity that was apparently sitting next to him on the bus.

In Melrose I wandered past a used record shop that was just floor to ceiling, wall to wall records. Half a million plus, the owner said. He was a friendly older gentleman and there was some old trumpet jazz playing in the background. That record was on sale for $10. If I wasn't traveling and being super conscious about all the stuff I have to carry I probably would have bought it.

That did not, however, stop me from buying the most perfect pair of boots the previous night. Seriously, they are pretty much exactly what I wanted and for less than I was willing to pay. That was also in Melrose, which, incidentally, now seems to be run by the Armenian mafia. Every store I went into I was getting hustled by people I originally thought were Ukranian, but who, Danielle informed me, were in fact from Armenia. One guy dropped the price of the boots I DIDN'T want to buy to $49.99 (from $129.99). It was almost worth it just for the price, but then I would have to carry them around for the next ten days. No thanks.

I'm currently listening to the tide coming in. The Pacific is about a hundred yards from my door right now, though it's too chilly and drizzly to actually go walking on the beach. I'm content just to hear it. A sound I haven't heard in far far too long.

Last night I spent with my cousin, Danielle. She took me to a Shabu Shabu place on Hollywood Blvd. It was amazing! Our plan was to hit the Low End Theory night at The Airliner, but apparently ever since Thom York played there a few weeks ago the secrets been out and now everyone wants to go there. The line was fifty deep with a one-in-one-out policy. Danielle's friend Oscar, who writes a popular Los Angeles music blog and usually has some pull to get into clubs in that situation couldn't even get in. So we decided to split from Pasedena and hit a tiki themed punk/hipster bar called Cha Cha's where the PBR is $4 a pint but the jukebox plays nothing but good tunes.

Vacating the ATX

2011-03-21T23:06:00.000-07:00

I wanted to write something about the aftermath of SXSW, the how's and why's of what exactly happened in Marc Savlov's shower that night, and how my mental state of being really is quite something.

But I am going on vacation tomorrow.

My itinerary is as follows:
Plane ride to San Diego
Train to LA
Train to Berkley
Train to Portland
Train to Seattle
Plane back to Austin

What exactly happens in each city and how long I'm staying in each place, well, that's only on a need to know basis.

Peace out.

SXSW 2011

2011-03-15T16:50:00.000-07:00

I have very mixed feelings about SXSW. I used to love it, or at least that one year I volunteered through school and did sound engineering stuff for that DJ Shadow show and had a platinum badge and could get into anything I wanted for free.
Then I hated it because I couldn't get into anything without paying exorbitant amounts of cash, waiting in line for hours, and in general being stuck dealing with a lot of sucky out-of-towners that took over downtown.
Then I didn't care either which way because I just avoided that part of the city and didn't want to participate anyway.
Then there was that one year we played a few shows with the Flametricks, got free wristbands, and I met The Priests, who were awesome and very good looking (and extremely fun to flirt with).

Now I work downtown at one of the film venues and have aspirations of being one of the people who has a film in the festival. I make a lot of money from these people, which I like, and mostly they are all very nice and appreciative of the employees at my work. I party with some of them and get to serve drinks to some of my favorite celebrities. And I still hate watching people schmooze and network and lie to each other about how amazing their films are. Probably because I am just a little envious of people that are getting exposure for their work. They've already gotten the money to make their movies, and now people are actually watching them. It's an interesting process. At least to me, sitting on the outside.

A few of the plusses from this year so far:
Meeting Edgar Wright, director of Hot Fuzz, Shaun of the Dead and Scott Pilgrim vs The World (also co-creator and director of Spaced, the best thing that ever happened to television EVER!)

Serving drinks to Nick Frost and Simon Pegg, stars of Spaced, Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead... they premiered their new movie Paul at the festival.

Having a great chat with British director Simon Rumley. I was an extra in a film he shot in Austin a year and a half ago. When I told him I hadn't yet seen the film he asked for my address and said he'd send me a copy.

Drinking with British actor Tom Sawyer (yep, that's his name) and picking his brain about how it was for him starting out in the business... He's the star of Simon Rumley's film, Little Deaths, that was in the festival.

Making lots of cash tips over three days of work

Bonding with coworkers on our day off in the beautiful spring weather

I have a vacation coming up so really no matter what happens nothing is going to put me in a bad mood. Starting next Tuesday I fly into San Diego to see my sister and brother. Take a train to LA and hang out there for a few days strolling around Venice Beach and hopefully attending Low End Theory with my cousin on wed night, then on up to San Francisco to see Caroline and her new husband and have a day of Tibetan Buddhist musings. After that a sixteen hour train ride through northern California to Portland to see one of my oldest friends (one of the few people from high school that I still keep in touch with) and finally into Seattle to see Ryan & Sarah, one of the most awesome couples in the world.

Once I get back home I'll start training for a boss type position at The Ritz and saving my dollars for a motorcycle. There's a 1975 BMW R75 that I have my eye on!

clear skies, clear mind

2011-03-01T16:34:00.000-08:00

My mind reflects the sky today. Crystal clear and beautiful. I sought out inspiration and I found it in the form of a film, a workout involving jogging and boxing gloves, a scalding hot shower and delicious homemade potato soup.

My evening is unexpectedly free and I finally got to put ideas down on paper. Er, virtual paper actually. It could be the beginning of my latest story, or not. I'm not sure yet, but I suspect it has potential to be the beginning. The problem that I keep running into is mostly gaps in my knowledge about the potential future environment. I guess that is always the problem when writing future fiction. I haven't yet decided on what my limits are when it comes to just making shit up. How plausible do I really want it to be? I kinda want it to be plausible. But more importantly it has to be internally consistent. So what I keep asking myself is do I just keep writing and fill in the blanks later, or do I do my research on the front end and write from there? Currently I'm doing both simultaneously. Writing when I have a scene in mind and doing research when I don't. Often the research inspires an idea so I have to switch from one mode to the other.

I've discovered I can't write and listen to music. It's terribly distracting. However, sitting in my room with my feet up and my front door open to the street letting in the fresh air and distant sounds of the city seems to work pretty well.

I've discovered a way to use my limited space without feeling too confined. My living room is in the center of the house and has just the one window so it is pretty dark most of the time. I can write in there but I don't prefer it. My room is, well, my room and I don't want to spend all of my hours in there. However, it is in the front of the house and opens onto the front patio. I have a surprisingly comfortable fold up chair and a foot stool that store out of the way but I can set in the corner of my room with a view of the street and it actually turns my room into a sitting area of sorts. I'd love to have an office space but my lapdesk will have to do for now.

As I've been writing today I've looked up periodically to watch the colors of the sky change as the sun goes down. There is a tangled web of leafless trees that make infinite shapes out of the gradient of the horizon. A puzzle made of fractals and tetrahedrons that stretches in three dimensions. If it shattered I could never put it back together.

Here are two other pics I took while trying to get the last one that turned out kinda cool...

And finally, my oldest friend (as in years known, not age) and me on my birthday...

Getting spoiled and rocking it out...

2011-02-22T15:09:00.000-08:00

It's my birthday week. I'll be thirty-two years old in two days. I'm well past that age where getting gifts is a big deal. I'm really more interested in sharing time, a good meal, and several bottles of wine with people that are important to me. That being said I have already received two incredible gifts.

One, not only did I get to spend the entire afternoon with my friend Lorena (love you!!!), but when I found this amazing bracelet at Uncommon Objects she offered to go halfsies on it with me so I could afford it.

I'm not much of a jewelry person but sometimes you find a piece so unique and beautiful and just so suited to yourself that you have to get it.

Two, I received an extremely generous gift certificate to the Milk & Honey day spa downtown. So Thursday morning I'm going in for a message, facial and mani/pedi. My back has been so jacked for so long that Thursday is going to be like a full body reset for me. I may cry.

After that I have a hair appointment with the illustrious Sunny Webb of Orbit Salon. And then an evening of libations and karaoke at the Highball with my extremely eclectic group of friends.

And you know what else? I braved the driver's license office of the Texas DPS for nearly two and a half hours so I could take my motorcycle test. I totally passed and am now officially licensed to drive a motorcycle. Now all I need to do is get one.

On top of all that I totally rocked it at both of my dance classes last night and good thing too because I'm really sick of getting upstaged by those damn fourteen-year-old musical theater brats (I kid I kid, though they really are awesome)...

All in all this is shaping up to be an excellent birthday week. If I can carry it through to the weekend audition I have for a new feature film then I may just be able to add this week to my top five list of best weeks of being alive ever (okay, I don't really have that list but now that I mention it I think it is worth making).

cultural programming

2011-02-19T12:17:00.000-08:00

I wish when I was a teenager that I understood then what I know to be true now. That it is nearly impossible to know the mind of another person. It would have saved me an awful lot of heartache and depression. Without those things I might have come into my own much much sooner. But good things come to those who wait, or so I'm told.

When I look at my life now, one that I'm extremely happy with at the moment, I realize that I still, occasionally, view it through the lens of what I think other people might think of it. Specifically what my parents would think of it. So I guess it's a programmed cultural response to what I was raised to think was "normal". And I'd like to extend my apologies to my parental units for this, because, as I said above, it's nearly impossible to know the mind of another person. Even one you've known your whole life. So it's very likely that what they actually think and what I think they think are not even remotely the same. And like me, my parents have gone through their own cultural evolution just in my own life span. What they believed was true when I was born isn't necessarily what they believe now.

So basically when I take a step back to see the trajectory of my life from college to now, when seen through said cultural lens, I see a lot of false starts and a lot of backward slipping. In my twenties, post hard-core party years, I had a quite respectable tech job. A job that many have as a life long career. One that allows them creature comforts and the ability to support a family and take pretty cool vacations. And then I had love. A boyfriend that was (and is) amazing both as a boyfriend and as an individual. We had a very grown up living situation. We bought cookware and a high-def television together. Our apartment was small but we had plans to buy a house, have a garden, maybe children (he's going to be an awesome dad one day I suspect). And we complimented each other well in many respects. But I got restless and ended it, quit my job, and left the country to go find myself. By the time I came back I was thirty years old and only just realizing what I really wanted to do in my life. My love and I tried again but try as I might I can't fight who I am. And the "grown up" living situation, I decided, was not the one I wanted.

So here I am living in a bohemian hipster paradise in East Austin, working a not-quite-full-time service industry job where I make maybe a third of what I used to make at a Fortune 500 mega-corp, sleeping until noon every day, and taking dance and acting classes on my free evenings. I have a degree that is useless (for the most part anyway) and free time that I use to pursue an art that I may never make any money at. And I'm happier than I have ever been. What this tells me is that the cultural meme that money and success are somehow intrinsic to a higher self worth (and higher social worth) is essentially bullshit. I've known that inherently almost my whole life.

The one thing that has been holding me back is this idea that what I'm doing is only temporary. That I still have to work toward some ultimate goal of grown up success. Culturally sanctioned success. Or something. But I've recently come to terms with the idea that I may always be a free spirit. I may always want adventure. I may never want to settle down. As long as I am physically able I will likely continue to live in a similar way to the way I'm living now, with only the size and shape of the living quarters changing periodically. When I really and truly felt to my core that there was absolutely nothing at all wrong with living this way, that's when I feel like my last obstacle was torn down and the entire world opened herself up to me. I don't have to see the world in the way I was raised to see it. I can see the world however I please.

TV for the sick me

2011-02-15T23:11:00.000-08:00

I feel like I'm a pretty healthy person. I don't drink that much, I eat really well most of the time save for the few weak moments at work when I just can't pass up that damn pizza, and I work out (dance class, cross fit, cycling, boxing with my roommie, and just plain walking around my neighborhood). I'm not the kind of person that should be getting sick. So I'm wondering what exactly caused this last bout of whatever-it-is that has kept me cooped up and bed-ridden for the last three days.
Could it be the pizza and beer night last weekend for the Welch's anniversary party? Could it be the stressed out last two weeks that drove me to buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke almost half of them (seriously!!! they were Nat Shermans though, so they were good for me, right?)

I really can't say. And what does one do when cooped up in the house too sick to get out of bed for more than a glass of no-pulp orange juice and maybe a hot bath? You catch up on TV shows, that's what.

And I have to say, I really really want to like Caprica and V. They are the kind of shows that I could really get into but am going to admit that they are keeping me by a thread. A really really thin one. Caprica is actually getting better. The last few episodes finally started bringing it all together with the Cylons on Geminon with the STO. The whole monotheist thing is actually starting to work. But V just feels like sloppy story telling. It's like the bigger picture is excellent, but all the details are fucked up. I understand suspension of disbelief (man I got that shit down, for real) but there are only so many things that can reasonably happen in a situation. Just because it's sci-fi doesn't mean you can pretend that the police and the FBI don't do things that they would in fact do (or do things they wouldn't do). The writers are just making them do it to suit the story. And it's kind of insulting. It's like they run into a problem and just write around it instead of into it (because that would make the story too complicated).

I mean, I get it. You can only do so much on network television. But after watching Fringe and Battlestar Galactica I feel like there really is no excuse. Mostly I just feel like the purpose of V is getting lost. What exactly is the story here anymore? I felt the same way about Caprica but it's beginning to redeem itself, sort of. We'll see next season I guess.

On another note, a new season of Secret Diary of a Call Girl has started! YES!

Darren Aronofsky & The Fountain

2011-02-09T15:14:00.000-08:00

I hate it when people ask me what my favorite films are. Or what kind of music I like. It's like asking me if I like food. Dude, I freakin' love food, okay. I also love film, and it would really be much more productive to ask what kind of music I don't like. It would take less time to tell you.

However, it is fairly easy to discuss which film directors I'm currently enamored with. Two directors always stick out in my mind when this topic comes up, and for some time now. David Cronenberg and Darren Aronofsky. There are others, of course, but these two always seem to be the ones that hit me the hardest.

I love every film I've seen of Aronofsky's and I've seen all of them more than once, except for Requiem For A Dream. I loved that movie but it's kind of like going to the Killing Fields. I'm really glad I went there, it was emotionally profound and affected me deeply, but I only need to do it once.

It'd been a few years since I watched The Fountain last. What I remembered of it primarily was its sheen. This beautiful, highly polished film that was more like a painting that just never stopped morphing. Van Gogh's Starry Night on acid. But I couldn't remember the story so much. Something about the search for the tree of life, immortal love, death/rebirth, etc. Good themes, right? So I had to watch it again. I remembered liking it a great deal when I first saw it and I recently had a conversation with a random stranger about how all Aronofsky's films were about obsession. I thought this stranger might be right but needed confirmation. He was right.

Aronofsky's films are not just about obsession, mind you. It's more like that's the tool he uses to tell his stories. The Fountain's plot is about a doctor (played by Hugh Jackman) obsessed with finding a cure for his wife's inoperable brain tumor. But that's just the device. The story is really about their love and the possibility of love transcending space and time. The radiant Rachel Weisz plays the good doctor's wife. She's writing a book about the Spanish quest for the tree of life in the Mayan jungles of central america. The story in the book is told in the film as well with Hugh Jackman as the conquistador and Rachel Weisz as Queen Isabella.

"Find Eden and I will be your Eve," she says to the Conquistador, whose eyes are cast downward. And so began his descent into madness. The quest for immortality.

And there is a third story line in which Hugh Jackman, presumably as the same doctor from the original story line, is floating through space in a bubble that contains the fabled tree of life that grew up over his wife's grave. It is believed by him that his wife lives on in the tree. He has found the secret to immortality and lived long enough to take the tree into a nebula so that they can both be reborn together (in case you are unaware, nebulas are where stars are born). The nebula, Xibalba, is also the name of the Mayan underworld.

It seems to me that this film is the most symbolic of all his films and can be interpreted in many ways. This is just how I see it.

This is also quite possibly Hugh Jackman's greatest performance. Say what you will about Wolverine, but the man's got skills.

To me this film seemed to expand into me as I watched it (no small feat considering the small size of the screen I watched it on). The dark browns and golds floated around in my mind like little orbs containing the secrets of the universe. If I watch it again maybe they will be revealed. But maybe I already know them. At least the important ones.

To elaborate on previous post

2011-02-08T20:58:00.000-08:00

Interestingly enough the subject of vulnerability came up several times today. What I was feeling earlier this afternoon was decidedly NOT vulnerability. It was not the opening up of myself and my heart to another. It was a complete downward spiral of self-indulgence in my own pain and pity because I couldn't stop thinking about how everything affects me me me. Self doubt and self pity creep up at the most inopportune times, always when I'm trying to get something else done. It creeps in to destroy my spirit so that I'll stay perpetually suspended in the "almost ready" position. It is not there to help you get past something. It is there to hold you prisoner so that you cannot transcend.

A wise friend once told me that vulnerability is my greatest strength, and I'm sure he meant that it is any person's greatest strength. To be so strong as to open yourself up and let another person see who you really are even though it scares the shit out of you... yeah, the fear is still there. That part doesn't go away. Maybe it wanes a little once you start to see the benefits, but it's there always. Closing your heart off is not a sign of strength, and it prevents you from making true and lasting connections with the people you are meant to connect with (i.e. those people in life that bring something of value be it love, creativity, compassion, truth, etc). This is one of those things that makes us uniquely human, transcending our ancient animal nature.

This was reaffirmed today by Van Brooks, my acting coach, who can always be relied upon to pull me up out of my self indulgence or down out of the clouds with a healthy REALITY CHECK (I won't tell you what it was but it was a doozy). Without vulnerability you have nowhere to go. It all starts there. You have to trust even though you know you may get lied to or hurt. But the hurt will never really be as much or as bad as your brain tells you it will be.

That's all I wanted to say.

Paging Dr Shephard

2011-02-08T12:31:00.000-08:00

More than a few people have made the observation that I'm a very guarded person. Emotionally unavailable. Closed off. I've never really personally considered this to be true about myself until recently. I don't wear vulnerability easily. It's like the day-glo end of the color spectrum... I don't like how it looks on me.
But at what cost?

Maybe I should start thinking about it another way. There is no reward without risk. Maybe vulnerability is more like a deep scarlet. Worn for the right occasion it can be quite fetching. A bold statement made without fear.

Sometimes I think I'm like that damn island in Lost. Disappearing and reappearing unexpectedly. Nearly impossible to access and really doing a psychological number on those few to whom she does allow access. Containing a multitude of secrets that aren't nearly as interesting once they've been revealed and driving people crazy while they try to figure them out. What does it all mean?
The answer: nothing, actually

Apparently we all have our karmic path. This one is mine.

If I'm feeling abandoned, and I am, it's probably of my own doing.

the visit...

2011-01-30T13:22:00.000-08:00

Eighty degrees in January
a good day to reconnect with a love let go
he hugs me and I want it to last forever

a conversation on the patio
twists and turns from topic to topic
easily, like it always is with us

we are both being set upon by vivid dreams
we are both setting out alone
we are both hoping to do something,
anything, beautiful

It's such a perfect day...

2011-01-30T12:12:00.000-08:00

I decided to try an experiment today...

Listening to Lou Reed while reading Charles Bukowski and NOT drinking whiskey at the same time.

So far the universe hasn't imploded. I know it's dangerous to take others lives into my hands in such an irresponsible way, but everything turned out okay, right? So far anyway.

The Novels of Richard Kadrey

2011-01-28T10:42:00.000-08:00

All I have to say is HELL YES!

Okay, that's not really all I have to say, but that is really all that needs to be said.

The first in the series, Sandman Slim, is a tale of a rough and tumble sort of man with supernatural abilities. Magic. His little magic group betrayed him and called forth some demons to send him to Hell because the group's fearless elader was jealous of his powers and more than a little ambitious. The novel starts eleven years later when this guy, who becomes known as Sandman Slim, has finally escaped from Hell and is looking for some revenge. Not just for the sending him to Hell part (as if that wasn't enough), but for the murder of the love of his life that was left behind. Along the way he discovers some very interesting things about what's been happening while he's gone and makes some curious friends along the way. And oh yeah, he saves the world. Sort of. Mostly he reeks havok all over LA and pisses off a bunch of holier than thou angels.

The next book, Kill The Dead, picks up six months later. Sandman Slim is a freelance monster hunter, contracting himself out to a Homeland Security detail that's run by one of the head honcho's (aka: God) angels here on earth. But she has ambition beyond her station. Then Lucifer comes to earth needing a bodyguard while he gets an autobiographical film of his life made in Hollywood (big surprise, Lucifer owns the studio exec's soul). All the while a conspiracy is brewing with some of the more powerful magical families in LA and a hoard of the undead start making their way from underneath the city (where they've dwelled for thousands of years) into the streets causing a massive outbreak of zombieism. And Sandman Slim is right in the middle of it all. And then there's the girl. A Czech porn star/gypsie/zombie hunter. Really, could this novel have more things going for it?

The first one, I've heard, has already been optioned for a film. I can see it playing out already. Mickey Rourke as Sandman Slim. Seriously. He's so perfect. But it's always tricky casting for Lucifer. So far Peter Stormare has been my all time fave (in Constantine). For this one though, I'm thinking Mark Strong. If only the studio guys would start returning my phone calls. I'd make them so much money!
But I digress.

Anyway, I'm putting these books up near the top of my favorites list, right next to Neil Gaiman. Richard Kadrey is a worthy contemporary. And that's probably the best compliment I could give anyone. Because Neil Gaiman is the king. In fact, I think I'll rearrange my book shelves so that Kadrey is right in between Gaiman and Raymond Chandler. Because his books are like the offspring those two would have if they ever hooked up over a bottle of expensive red wine and a plate of Texas BBQ.

One last thing, just check out how bad ass the author pic is from the book jacket. I so want to meet this guy:

So simple and yet...

2011-01-25T21:46:00.000-08:00

Excellent advice from a book I've been reading called The War Of Art...

Our job in this lifetime is not to shape ourselves into some ideal we imagine we ought to be, but to find out who we already are and become it.

Steven Pressler... nice one.

The Saga of the Silver Scooter

2011-01-25T14:59:00.000-08:00

Well, after months and months of nervous waiting it has finally happened.
I got my scooter back... FIXED!!!

I've been without it for about seven months or so. This is what happened...

I bought a used 2002 Aprilia Scarabeo 50 in January of 2010 from the Ducati dealership in north Austin. I had done some research on scooters and knew Aprilia had an excellent reputation for motorcycles. I probably should have reached out to my friends in the scooter community to get more information but I assumed that they mostly would try to steer me to buy vintage and I decided I wasn't quite ready for the commitment of learning how to work on a scooter just yet. I just needed a cheap, reliable way to get where I needed to go (also, a fun way, but that's besides the point).

So for the first six months everything was fine. But the damn central Texas heat did her worst and the fuel line dried out and cracked. This was partially my fault because when I took it in for a tune up the guy mentioned the line was a bit dry and I should replace it soon. He did say "soon" and not "now" otherwise I would have done it right then.
Two weeks later I'm leaving The Highball around 1am and I notice the foot board is covered in an oily substance. "Gee, I wonder what that could be from," I wonder and then start the scooter up and head home. A few blocks away my engine dies. It occurs to me that the oily substance might actually be oil from the engine. "I'm only a few blocks from home. Surely I can make it THAT far," I think. I start the bike up and head East on Riverside from Congress (I didn't know at the time that this was the very LAST thing I should have done... live and learn, right?). Almost at the top of the hill my engine goes out again. It just stops. I'm coasting. The back wheel doesn't seize or anything like that. But I can't get it started again.
I walk the scooter home. That was fun, lemme tell ya.

The next day I contact the dealership. I explain what happened and they say they can't really determine what the issue is until I bring it in, and oh yeah, $80/hour diagnostic fee. So a week or two passes before I can actually get the time to get my scooter up there (my housemate Nathan totally rocks for letting me use his truck several times throughout this saga). A few days later I get a call that the engine has seized and definitely needs a top side rebuild. Minimum $400. But they are not sure if the crank case is damaged, which sometimes happens in a seize. That will be at least another hour labor to take it apart and find out. If the crank case needs replacing the whole thing will be upwards of $800.

Now I only paid $1000 for the scooter. Or to be more precise, my boyfriend at the time, Steven, paid $1000 for it. And I just made payments every month to his American Express. So by this time I had paid about $500.
I have the dealership halt work so I can consult my scooter friends. My friend Bruce, who had been working on scooters professionally for a few years, said he'd take a look at it for me just to see. And he knew a guy in San Antonio that worked for a parts distributer so at the very least if a rebuild was necessary we might be able to get the parts for cost.
So, another week or two pass before I can get up to the dealership to pick up the scooter. I get it to Bruce's house and drop it off. Now, I know when friends tell you they will do work for you that you just have to deal with their schedule, which I was more than happy to do considering he was doing me a favor and could potentially save me lots of money.

And the months go by. By chance, sometime in October I think, I run into an old friend, Brian, I haven't seen or talked to in several years, and oh yeah, he's a scooter expert. I relay the saga to him and he immediately tells me he's unemployed at the moment and would be totally happy to take a look at the scooter. He knows Bruce and contacts him and they chat about the problem. Bruce hasn't specifically had any experience with a scooter as new as mine since he mostly worked on vintage stuff, so we decide to let Brian have a crack at it.

Well, in a few days I get a call from Brian saying he was able to get it started and ride it around the block. Which means the engine has NOT seized after all. Basically what he is saying is that Ducati Austin never actually took apart the bike to see what was wrong with it at all, they just assumed, based on my story, that a seize is what happened. And they charged me $85 to tell me that. Nice.

Based on the behavior of the bike, the fact that he could ride it but that it consistently cut out over and over, he determined that it was either the fuel pump, fuel injection, or the CPU (yeah, my scooter has a computer chip in it... the more complicated a thing the more likely something will go wrong with it). The only way to find out was to replace the parts. Start with the most likely, the fuel pump.

So I ordered a fuel pump, about $200. Not bad considering what I thought I was going to have to spend. By the time I get the part it is Thanksgiving. I get the part to Brian but it's the holidays. I don't really expect much to happen. And then his dog gets sick (he's okay now, in case you are wondering). So he had to take his dog in for surgery to get rid of kidney stones (ouch!). Then he had a bunch of job interviews. By this time I've been riding my bicycle exclusively for so long that I'm used to it. I barely even think about the scooter anymore. But out of the blue, one day, I get a text from Brian saying that I should call him.

So I do. He installed the fuel pump and everything seems to be working smoothly!!! But he wants to take it into AF1 Racing just to consult with another scooter friend and make sure. They check the CPU while there and find something interesting. The bike is actually restricted, through the chip, to not go as fast as the engine is actually capable of. Now its only a 50cc bike but the engine is capable of going around 45mph. Right now I top out at around 30mph. But other than that everything is fine.
He brings my scooter back to me and it runs just like it used to.

It turns out that this particular model of bike is known to have issues with the fuel lines, fuel pump and the CPU. I didn't do enough research to know that because I didn't know how to research those kinds of things. From the few things I found online about this scooter it seemed like a good one. But now I know. I've learned a great many things about being a scooter owner in the last year.

In the meantime Brian's looking into how to derestrict it. We may also take the fuel injector off and replace it with a carburetor which should increase its performance. Every day I get on it thought I'm paranoid it's going to fail. Hopefully that fear will go away soon. I'm just so happy to be mechanically mobile once more. My sphere of easy travel just got much much bigger. No more asking for rides, no more keeping to other people's schedules. Freedom is mine again.

Brian is totally my savior on this. I owe him one.

End Foundation...

2011-01-24T15:15:00.000-08:00

I've finished The Foundation series by Isaac Asimov. Seven books spanning 550 years written between 1951 and 1993.
I decided to read them in the order they were written as opposed to the chronological order of the story (in which the author ultimately intended them to be read). In fact the first two books (Prelude and Forward) were the last two to be written. They were my least favorite of the series but still good. They essentially chronicled the life of Hari Seldon during his development of "Psychohistory" which is the science on which The Foundation was founded (a science that, in the world of the novels, saved a civilization of 25 million planets and trillions of humans, from complete destruction).

So it's scope is massive. And yet a surprisingly quick read. Most of the novels were originally published as a series of short stories in various Science-Fiction pulp magazines, intended for an audience much less familiar with the fictionalized ideas of space travel, holographic transmissions, and artificial intelligence. So for a 21st century audience the series might seem a little... unsophisticated. But taking into account the time in which is was written, for whom, and the influence it has had on pretty much all modern science-fiction I have to say it really is worth the time.

I'll probably read the much less extensive Robot Series at some point, which was well integrated into the Foundation series near the end. Yes, I know Will Smith starred in a film adaptation of I,Robot... but I will not let that deter me!

For now, however, I have a new book of short stories compiled and edited by Neil Gaiman and the follow up novel to Richard Kadrey's Sandman Slim called Kill The Dead. And I think maybe about 700 more pages of JG Ballard's collected stories that I haven't even attempted yet.

Breakthroughs...

2011-01-22T13:46:00.000-08:00

I think I have finally made a breakthrough.

You know when you grow up and you have these patterns you've developed over time... either to cope with things you can't change or because they are habits that have worked well for you in the past?
When I started writing I realized I had an obsession with chronology. Probably not an uncommon thing for people, since our perception of time and development of memory is so delicately intertwined. I mean, we experience life chronologically, yes? (I realize that the question of time and perception is a complicated one but for our purposes we'll go with the non-quantum explaination). Couple this with the fact that I studied music for the entirety of my formative years, and when did we ever NOT start at the beginning of a piece of music? When do you not start at the beginning of a novel, or a film, or an album... at least when you are on the receiving end, that is?

But I found it became an impediment when I wanted to write. I always wanted to start at the beginning. The problem was that I didn't always know what the beginning was. I often had the middle or the end and various states in between, but the beginning was frequently elusive. So I would wait and think and wait and think until I had something I thought might be the beginning. THEN I would start.

As you can imagine I didn't get a lot of writing done this way. A great deal of thinking to be sure, but not a lot of writing. And if you know me well at all you also probably know that I often don't address a problem until I have overthunk it to a degree that drives me to near madness (side note: I decree that overthunk is officially a real word).

So, what did I do? I over-thought this problem until I just couldn't think about it anymore and decided to just try something else. Which was to just start writing and not to worry about whether it was the beginning or not. It's a very simple solution, I know. But habits and obsessions are hard to break.

And guess what happened? All the sudden I started writing a story I'd been thinking about for ages. And none of what I have down will likely end up as the beginning. But now I have tons of stuff to work with. I also now know just how bad first drafts can really be. And I don't care. Because I'm making progress, and some of it's actually kinda good, and some other stuff has lots of potential. And still some other stuff just acts as a place holder and will be slashed without mercy when I come up with something good to replace it.

What's most surprising is what ends up coming out once I've started. Things I had never considered before. Ideas manifesting on their own. Words, phrases, entire paragraphs apparently writing themselves since my fingers type them before I'm really conscious of thinking them. And that's when it starts getting really interesting.

The King's Speech

2011-01-21T14:59:00.001-08:00

I love love LOVE this movie! If ever there was a doubt that Colin Firth is one of the most amazing actor's on the planet (and in my mind there never was), this movie seals it.
Pride and Prejudice, The English Patient, Love Actually, Mama Mia, Dorian Gray, A Single Man, The King's Speech... I could go on and on. Every role is so.... him. I feel I can look in his eyes and know what he is feeling. I wish I knew how he did that...
The depth of human experience is etched in his face and expressed in his eyes and I believe every role he plays. He and that character are one in the same. And his performance in The King's Speech was inspired.
As was Geoffrey Rush, of course. Another man inhabited by genius.

So, the low down. Colin Firth is the Duke of York and he has a rather intense stammer. Being of the royal family in the age of radio he often has to speak in public. Which he can't. And the whole country has suffered with him in his humiliation. His wonderful wife, played by the sublime Helena Bonham Carter, finds an unconventional speech therapist, Geoffrey Rush, to help him. The film is about their difficult and inspiring relationship. Through a series of events The Duke of York becomes king right when the shit is about to hit the fan with Germany in 1936. At the end of the film the king must make the all important speech to the nation that England has entered into the war. This scene, using the Allegretto in Beethoven's 7th Symphony (one of the most beautiful and emotionally moving pieces of music to have ever been written), had me on the edge of my seat with tears in my eyes. The gravity of the history of this moment combined with the triumph of the king's will over his weakness and the understanding that he would have to hold his country together with his words through what turned out to be one of the most difficult times in the 20th century... Heavy stuff. Beautiful and grave.

I was moved to laughter and tears over and over, though these days moving me to tears isn't quite so difficult as it used to be(but I digress).
One of my favorite moments was when Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle were introduced for the first time. Jennifer Ehle plays Geoffrey Rush's wife in the film. From the moment I realized she was in this movie I was just waiting for the moment that they would be on screen together again. The moment was beautifully awkward and all I could think, despite everything, was Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennett (A&E's Pride and Prejudice).

I know some of you may not know this, but underneath this bad-ass tough girl exterior is a hopeless romantic that loves period pieces and girly movies. Just because I don't practice it in my life doesn't mean it doesn't move me to joyful tears when I see it going on.

Okay, I have a happy hour date with the stunningly beautiful and intelligent author of the Squid and Monkey blog.
Ciao!

clock strikes twelve

2011-01-19T23:55:00.001-08:00

Everything is a whiskey shade of amber. Mmmmm, whiskey.

Twelve hours really is an unreasonable number of hours to work in a bar. That is twelve hours in one day... in a row.
My feet seemed to expand like memory foam when I finally removed my shoes this evening.
I can feel my heart beat in my big toe.
I am completely and utterly delirious (case in point... I actually had to use spell checker to spell that word).
The previous sentence originally came out like this: U XRYAKKT Ga ru tse===

I wasn't actually tired or delirious until I stopped working. Up until that moment I was on my game for pretty much the entire day, except for the moment when two of my coworkers where telling me my text message alert was going off, and I was just staring at them, not comprehending, not even hearing... blissfully lost in my own little world until I heard them yell simultaneously... "SARAH!".

And then I made an extra thick strawberry milkshake for a handsome englishman (so I guess technically it was "strawbry") and had possibly inappropriate banter with him consisting of many many double entendre (wow, I spelled that one right on the first try!).

My bed beckons but my brain has yet to shut down for the night. Could be hours.
Ray Kurzwiel's book, The Singularity Is Near, sits next to my bed. I wonder if I am more or less apt to understand the "singularity" while in this half awake state of mind. My money is on less, but weirder things have happened.

Amber Case: We are all cyborgs now | Video on TED.com

2011-01-14T11:08:00.000-08:00

Something I came across in doing research for a story I'm trying to write...

Amber Case: We are all cyborgs now | Video on TED.com

New Brothers Quay!

2011-01-14T00:26:00.000-08:00

Oh man, I can't wait for this...

A screenshot from the new Brothers Quay animation.
Click here for the trailer

For some reason the embed code screwed with my blog formatting. meh.

Never Let Me Go

2011-01-14T00:15:00.000-08:00

WARNING**SPOILERS**
I just watched the film Never Let Me Go, based on the novel of the same name by Japanese-British author Kazuo Ishiguro (he also wrote Remains of the Day).

It's hard to know what to say about a film like this. It's one of those movies that puts me in a pensive mood for possibly hours after I've finished viewing it. There are so many beautiful and subtle things happening in the film. When it comes right down to it I guess it is about love and loss. The film is set in a reimagined past, where medical science has broken through and cured dozens of diseases by cloning human beings and using the clones as organ donors (yes yes, I've seen The Island… it's nothing like that).
The story follows three children, Ruth, Kathy, and Tommy, who are raised in a school specifically designed for these children. They are told all kinds of stories about the outside world, a world they are not allowed to experience. And the children seem happy and well cared for. And while they are being educated they are not being groomed to become anything other than donors.

Two of the children, Kathy and Tommy, are obviously meant to be together but they are kept apart when the 3rd girl, around when they are twelve years old or so, comes between them. The years go by and eventually they all go their separate ways. Kathy becomes a carer for other donors until her time to donate comes up. Eventually she runs into Ruth who is very weak after her 2nd donation. Ruth manages to get all three of them back together and apologizes for keeping Kathy and Tommy apart. She was jealous she says, and hopes they can forgive her.
Tommy has already done two of his donations by the time he and Kathy are able to express their love to each other.

So to me the movie is this: when you have no future all you can live for is the present.

Underneath that are other obvious ethical questions and metaphors for how often and what kind of people are used, exploited and simply discarded in our society. But this stuff is touched on gently, taking a back seat to the story of the three children.
I loved the film. It's sad and beautiful and tragic and sublime. I wish I had read the book first but I may still anyway.
This is a slow quiet movie for a slow quiet evening.

The Films of Gaspar Noe

2011-01-12T20:29:00.000-08:00

A few years ago while I was living in Scotty Body Watty's fun house of crazy I tried to watch Irreversible. I couldn't do it. It was too intense. I was not in the state of mind to handle the subject matter in the manner in which is was presented. I'm not sure if I made it to the rape scene back then, but I doubt it. The scene where Vincent Cassel is searching the gay sex club for a man called "The Tapeworm" was disorienting enough.
At the time I knew nothing about Gaspar Noe or the New French Extremity. I still know little about the latter, in fact it's a term that has only just come into my consciousness. I may be a bit of a film nerd but only to the degree that I love watching movies and learning about the process. Knowing names and chronology assists in this, so I can frequently name names and reference films without looking them up. But this knowledge is not to the degree that I have witnessed in some others.

Usually when I hear someone (esp in their early 20's and still in film school) start talking about things like the French New Wave I just tune them out. I can't take a regurgitation of "A History of Film 101" from anyone, no matter how much they may love the subject. It recently happened on a student film I was working on. The "producer" not only wouldn't shut up but just went on and on and on about this director and that director, "French New Wave" blah blah blah... "cinema verite" etc etc. In most cases it's pretty obvious that people just want to seem more knowledgable than they really are. I notice it because I've done the same thing. Mostly when I was in my early 20's. My apologies to those few friends of mine that do actually know what the hell they are talking about.

So I get pretty wary when I start feeling like I want to critique a piece of cinema, whether I liked it or not. A part of me wants to just flatly refuse to use the proper terminology. But the catch is that it makes it much more difficult for me to properly express what I'm trying to say. So I'll preface this by saying a few things. I did not go to film school. I did not take a any classes regarding the history of film. I tend not to read books that educate one on the history of film. I watch a lot of movies but for the majority of my life I have had an aversion to old films (black and white films and films made in the seventies, though recently I've overcome this aversion) and westerns. I think The only Sergio Leon film I've ever seen is The Good The Bad and The Ugly. I thought Breathless was really really boring. And I couldn't care less about Fellini (thought I hear La Dolce Vita is quite good... it's on my list).

So that's my rant before going into my "review" of two of Noe's films. I'm just going to tell you what I think and make sure you know that I'm not trying to be a film critic nor am I educated about film beyond my own self-education (that of just watching a whole crap-load of movies and the makings of such movies). In short, I just don't want you to think I'm a film snob (I like too many bad movies for that to be the case anyway).

Last year Noe put out a film called Enter the Void. It played at SXSW but we recently showed it at the Alamo Ritz. The trailer was fucking crazy and I decided that it was just the kind of movie I'd like to see. However, since I had made two unsuccessful attempts at watching his previous film, Irreversible, and so many of my friends really do love that movie, I decided the night before to try again.

Success! Which to me indicates just how different a space my consciousness is now in than it was years ago (a very very dark place indeed).
Which is not to say that Irreversible is easy to watch. It's not. It's dirty, it's dark, it's violent, it's gratuitous, it's disorienting, and even dizzying. All the things I suspect Noe intended it to be. And despite the fact that I'd someday like to find myself in a Monica Bellucci/Vincent Cassel sandwich (yes, seriously), it was still quite difficult to watch two of the sexiest people in the world exist in an environment as horrid as the one in that film.
The film is cut backwards. What I mean by that is that each scene happens in reverse order. It starts with the last scene in chronology and works it's way to the beginning. Cassel is seen at the beginning looking for a man called "The Tapeworm". This man, we later see, has raped his girlfriend (Bellucci), who we see later as having just found out that she is pregnant. And the rape scene is brutal. It lasts nine minutes. I endured it but found myself wanting to just skip over it. But it seems to me (in retrospect) that Noe's films are meant to be immersive. To suck you in and not let you go until the end, and when you are finally let go you are meant to float around wondering what the fuck just happened to you and will you ever be the same...
The camera in the film never seems to stop moving. It spirals in and out of scenes. Above, below and around the characters. It never stands still and often the scenery evaporates into seemingly never-ending concentric circles.

The same can be said about Enter the Void.

This film is about a brother and sister whose parents were killed in a car accident while the kids were quite young, and both kids were in the car. The flashbacks of this event happen frequently and suddenly.
The siblings live in a tiny apartment in Tokyo (is there any other kind of apartment in Tokyo... I doubt it). He is reading The Tibetan Book of the Dead and the film follows him on an evening after he has smoked DMT (a potent hallucinogen) and has to go to a club called "The Void". Noe's depiction of what one experiences while on hallucinogens is spot on. He's obviously done quite a bit himself.
The character, Oscar, is taking someone their stash, but it's a sting operation and the cops are there. He locks himself in the bathroom to try and flush the stash but he gets shot through the door. The rest of the film is about his out of body experience the moment after death, floating around Tokyo and watching the aftermath for his sister and his friends. All this interspersed with flashbacks of his life and how he came to be where he was. The subject matter is heavy and has a psycho-spiritual element to it (e.g. hallucinogens causing the death of the ego, the possibility of reincarnation, what really happens when you die, etc). And there is a prevalent incestuous element between the brother and sister as well, though they never actually "do it". Their relationship is fucked up, from the very beginning. The death of their parents and their separation by CPS. These people are genuinely fucked up, more or less beyond their ability to control it. It's disturbing and fascinating to watch.
At the end of the film (which ends in nearly a twenty minute floating tour of a fictional Japanese Love Hotel in which everyone is literally getting fucked) I told my friends that I didn't ever want to see any of them ever again (in jest, of course). Like we had just witnessed and practically participated in something so foul and taboo that just seeing them again would remind me of it and fill me with feelings of shame and disgust. The movie was that immersive.
On another note, however, it was also about an hour too long (160 minute run time). So many scenes were repeated unnecessarily. It could have easily been cut down by nearly an hour and been essentially the same film (imo).

The level of cognitive dissonance that Noe's films create in me is monumental. I'll probably never watch either of these movies again but am really glad I have seen them at the same time. Both of these films are apparently considered part of the New French Extremity movement. I've never seen any of the other films considered part of this genre though I just got a copy of a 2002 movie called Demonlover. We'll see if it's as difficult to watch as Noe's films.

I know a lot of people don't enjoy watching movies like these. People don't like being uncomfortable, which I can understand. I suppose it all depends on what you want out of your movie going experience. I don't always have to enjoy myself. I don't always have to be entertained. I like being challenged. In the overall scheme of things I like being able to experience such a broad range of emotions and reactions. They don't all have to be positive all the time (whatever that extremely subjective word "positive" means to you). The thing about art is that it's like a window that allows you to see the world through another's eyes. You may not have the proper context for what you are seeing but you are seeing something new and foreign all the same. I try to do this in real life as much as possible but this often isn't practical, or advisable in some cases.
Do I really need to walk into a crack house to experience what a crack heads life is like? No, not really. Know what I'm sayin?

One bad, two good

2011-01-11T22:25:00.000-08:00

Man, where to start?
I guess the first step is to admit it.

Yes, I went to see The Tourist.

Ugh. If I had actually paid to see this movie I might be kind of upset.
Let me sum up in a word... BORING.
Also, predictable. And, um, whoever is responsible for that soundtrack needs to get a new freakin' career because it was AWFUL. In every respect. It was almost like it had been plucked directly from a soap opera. Had the soundtrack been better, I might have been able to enjoy it as at least a fluff mystery film.

As with many movies the trailer was way better. So just take the trailer and extend it out to a feature length with terrible music and bad pacing.
And sadly I feel like Johnny phoned it in (I also think it entirely possible that he has sold his soul to Disney, but I digress). Angelina too, though I never get sick of looking at her. She just has to be her, I think, and everyone just gravitates in her direction, like the sun (or something). She also wore this one great Audrey Hepburn outfit near the end that made my jaw drop.

And I really like all these actors. Jolie, Depp, Paul Bettany (who actually did a great job, as always)...

Not to say that it didn't have a few moments of clever humor. But yeah, don't waste your money. Maybe if you need something on Netflix On Demand that doesn't require any kind of emotional investment, then I say have a ball.

Contrast that with the surprisingly excellent film, The Fighter, which I also just saw.

It's less about Wahlberg's character's fighting career and more about how his fucked up east coast family holds him back. Everyone wants a piece of someone so talented. Someone they think is going to be a star. And yet instead of him bringing them up with him (impossible, btw, for anyone), they just drag him down. And he realizes this and struggles with how to honor himself without alienating his family.
Great stuff.

Bale does a great job as his once great boxer big brother/trainer who falls into crack addiction. I think this is what they call "Big Acting". The Academy apparently loves that kind of thing so he'll likely be nominated. And that's fine. He's excellent, actually, but not so much that he steals the show. Which just goes to show how excellent the script is and how good the performances are all around.
This one I definitely recommend. Just be aware that the accents are thick, man. It takes place in Massachusetts so it's similar to the Boston accent, which drives me bonkers.

And I got one more for ya'.
Blue Valentine.

Excellent. So real it is scary. I know people that have had relationships like this. I have been in a relationship where very similar things have happened.
It's about two people (Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling) who are falling out of love. They can't communicate well and they have a child. It is sad. Really really sad.
Michelle Williams does an amazing job at portraying her inner dialogue. The chemistry between the two of them goes from such an extreme to the other that you can't help but be drawn in. It's shot beautifully and cut in such a way that their relationship drama is not boring, revealing bits and pieces of their life out of order so that you only know what they want you to know when they want you to know it.
But a warning, THIS IS NOT A DATE MOVIE. Seriously. I really really mean this.
You will likely not feel good after viewing this movie.

That is all.

Tron:Legacy = AWESOME!

2011-01-06T09:33:00.000-08:00

So I've heard this rumor that TRON:Legacy has been getting panned in reviews. And quite a few people I have talked to said they didn't particularly care for it. Honestly I'm shocked. SHOCKED I tell you!
I guess it is just one more example of how I don't have my finger on the pulse of America. But seriously? What's not to like?

Is it because people just can't see past the eye candy? Or they think if the eye candy is so good then automatically there is no substance to back it up? Because that just isn't the case here, man.

I suppose I can understand people saying the plot is a little thin. I kind of agree but at the same time understand that they had to make the story accessible to a broad audience, including kids. Not easy to do when you are making a story about a world that exists only inside a computer.

WARNING***SPOILERS******
But the story is so much more than the plot. The story is ultimately about a man against his former self and the consequences of his ego. CLU is Kevin Flynn's alter-ego, formed at a period in time when Kevin was trying to build what he called the "perfect" system. He designed the grid for programs and users alike (remember in the previous movie the User's were a mythology that the MCP actively tried to dispel). But at some point the grid, programmed by Flynn and protected by Tron, becomes complex enough that new digital life forms manifest, independent of Flynn's programming... The Isos. They are like sentient artificial intelligence that evolved out of Flynn's design. Completely unintended by Flynn. But he's human and is open minded and fascinated by the spontaneous development of life and intelligence (I'd be surprised if the metaphor for the dawn of human consciousness was lost on anyone but I've been known to overestimate people before). The Isos understand little of the world but much about life. And all the sudden Flynn's mind is blown wide open. But CLU, being a program with only one purpose, cannot change (establishment vs progress anyone?). He cannot see the new and he is threatened by them. He stages a coup and takes over the running of the grid, destroying all Isos in the process. Flynn can't get out of the grid in time and is trapped for there for 20 years.
So eventually he becomes like a monk, meditating in a cave for 20 years (or what on the grid feels more like 200 years). He saved one Iso from the slaughter and made her his apprentice. Taught her everything he knew in order for her to get out and change the world.
The underlying theme is much like the zen koan about the monk who spent his entire life looking for the perfect cherry blossom only to realize in the end that every cherry blossom is perfect.
He even says it: Perfection is unknowable but is in front of you all the time.
CLU is the extreme of the personality flaws of Kevin in his youth. His ultimate goal is perfection and his hatred for Flynn (for his perceived betrayal) causes him to go out of control and want to take an army of programs out of the grid and into the real world (whether this is actually possible or not is unclear). CLU is obviously insane but he also has control of all the programs on the grid (do I really have to point out this obvious metaphor?)

One of the elements I loved was the fact that they called Flynn "The Creator". A more obvious reference to god I can't imagine. Kevin designed and built the grid. He's a user. He has special powers that programs don't have (remember when he reassembled the Recognizer in the first movie???). Which is why he can touch a surface in the grid and control the behaviors of programs. But he can't control CLU because CLU IS Flynn. The more Flynn fights the stronger CLU gets. So Flynn does nothing until he has to. He just protects Quora.
And when he reintigrates with CLU at the end this opens up a whole range of possibilities for a sequel. Flynn now really is god of the grid (if he survived, which of course, he did, I mean, come on). He could BE the grid now for all we know. Quora, the Iso, is free in the world. Sam saves the grid on a chip and shuts down the system. End of story? Hardly.
Remember Cillian Murphy's character at the beginning? He's completely set up to be the next villain.
The grid in TRON: Legacy was not on a network. It was self contained. What happens when Dillinger (son of the previous movie's villain and Murphy's character) finds out about the grid? He'll likely want revenge for Sam's sabotage of Encom. What will he do?

Oh yeah, and what about Tron? The protector of the grid? He's a security program designed to protect the grid and fight for the users. *SPOILER ALERT* He was corrupted by CLU during the coup and is now CLU's enforcer. But during his encounter with Flynn at the end he changes. He remembers who he is but all we see is him falling to the bottom of the "sea" and changing from orange back to blue. He's alive, but what becomes of him?

How can this NOT be interesting? It's a story about love and karma (the effect of past actions), betrayal and atonement. The movie is internally consistent and is exactly what it's trying to be. In my opinion it doesn't fail any test.

I've seen it three times and want to see it at least once or twice more before it's out of the theater. It's beautiful and fun and exciting and poignant. Yes, I am a sci-fi nerd. Yes, I can be a tech nerd. And yes, the stuff going on in Tron is stuff that fascinates me to no end. I just want people to remember that what HAPPENS in a movie isn't necessarily what the movie is ABOUT.

Discovering my process

2011-01-02T10:55:00.000-08:00

Good morning! And Happy New Year!
I've recently decided that living as a night owl has changed my perception of what exactly "morning" is and, consequently, when breakfast is. Officially it is still morning for me, no matter the hour, for three hours after I get out of bed (usually that falls between 10am and noon). The first meal that falls within that time period is officially breakfast.
Although if for some reason I decided to go back to bed after breakfast (it doesn't happen often I assure you) the morning clock does not reset.
So, now that that's settled...

Over the last few months I've been slowly but surely discovering the things that do and don't work for my writing process. Mostly I've been investigating how to deal with resistance. You know, that nagging thing that happens in your brain when you start thinking about writing but don't have any specific inspiration on hand?
I've discovered all the ways I avoid actually getting my butt in my chair. Dishes, house cleaning, shopping (admittedly that doesn't happen too much since I'm always broke), reading (this is the most common), movies (2nd most common), organizing, etc. One of the more clever ones is deciding I need to take my laptop to a coffee shop so I can get out of the house a little. Surely there inspiration will strike and I can start writing. Yeah, never works. Well, almost never anyway. Though it does help me get through large chunks of whatever book I'm reading at the time.
And then the other day I just sat down. I couldn't think of anything to write (even though I have about a dozen or so ideas that have been floating around my brain for months now). So I started writing a journal about how frustrated I was. Lo and behold, I write one sentence that strikes me and that sentence becomes the first line of the short story I've been trying to start for ages.

Now this line may not end up being the first line of the whole piece. And it may not even make it through the editing stage. But I finally started the story. And the beginning is always the hardest. I have this hang up of always wanting to start at the beginning. It's crippling to tell you the truth. Even if I have an idea for something later in the story I tend to not want to start writing it until I get there chronologically. So I've developed some excellent mental gymnastics to circumvent this rather obsessive need... Whenever I begin writing something I just write as though it is the beginning. Never mind whether it is actually going to be the beginning. Who knows, could turn out to be the end... but it seems to be working.
The other thing that seems to be working is just sitting my ass down and writing. Even if it sucks. And trust me, I have a few really sucky things on my hard drive at the moment. I don't have to show anyone, right? Why was I so afraid of writing bad material before? Surely every writer has an extensive collection of work they would never show anyone.

Where did this fear of being wrong or bad come from? I've had it as long as I can remember. Performance anxiety at piano recitals and tennis tournaments, stage fright during theater auditions, rehearsals and shows. Though interestingly none of this was ever present when performing with an ensemble. So it seems whenever I put myself out there solo, where me and only me is there to be judged, the fear takes over. It's getting better. Way way better. But it's still there.

Oh, and before I go... I have yet to introduce everyone to the newest addition to my household....
Introducing Kitten Anne Frank (she's really good at hiding)...

2010-12-28T17:28:00.000-08:00

As 2011 approaches, only three days left in fact, I again immerse myself into Asimov's Foundation series. Book Five, Foundation and Earth.

I feel a little battered over the head with the repetition of the central argument of the main characters. Is a united galaxy, united to the extent that it is one conscious organism, worth the loss of human being's individuality. What, truly, is an individual's worth? How precious is an individual's life in comparison to the whole of humanity? The story offers many examples of isolationism taking a civilization to an extreme, always with some negative outcome for the protagonists.

Asimov is not the most eloquent writer, and often his prose is a little awkward, but that did not lessen my enjoyment of the book at all. His audience in the 50's, when the original four books were written, were probably being introduced to astrophysics for the first time, so obviously lengthy explanations about how things work in a space ship were necessary. And even in the 80's, when this book was written and things like Star Trek were already embedded in the cultural psyche, the average audience's understanding of the potential for interstellar travel and artificial intelligence was still not incredibly sophisticated. For me the lengthy explanations and repetition of explanations of why things worked the way they did just reinforced my immersion in both the characters themselves and the technology they were using.

But I think the best thing was that at the end of the book I was surprised. It totally did not go where I thought it was going to go. And he tied everything together, which is difficult to do. I don't always like it when everything gets explained so neatly, but in this case everything that happened had a purpose and he still left the end open to the imagination. The possibilities are endless as to what happens next.
I won't go so far as to say that The Foundation series is my favorite series (that spot is still reserved for Frank Herbert's Dune), but it's good. Really good. And being the sci-fi nut that I am it's great to see where so much modern sci-fi comes from.

What's in a name?

2010-10-08T16:04:00.000-07:00

I suppose I should explain the change in blog title... Not much to it actually. The old one wasn't working for me.
I do think blogs are self-indulgent, but I had hoped that this blog would be less a chronicle of my goings-on and more a space for me to experiment in my fiction writing... but for some reason I just wanted to keep talking about myself and real life and keep all my fiction private.
And I'll probably keep it private a little while longer.

As for being bored, well, it's not that Austin is boring. Far from it. But no matter what the available diversions I continually find myself bored with it all. But it's kinda cool, because the more bored I get with it, the more dedicated I am to being not bored. Hmmm, sounds like a tautology... but I digress.
Anyway, I have discovered a way to stave off boredom. A few ways actually. And this is all stuff I wish I had been doing for a long time, but hey, better late than never, right?

So, first, writing. How can I be bored when I'm working out intricate story problems in completely bizarre fantasy worlds I've created in my own head? Frustrated, most definitely. But not bored. And I have a new system for my ideas (thanks to my acting coach Van, and less directly to Paul Thomas Anderson)... It's quite simple, but totally works with my slightly OCD pattern addicted brain. Every idea I have I write down on an index card. Even if it is just a word. I do about three a day, on average, and have already written one short story based on one of these ideas. Go me!

Second, dancing. I've always loved to dance, and I'm kinda good at it. But I'm completely self taught (or mostly, anyway). I have no technique and I had recently hit a wall with my abilities and was starting to get bored with my own dancing. So I started taking dance classes. Contemporary and Jazz, for now. We'll see what else I'll get into. Ballet Austin has an excellent community school and I was so overcome with joy after my first class that I almost shed tears on my bike ride home (I said almost).

Finally, acting. I've been taking acting classes for over a year and I think I'm finally starting to make some breakthroughs. It's not what I thought it was, acting. I started taking the class because I thought it would make me a better writer. And I think it is. I also think it is making me a better person. And let's face it, everything I do ultimately is because I want to be a better person (ok, not EVERYTHING). Being self aware and losing one's self-consciousness are huge steps to take in life and I'm taking them. It's a challenge, and it's definitely NOT boring.
Which is not to say I don't want to act at all. Yesterday I had an audition for a short film, the script of which is exactly the type of project I would want to be involved in (it's a very psychedelic Jacob's Ladder type film). I think I've got the part. I'll know soon. Again, being involved in making cool art, definitely NOT boring.

I'm still doing the stunt thing, though lately I've had an injury I've had to heal and have also had to work on class nights. But I'm going to lump this in with dancing because it's about movement and it's physically challenging... and definitely keeps me from being bored.

And just for giggles... here's something else that helped me not be bored, and this was while I was at work:-)

Yeah, that's me drinking a Lone Star with Bill Pullman. Hehe!

lost in stories...

2010-07-03T02:40:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get so caught up in other people's stories that I forget about my own. I forget all about it actually, until that moment when that other person's story parallels my own in some way, which happens frequently. Some character has an inner conflict just like the one I'm having, or maybe feels love in the same way I do (or want to), or they come to some realization that I've had or even need to have.
I used to wonder what was it about stories that fascinated me so much. Why do I read so much fiction? Why do I love to watch so many movies? Why do I get so invested emotionally when watching some TV show? Stories! Even in the most fiction of fiction there is something true. Even in the worst of the worst (I'm thinking along the lines of Transformers 2 and the like). Even if the way the story teller(s) go about it is the most awkward or trite way possible, the truth is the truth.

I think I forget about my own story to my detriment, in the long run anyway. Immersing myself in fiction is similar to doing drugs. It's a form of escapism. And it's also a way to experience something I've never experienced before, in this case someone else's perspective. Yes, it's true. I try to escape my life. My mind wanders. A lot. All the time really. Reading, watching movies, writing... these things make me focus. Having a monkey mind is exhausting and has caused me to spin my wheels a lot, doing lots but not really getting anywhere. It seems to be part of my nature. And I think it contributes to me getting bored easily. Which I think is why I'm always changing jobs. The idea of having a career makes my heart die a little. And it makes me want to run away. But actually running away takes a lot of work so escaping in fiction (previously drugs, so I think I have actually made some progress) is the best and healthiest way I can think of to escape and focus at the same time.

People can go on and on about how story telling is a noble and necessary profession. How all human cultures have had story tellers going back to the beginning of language. How it allows us to have culture at all. And all that is true. And I guess it makes me feel good, at least it makes me feel less selfish, for wanting to be a writer. But none of those reasons are why I actually want to do it. Basically if I don't do it then I won't do anything. Not anything worthwhile anyway. I have to do it. My brain is forcing me to walk that direction, there really is nothing I can do about it. I either have a go at it or I just get on with some job making a paycheck that lets me live in the modern world. Ugh. The road to misery. And as much as I would love to influence the way people see the world, maybe even change something in some small way, that's not WHY I want to do it either. That would just be an unexpected bonus. But I mean really, if you think about it, just existing changes things, so no one can help but change the world in some way, so there you go. I've changed the world. Sweet.

The gambler

2010-04-30T10:16:00.000-07:00

I've never considered myself a risk taker, a gambler, or anything of the kind really. Not that I ever thought that I played it particularly safe either. But in retrospect I did do just that, for quite some time. I took safe jobs. Boring jobs. Jobs that paid a good regular paycheck. Paychecks that allowed me to make car payments, buy fancy computers, go on trips to NYC and SoCal and go shopping in Vegas (ok, that last one only happened once, but that dress is still my favorite). And then finally I quit. I quit the relative safety of a tech job with a guaranteed paycheck and an office with a view. Because I fucking hated it. I sold my soul for comfort and money. It was no different than when I was partying 4 nights a week with a bunch of free blow, destroying my spirit and everything that made me human with every line that went up my nose (where is the safety in that, you may ask... well ask anyone that has ever done cocaine - the safety is in the guarantee of a high that makes you feel like more than you ever were sober, never mind the fact that it is totally and utterly false, but I digress). The difference is that one is socially acceptable and most everyone does it, and the other, well, isn't (I'll let you decide which is which).

And ever since then everything I have done has been a gamble in increasing degrees. First, I left all my friends and family, my entire excellent support system, and moved alone to another country. There was some risk in that but I had a job waiting for me, a company that was there to help me if I needed it, and two credit cards. The money was about the same as I was making before, I was just in a place completely unfamiliar and alone. And it was good. I needed it. To be alone. To go places, see things, meet people. Find myself. And I did. When I decided to not renew my contract and come home instead, I took yet another risk. I had no job waiting for me and no guarantee of finding a good one in the current economy, and Steven and I were gonna give it another go. So I moved in with my best friend/lover, with no guarantee that it was gonna work this time either, and set about looking for a job that wouldn't make me miserable and would hopefully pay my rather extensive bills (fucking credit cards).

A year later I'm in a job I love but pays very little. It's service industry work that varies greatly. Sometimes I make a good paycheck. Sometimes I don't. The result is that I've ended up declaring bankruptcy in order to discharge my debts and start over. I started writing, and showing it to people. Always a gamble, which seems to be paying off, a little. I started taking acting classes and auditioning for films. I've gotten roles but nothing paying yet. I was offered a paying gig recently, doing stunt fighting in a feature film, but one of the investors fell through and now that project is on hold indefinitely.
And then the biggest gamble of all, breaking up with Steven. I still wonder if I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life, giving up someone as awesome as he is. But sometimes things just don't work, no matter how much you want them to. You can't change a person's nature and I would never want to. So now I'm taking a gamble. Moving away from him to stand on my own. I still wonder how I'm going to manage not seeing him every day. Not getting a hug from him in the morning. Not sitting down for dinner and our favorite shows together at night. Not laughing hysterically at Alice together as she spazzes out over something, anything. It's always a gamble leaving a comfortable situation, leaving love behind. How do you reconcile sadness with the knowledge that what you are doing is the right thing? How can I be so sad if I know that ultimately we'll both be happier eventually?

Everything in my life is about to change. My routine, which is long overdue for a major overhaul,my passions, my perspective, my lifestyle, my desires. The model of my life is about to get a swift kick in the ass. And I don't know exactly where it's going to take me, or what choices I will have along the way. But I know for sure that I'm going to be driving and not just riding along.

So right now it seems like everything on my plate is a gamble. But it seems like this is often true and the idea that we are ever safe is an illusion. Anything can happen at any time and I can't let the idea that something might not work out stop me from doing what it is I know I need to do. If I don't follow my heart, if I am not true to myself, I'm guaranteed to be unhappy. So what is the greater gamble? Playing it safe and guaranteeing unhappiness, or taking a risk for the possibility of something way way more awesome?

Illnesses and Love

2010-02-11T11:47:00.000-08:00

Illness:
Getting over an illness always feels like an emergence. Like I was thrown down a well and spent days trying to escape, climbing up, stone by stone, occasionally slipping, but finally making it and being bathed in sunlight for the first time in days. From darkness to light. Coldness to warmth. Or maybe like being suddenly ignored by a lover over a meaningless fight only to make up days later, falling in to each others arms in forgiveness and remembering why it was you loved each other in the first place. Yeah, cedar fever is kind of like that. Coming out of cedar fever always reminds me of the extremes in life. Oh yeah, this is what it feels like to NOT be miserable. From the depth of misery and depression to ecstatic joy and happiness. Not even the freezing rain can put me in a bad mood today. And I'm not even 100% yet. But I can breath like a normal person for the first time in four days.

Love:
Sometimes I wonder why love and passion in real life can't be more like in the movies. In the movies it's so simple, even when there is complex conflict involved we always recognize feelings for what they are... love, lust, passion, hate, misery, ecstasy, joy, relief, confusion. It's cut and dry, even when it isn't. Real life is never like that. Love isn't just love, passion isn't just passion, misery isn't just misery. As good as we are at capturing the human experience on screen or even on paper, it can never tell us the whole truth about anything. At best it can only tell us the truth about one part of one thing. But even that can be huge sometimes, considering how little people really know concerning the truth about themselves.
I sometimes wonder how universal any one experience is. Surely my experience of love is unique, and yet I relate to the stories people tell about their love, if only in part. The same goes for misery. My experience of my own misery is unique, and yet there is something universal about it. If I told someone the perfect truth about my misery they probably wouldn't find the story miserable. But if I only told them a few perfectly selected things about it they would understand and we would be connected in some way through it. Maybe it's because the details aren't so important, and that's why we often forget them.

January so far

2010-01-24T11:22:00.000-08:00

Well it's almost the end of the month and I just realized I haven't posted ANYTHING new since before the first of the year. Not too much has changed except that I did finish the first draft of my screenplay. It came only to 97 pages, a little short, but that gives me about 13 pages wiggle room for adjustments and any scenes I need to add to make it flow better and make better sense. I haven't re-read it yet though so I don't really know how bad it is yet. Haven't really had the time, but I did start reading some more books related to screen writing, and I'm also reading a few scripts that have actually been made and have a few things in common with my script. So far the problem is that several of these scripts were actually directed by the same people that wrote them, and so some of the "rules" in the books I've read on screenwriting don't really apply. When you write a script you yourself are going to direct you tend to get away with a lot it seems.
Anyway, hopefully I'll be starting on the 2nd draft in the next few weeks. In the meantime I'm going to start reviewing footage for a documentary I've been asked to cut. 40 hours of footage so far, with more on the way. So lots of time will be spent on this.
It's a bit frustrating to have so much on my plate since after doing the screenplay I was going to seriously start working on the Satan's Cheerleader comic book, but this documentary I think could have real potential and I think it is a great thing for me to work on, so the comic book, yet again, is on the back burner.
Other than that things are pretty normal. I LOVE LOVE LOVE my new scooter and the relative independence that it is affording me. It costs about $3.75 to fill up and it'll go about 150 miles on that, so yay!
The weather here in Austin has been amazing the last week... lower 70's pretty consistently, and clear (not at all like January should be). A bit windy, which means the cedar is getting blown around, causing me to be apartment ridden all of Thursday due to extreme congestion. My nose is peeling something fierce after using almost an entire box of Puffs, but I did get to go on a nice walk around Town Lake yesterday with Steven. It was beautiful.
Next weekend is my motorcycle safety class. Steven and I are taking it together and we are learning on real motorcycles, not scooters. Maybe he'll get a scooter too and we can scoot around town together! Ciao!

Last post of the year

2009-12-29T17:02:00.000-08:00

Well the last week of the year has been mostly one of work. I should even be getting some overtime as of tomorrow, but I'm feeling it, mostly in my legs. My apartment has a jacuzzi, though sadly not one in which I can travel through time with John Cusack to the 80s in, but it should be theraputic if I can get up enough guts to leave the apartment while it's below 40 degrees.

A few cool things have happened though. Had an excellent Christmas Eve meal with Steven and my sister.

I nabbed a leftover apple pie from work and eating that was really REALLY nice.

I have a new coffee table/work space and new cookware for the kitchen.

I got some money from the folks and I bought (with Steven's significant help) an Aprilia Scarabeo 50 scooter, so I have joined the land of the mechanically mobile, though I won't be able to pick it up until Thursday.

My best friend, Marc, gave me The Complete Stories of JG Ballard (he wrote Crash... the sexy one with James Spader directed by David Cronenburg).

And I saw Avatar (amazing) and Sherlock Holmes (lots of fun).

This upcoming weekend I have off work, which hasn't happened in a few months, so that'll be nice. I'll have time to hang out with some people and maybe catch up on a few things. Not a bad way to start out the year.

See you in 2010! Love you!

What's next?

2009-12-14T13:15:00.000-08:00

So I'm finally over being sick, though the cedar that's polluting the Austin air right now is definitely NOT my friend. I think I have gotten Steven sick too, but time will tell how bad it will get for him. He's not the one standing around a film set in the cold rain.
And speaking of, it looks like the movie is now shooting in the evenings, which really limits the amount of time I can work on it. And the shooting (at least in this area) ends on Friday. So in all likelihood I won't make it down there again.
So my assessment on that film is this... they are incredibly unorganized (not surprising for a low budget film I guess), but all the technical people know what is going on and they do their jobs really well. So kudos to them. They don't fuck around.
The 1st and 2nd assistant directors are good at their jobs and very nice and willing to help unexperienced people like me step up and see what we can do. The director seems cool but I didn't get to talk to him much.
The producers are also nice, and one of them gave me his card to pass on to my sis so she could forward them her script that involves the world of MMA in Las Vegas. So, that was cool.
Rudy Youngblood (the star) is super sweet and so is Michael Bisping. The female star, Susie something, seemed very sweet but the only day I saw her she was doing a very intense and touching scene so she wasn't super social with the crew. I did make her coffee and 2 ghetto PB&Js that she really appreciated.
And Eric Balfour just seemed too cool to interact with anyone that wasn't "important". Not that actors should go out of their way to interact with the crew or anything. But when I'm trying to help out and do my job in order to help others get their job done, it doesn't take much to be gracious, imo.
I helped get my BFF Trixi an extras spot in the film. Sadly it filmed on Friday night, outside, in the cold rain. I couldn't be there for 2 reasons. I was still sick, and I had a commitment to my friend Ilse's bachelorette party (a low key Indian feast with lots of girl talk and x-mas decoration crafts). So she was there alone. And due to their poor organizing she ended up being left out in the rain waiting for some instruction for over an hour. I hope she doesn't get sick!
But because there were so few "alternative" looking people in the extras pool, she was used a lot. Like almost every scene. So we'll get to see her in the film! YAY!

So now on to what I've got going on... other than normal work stuff, I'm going to see the midnight showing of Avatar this week. Sweet.
I'm going to be cutting a no budget amateur short film for some of the people in my acting class (downloading footage now).
I may start taking movement classes from a fellow acting student. I'll be getting back to stunt class after the first of the year and taking a few months off of my acting class, but in lieu of that I'll be getting some instructions from my acting coach on how to practice things on my own. Also, some of the people from class might start a group where we can rehearse scene's together or do short films or a combination of things.
I'm still writing for GadgetMETER. My articles are getting better, imo, and I hope we are going to start reaching a wider audience in the coming year.
I'm still working on my screenplay. I finally have a legit copy of Final Draft so that will make it easier.
I have an idea for a short story about a girl that falls in love with an android. And I think I'd like to turn that into a short screenplay as well. Possibly 30 minutes or less. And see if someone can get a minimal effects budget for it and actually make it into something.
After the screenplay is finished I'm starting work on the Satan's Cheerleader comic book. It's been gestating long enough. Time to make it happen.
So with all that in the pipeline, I don't think film production work in the future will be feasible. Which is fine. That's not what I want to do anyway. I want to focus on writing and performing.

Oh yeah, and I did a photoshoot with Sam from Thirdspace Photography recently. Here are my favorite shots (click them to see larger versions!):

Sick days

2009-12-09T09:16:00.000-08:00

For the last 2 days I have been going to bed early and getting up around 7:30am, about 3 hours earlier than I normally awake, so that I can go work, for free, as a production assistant on a feature film set. I've been assisting the 1st and 2nd assistant directors, calling out things like "quiet on set" and "standby for sound", so that everyone not in their immediate vicinity actually knows what is going on and doesn't stumble onto the set when they are in the middle of a take. I also get bottled water, coffee and chocolate from the craft services for cast and crew members, and yesterday I had to handle a crisis where all the crew members radio batteries were dying at the same time (so that time I just called over the radio down to the "clubhouse" for some "hot bricks"... yeah, I tried to make it sound more serious than it actually was... sue me).
The film is called BEATDOWN and is a film about some MMA fighters. Rudy Youngblood (star of Mel Gibson's Apacolypto) is the star and Danny Trejo is playing his dad. Michael Bisping, a fighter for the UFC, is also in it. Rudy and Michael are both SUPER nice. I don't personally follow the UFC but my BFF Trixi does and there is a call for extras on Friday night for the big fight scene. I hope they call her back to come out for it. If she got to meet these guys I would be her hero forever:-)
But today I seem to have succumbed to a flu bug (or possibly a really aggressive case of Cedar Fever) so I'm not able to go to the set today. Which is a bummer because today is the first day that it hasn't been overcast and aggressively misting (cold dampness not good for health, btw).
But I'd be totally useless on set today so I'm staying home, surrounded by a white sea of crumpled Puff's with Aloe, and lopsided house plants because they have turned to face the only source of natural light, the back patio door.
Alice is diggin' the houseplants, btw. They were previously on the patio but had to be brought in last week due to the freeze. So now my Ficus is missing many leaves and a few branches, and the other plant (the name of which I don't know) is surrounded by a radius of dirt, kicked up by Alice when she decided to actually get in the pot and investigate it. I've already vacuumed it once. Must be done sometime again today, after I have had the Tom Kha soup that is being delivered to me by my hero of the day, Susanna.
Steven was my hero last night for bringing me hot Chai and chocolate. Actually he is always my hero, because he's cute and considerate and for some unknown reason thinks I'm charming, or something.
I know I should probably be in bed but I can't get back to sleep. I'm congested and I already slept for 10 hours.
I'll be chillin in the studio here pretty soon, catching up on some movies and snuggling under a blanket until I have to go in to the Ritz to pull an 8 hour ticket shift.
Yeah, I'm gonna do it, because I need the hours and all I have to do is sit there and sell tickets to people. If I was running food there would be no way. Also, I get free hot apple cider.

Thanksgiving 2009

2009-11-27T14:05:00.000-08:00

Nothing spreads holiday cheer like watching a film about a father and son trying to survive the end of civilization in a world that is swarming with would-be cannibals.

Steven and I went to see The Road this afternoon, and if anyone has read any of Cormac McCarthy's books then you'll know he's not exactly a "feel good" kinda guy. But strangely enough while contemplating the movie on the way home and trying to overcome the vaguely sick feeling I had (from eating and then having every muscle in my body stay tense for the entire two hour movie), I realize just how much I have to be thankful for. Nothing like watching people struggle for their very survival in a dying world to see just how much you take for granted. I mean I don't suppose you can go around every second of every day being grateful for just everything all the time, but a little perspective every once in a while can be a good thing.
Steven pointed out that what Cormac McCarthy seems to be really good at is getting down to the heart of what it really means to be human. What really creates the human condition and what is a person really willing to do when it comes down to it. It's heart wrenching, so be warned. Not a date film.

I spent the last two days in San Antonio hangin with my family. I'm not really a fan of San Antonio in general but I am a fan of my family. A very interesting group ranging in age from 70 (my dad) to 11 months (my niece). And ranging in profession and political spectrum from nearly one end to the other (no extremists I'm happy to say). And they all love Steven (who wouldn't!?!?), so I got that goin for me;-)
It's fun to watch the family evolve too. Two of my sisters and my brother are married and have kids now, one sister inherited some step daughters (who are teenagers now and I went shopping with AT THE MALL the other day... wow, that was weird).
Thought what is kind of a bummer is that now everyone goes to bed early. Me and Steven are night owls and I was totally hoping for a night of wine and board games. But we watched one movie and everyone starts nodding off.
Oh well.
So we said our goodbyes and headed home to snuggle up with a movie of our own and our little black kitty who really isn't so little anymore.

work money art...

2009-10-30T10:17:00.000-07:00

I was looking at my paycheck from the Drafthouse the other day and noticed something. I remember being told when I first started that each time I train up to a new position I get a small raise. Well I've trained to three new positions and that raise hasn't shown up yet. I had forgotten about it at first but now realize that for at least the last 4 paychecks I've not been getting paid the correct amount. So that's something I have to address today.
I've also applied for another position at the Drafthouse, an event coordinator position. But it looks like they may want to put someone who is already in management into that position. If that happens I will need to start exploring other options. Oh, I will stay at the Drafthouse. I'm finally bar tending regularly and I like it, but I need another job, possibly bar tending somewhere else, maybe 2 nights a week, to make some additional money. I'm finally scraping the bottom of my bank account. I was doing pretty well for awhile but it's now back to paycheck to paycheck living and my previous irresponsible behavior with regards to credit cards is catching up with me. I've learned some good money lessons over the past few years though and now I just have to be extra responsible with my money so I can get myself out. Karma man, it's a bitch sometimes.

I feel like I'm in the part of my life that is completely defined by sacrifice. When I was in my twenties I was unsure of my creativity and therefor unwilling to make sacrifices for it. I wanted to go everywhere and do everything. And I went a lot of places and did a lot of things. Lots and lots of awesome places and things. One of the reasons I have debt actually. But it was all worth it. Every minute, even the dark stuff.
I was reading an interview with Poppy Z Brite once (excellent writer for those of you who don't know) and she made a comment about all the young writers out there who haven't been anywhere or done anything. Essentially they haven't lived so what was there for them to write about. And it showed in their work. Well I feel like I have lived and now I have a few things to say about it. And I'm not done by a long shot, but now is the time to sacrifice that slightly hedonistic , irresponsible lifestyle and focus on my art. If I had done it ten years ago I might be successful by now, or maybe not. Maybe no-one would have been interested to hear what a twenty something know-it-all (who really knew nothing about anything) had to say and I'd be more dejected than if I had done nothing at all. Maybe no-one is interested in what I have to say now, but fuck it, I'm going to say it anyway and see if I can reach an audience. I think I can.

Driving me nutz

2009-10-20T12:13:00.000-07:00

Steven has been house sitting this past week for a few friends of ours and has the ability of using their car to go to work. So that has given me a few days with Steven's car to use for my convenience. And I do love driving his 2007 VW Rabbit. It's a dream to drive, even with the dented hatchback from the deaf texting bandit that rear ended us a few weeks ago (yes, that's right, he was deaf and texting WHILE driving... awesome).
But today reminded me of all the things I hate about driving:

Spending money on gasoline
The smell of gasoline, especially when it drips on your skin
Traffic
Construction
Waiting for a vehicle inspection and then spending more money on it (that's my thank you to Steven for letting me use his car)
Stop lights
People stealing parking spots you were obviously waiting for
The constant getting in and getting out when running errands

I just watched my wallet get thinner and thinner as the day went on. I hadn't spent any money in almost four days, save for the $.75 bus fare from yesterday. But today I was siphoning cash out into the ether like there was no tomorrow.

I really am happier and much more relaxed when I have to ride my bike. I'm in better shape and much more efficient with my errands. I don't have to sit and wait for ages in traffic to get somewhere. And the bike trails are much much nicer than any freeway.
But both a bike and a car can be constraining in their own ways. I'm just glad I'm done with my errands and can sit at home for the next 4 hours making cheesecake and working on my screenplay while listening to ambient dub and feeling the cool breeze come in through all the open windows in the house.

WTWTA

2009-10-16T10:49:00.001-07:00

Last night Steven took me to the opening of Spike Jones' Where The Wild Things Are.
I really liked it but I have to say the trailer was probably more enchanting than the actual movie (Steven articulated this first, and I completely agree). Almost every single time I saw the trailer it brought tears to my eyes.
"Inside each of us is a wild thing." Indeed! I have a wild thing inside of me for sure!

The art direction was quite beautiful. It's enough to see the movie just for that. And there are lots of little things that make the movie a pleasure. It's dark in places and ridiculous in places. But always very melancholy. Max is going through a wild stage. Acting out and causing his mother distress. He runs away into his imaginary world and basically becomes the parent to an extremely dysfunctional family and then begins to see things from a new perspective. So he leaves to go home again, but nothing he is leaving behind feels resolved in any way. Will the wild things just keep going on as they had been before? Does the cycle continue? Or did Max teach them a new way to live with each other as he has learned a new way to live with his own family? I didn't see that and was a little disappointed. Just a little hope that the wild things would have their own realizations about family and living together would have been the one thing that would have made this film really really good, instead of just fun to watch. But it could be that this was the filmmaker's intention and that it was done in a subtle way that I didn't pick up on. Subtlety is difficult to do in film. Often a point is either too subtle that it goes unnoticed or the audience feels they are beaten over the head with it. One extreme or the other. Some people may feel differently about the ending of the film than I do.
Regardless, I did enjoy it and definitely recommend seeing it on the big screen.

A weekend of breakthroughs

2009-10-13T14:15:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I participated in an all weekend workshop called The Mastery. The man leading The Mastery is my acting coach, Van Brooks. It wasn't specifically an acting workshop, though the focus was on creativity in performance, and the people attending were all performers. The skills worked on in this workshop can equally be applied to creativity in the arts or just creativity in life.

It's been quite awhile since I have been on stage doing any performance. And I miss it. A lot. The ten years I spent performing with The Satan's Cheerleaders were not only the most fun but the most important years of my life in terms of building up a foundation of confidence in who I was as a person. I found out I had more in me than I had ever thought possible before. And if it wasn't for those girls I might have stayed walking the very very dark path I was on. But there was definitely a plateau for me creatively. My sister has been extremely important in me getting to the next level by encouraging my writing. And I'm getting a lot of positive feedback about it. But it was important for me to take my creativity, both in life and specifically performance, up to anther level. And I think I have taken the first few steps to doing that just this weekend.

It was an emotional roller coaster, literally. Moving from anger to love to sorrow to joy all in the span of an hour. And revealing these parts of ourselves to a group of people we didn't know. A group of people who are all there together and supporting each other in their creative endeavors, without judgement. It's a powerful thing, knowing that you can creatively go anywhere, and see what happens, without fear of judgement. Just knowing that it is what it is. In performance it is extremely liberating to know that you can try things, anything really, just to see if they work or not, and no one that is watching is going to think you are stupid for doing it. On the contrary, they will admire your bravery for trying something new. I kept finding myself admiring everyone as they bared their souls to us and started breaking down their personal barriers.

Through dancing I have known what it feels like to be totally committed to the moment. But I have never been able to do that while singing or performing dialogue or any kind of skit. I was always hyper aware of being watched and so I always performed things timidly or in the way I thought they should be done.
But on the last day of the workshop, I could feel myself completely committed to the moment and connected with my fellow actors. I know what it feels like now to have honesty in my performance instead of just playing a part. And the fact that I know now that I can do it means more to me than anything.

I still have a long road to walk. The road never ends really. But I think it's going to get more interesting from here on in. I have a screenplay to finish and I am inspired now to finish it. That is the most pressing matter right now. But beyond that I have new ways to think about myself and my creative processes and how they fit into this world. I have the confidence to pursue creative avenues that I always wanted to do before but was always too scared to just do it. Scared of failure, scared of success. Scared of the responsibility success might bring (that's a big one).

Something I find very interesting is that much of what is talked about in the workshop regarding judgement, creativity and responsibility very much jives with the Buddhist perspective of life. We are responsible for everything in our own lives. We are responsible for everything we come into contact with. Judgement is just a mental construct built out of our perception of the world and our perception is just that, our perception. It is not reality. And we cannot know what anyone else in the world is thinking. It is not possible and it is not important. Thoughts are just thoughts. They say more about the person thinking them (or saying them) than they do about those the thoughts are about.

After the workshop was over on Sunday I couldn't hang around and socialize with all my new friends (and they are my friends now). I had to go to work, directly. Stepping into the insanity of the Alamo bar and kitchen, after leaving the warm, safe room of growth and creativity, was like jumping into an ice cold lake after a nice soak in the hot springs. It took me forever to gain my bearings. I felt like I was in everyone's way for awhile. I wasn't meshing with the unconscious system that develops during the work day. Like jumping into a mosh pit without having heard any of the bands songs yet. But after an hour or so I started to slip into it and everything ran smoothly after that.

Two days later and my inspiration and motivation have not subsided. My focus is to not slip back into old patterns. Patterns that allowed me to be lazy on my days off and avoid writing. This week my goal is to finish the second outline of Act II of my screen play and compare the two outlines I have and make a decision regarding the direction I want to go with it. And then, guess what? Then I have to actually write Act II. Fuck yeah!

Weird things my cat does

2009-10-08T17:39:00.001-07:00

So it's been about six weeks since I got the new kitty and she's still awesome, though jumping onto Steven's leather studio chair with her claws has done a bit of damage. We just need to be diligent about clipping those razor claws.

Here are some funny behaviors Steven and I have noticed in the last few weeks.
We both have late schedules so we tend to sleep late. Alice likes to come in and start snuggling around 9:30 am. She will curl up between the two of us, or sometimes almost directly on my head, and start purring really loud. She'll then proceed to walk all over us several times and lick our faces each time she passes. This apparently means it is time to get up and feed her because as soon as we make a move to get out of bed she runs to her food bowl.

During showers she will usually climb up between the inner and outer shower curtain and just sit there, sometimes batting at a bead of water as it trickles down the clear plastic. But after I get out of the shower she jumps right into the tub and starts lapping up little pools of water and grooming herself. It's as if she knows the water on her paws will help in this process.

Most of the time she will not curl up and go to sleep on either me or Steven. But she will curl into a ball on our lap or chest or neck (when we are lying down) and then proceed to attempt to milk herself. Yes, that's right, my kitten sucks her own nipples. And is really noisy about it too. And she purrs like mad when she does it. I'm not exactly sure how to break her of this habit, or if I even need to.

She's also taken to sleeping in Steven's leather office chair while we are watching movies. It is apparently the perfect kitty bed. It is also the same color as she is so if we don't know she is there we can almost not even see her since we usually watch movies with the lights out. I wish she wanted to curl up with us, but its really nice that she wants to be in the same room.

Finally, and this one is really freakin' hilarious, as soon as she is done using the litter box (which is a covered one we keep in an open utility closet), she jumps out and bolts as fast as she can to the other side of the room. This happens every single time she uses the litter box. I can only assume it is a survival instinct that is triggered by her being in a blind box to do her business and not knowing what might be lurking outside of it.

Anyway, Alice is still awesome and loves the little mouse toys I've bought for her. She is so amazingly adorable when she is carrying one around in her mouth, all proud of her kill. But I probably needn't have bothered since she seems to love playing with rubber bands just as much as her mouse toys. She LOVES them!

Update

2009-10-06T15:12:00.001-07:00

So I haven't been posting because I haven't really been doing anything. I've been working and watching lots of movies mostly. I worked as a driver for Fantastic Fest, the Austin horror/sci-fi/fantasy film festival hosted by The Alamo Drafthouse last week. I picked up a bunch of filmmakers and actors from the airport, but unfortunately not the ones I had hoped (that being Sam Rockwell and Germain Clement). I did, however, see them do a great panel about their movie, Gentlemen Broncos, at Book People. Sadly the reviews coming in for the movie are not good.
The best part though was when I got paid to take some filmmakers to go floating down the Comal River in New Braunfels and drink beer. That was great:-)

What I haven't been doing is writing. I think I have been subconsciously avoiding it because I don't really know what to do next. I have an outline for Act II but I need to do another since there are 2 ways I feel it could go. I need to make a writing schedule because it seems that otherwise I just find ways to avoid it.

Oh yeah... I have been making some progress in my classes. I am on week four of my acting class. Last week we had to write our own scene and then have other actors in the class perform it. My scene was about vampires. It was the only even remotely fantastical scene in the class. Everyone else went with realism. I still don't know if I am any good but I feel like I'm getting better. We'll see how it goes tonight.

And my stunt class is progressing as well, though I had to miss this last weekend due to work commitments. The week before I started learning how to do back handsprings. Something I've wanted to do since I took gymnastics as a child but never succeeded at. I'm super close and hopefully will be able to do it without a spotter by this weekend.

At the film festival I saw the District B13 sequel: District 13 Ultimatum. It was amazing! The creator of Parkour is the star (David Belle) and the stunts and fight sequences in that film are incredible... nay, not incredible... their SICK man, just SICK! And I mean that in the street slang way, in case you couldn't figure that out;-)

It got me thinking about the direction I need to start going in stunt class. Jumps, lots of fun fun jumps. And weapons. I need to start bringing practice weapons to work on fun fun fight stuff!

So that is all for now. Class, work, avoiding writing, and movies. I'm working on the avoiding writing thing and hopefully will have something to show for it by the end of the week.

Rearranging...

2009-09-19T15:01:00.000-07:00

This week has been a week of ups and downs. Today was a good day. I watched Alice completely demolish yet another feather toy then move on to a literal game of cat and mouse with a neon green and yellow mouse toy. I smiled happily as she jumped on, around and over things, squeaking her little squeak each time she hit the floor when jumping from sufficient height (3 feet or more).
Steven and I had a nice drive up to Fry's where we bought some power adapters and an SPDIF adapter to go along with our new Airport Express so I can stream my music library to his awesome surround sound speakers instead of just listening through my computers speakers.
And then we turned Alice's whole world upside down by rearranging the living room so that we could have easier access to our bikes and the stereo would be in a good position.
The living room looks great, has a better flow, and I enjoy sitting in here and working much better than before. Maybe there really is something to the Feng Shui thing;-)

So now I have about 30 minutes before I have to be at work and Alice is doing laps around the house. I've strategically placed her kitty condo right behind the living room futon but also right by the sliding glass doors so she can use it as both an obstacle course for her daily work outs and a resting place to see the outside from. She totally digs it. And so do I.

Future stunt-person!

2009-09-08T09:49:00.001-07:00

So this past Sunday I went to my first stunt class taught by Richard Hancock who has been a professional film stunt man for about 30 years. We started out with some basic punching and kicking moves, learning how to keep the camera in mind and where to aim (hint: it's not at the actor's face). Then we moved on to some basic tumbling... front and back rolls, dive rolls, cartwheels, round-offs... that sort of thing. Easy peasy for someone like me:-)
Then we did some jump rolls (jumping from about a 4 1/2 foot height and then rolling out of it). That was fun. The floor was springy so it didn't upset my knees at all.
Then we had about thirty minutes to work on whatever we liked. I worked on some falls on the trampoline and tried to roll into a head stand backwards (I was unsuccessful). I practiced some double smash and spinning kicks (they need some work). And I watched this really awesome guy, Aaron, do some butterfly kicks and back handsprings (which ended in a spinny thing as he drove his elbow into the ground... can't wait till I can do that!).

And in the last 30 minutes of the 2 hour class we did conditioning. Now I've been staying in pretty good shape from riding my bike everywhere, but where my legs are strong my upper body is weak. And this conditioning portion kicked my ass! We did these squat things (I forget what they are actually called) where you hold the dumbbells (20 lbs each in my case) and lift them off the floor, first using your legs, then straigtening your back and springing the dumbbells into an upright position near your shoulders, elbows bent). We did this 10 times, then did 10 pushups. We were supposed to do this set 10 times, I made it to 6 before I couldn't even hold the dumbbells anymore.

I worked out muscle groups in this class that I haven't used probably since the end of cheerleading and kung fu (circa 2007). So needless to say I woke up in a world of pain the next day. A good pain, but pain none the less. I had to push myself up off the bed in the morning with my arms because my other muscles couldn't do it on their own.
Now I was SUPPOSED to work a double ticket shift at the Drafthouse yesterday (Monday), which would have been awesome since all I do is sit there and sell tickets and talk to patrons all day. However, when I arrived it turned out that my manager had a low grade fever and we were short a runner. So the manager took over ticket duties while I had to run food. So not only did every muscle in my body ache and quake as I went up and down the stairs with trays of food, but I wasn't wearing the right shoes or pants. The soles of my shoes are starting to come off so I almost tripped several times and then I started sweating and overheating and nearly had a crying fit. At this point I took a breather and used an ice pack on my neck. Crisis averted.
Then the kitchen made us cookies and it was much better after that (sugar!!! yay!!!!)
Thankfully all of our second shift runners showed up and I was back on tickets (whew!).

I'm a little less sore today but not much. I have a runner shift starting at 3pm. Hopefully I'll get cut early since I'll be one of the first ones there. I still can't decide if I'm going to ride or take the bus. I should probably ride... the weather is nice and I need to work out the soreness.

I can't wait to go to the next stunt class (every sunday). I already learned how to do a few things I couldn't do before. Can't wait to see what happens next!

Introducing...

2009-09-08T09:24:00.000-07:00

Alice Shadow Coltrane Brown!

She is a three and a half month old Bombay mix we rescued from the Humane Society. After only three days with her we are already certain that we made the perfect choice. She does all the awesome things that kittens do, including chasing the red dot from the laser pointer (relentlessly I might add), and none of the crappy things that kittens do, like pooping outside their litter box and tearing up the carpet.
She's super affectionate and playful and doesn't scratch up Steven's leather couch.
And she likes to play the keyboards too (I'll upload that photo as soon as I get it from Steven) which is what inspired the Alice Coltrane part of her name.
On top of that she looks almost exactly like Shadow, has the same kind of coat (silky black and shiny) and has many of her mannerisms too. That wasn't exactly intentional but they are the same breed and the personality traits are pretty common for that breed. Both Steven and I have caught ourselves calling her Shadow more than once so we thought it only appropriate to add it to her name.
Unfortunately Alice Coltrane Ackbar Brown was voted down by Steven (I was desperately trying to get a Star Wars reference in there somewhere... here were some of the others: Alice Coltrane Calrissian Brown, Alice Coltrane Yavin Brown and Alice Cotrane Vadar Brown.... the Admiral Ackbar reference, however, is still my fave!).

Hurty hands

2009-09-03T17:04:00.000-07:00

Wow, I just finished the first draft of Act I of my screenplay. Since I'm sans software right now I'm actually writing by hand. So my hand hurts but I'm actually enjoying it. I haven't written using a pen and paper in ages.

I think the draft is a little long. May have to cut some things, but I'll see once I transcribe it. A lot of it is simply descriptions of the settings and the actions that are going on, which really will take up no time at all.

But all in all I feel pretty good about it. It took me three days off of work to do this (after I laid out everything using index cards... I love index cards).

Three days of straight writing. It just poured out. I knew exactly how I wanted to work in all the changes. And the dialogue came nice and easy (for the most part).

Next I'll be doing some more reading (in a few of the excellent books my sister gave me, thanks!). Then I'll lay out either Act II or Act III, not sure which yet, and write that one.

Act II will be the most complicated for certain, and I more or less already know what happens in Act III.

I also know that when I transcribe it into Final Draft there will be some changes, mostly in the way I have described things. My descriptions are a little clunky right now and could be changed to flow more smoothly I think.

Never in my life have I felt so good about what I was doing. I love it.

What have I been up to?

2009-08-30T13:25:00.001-07:00

Here are a few photos of what I have been up to lately...

This is the "raw" tiremisu I just made. The base is ground cashew and pecan, then a filling made of blended cashew, banana, vanilla, coconut oil and agave nectar. On top of that I layered a powder I made from cashews and cacao nibs (ground in a coffee grinder)... Then I added another layer of the cashew-pecan mix, banana filling and cacao/cashews and topped it off with a sprinkling of cacao powder and cinnamon. It's in the fridge now waiting to be ready for eating!

Last night I went to an art show where one of my best friends in the world had a piece in the collection. Here he is with his art right above him:
And the two of us hangin' out...

Me and Steven at the art show:
And I thought I'd just throw this in there. This is where Steven and I spend most of our time... watching movies. I took this photo in a dark room with no flash after I discovered the ISO 3200 setting on my camera...

As for my screenplay, I've laid out all my scenes for Act I. I've written a character biography as well as explanations for certain things that happen in the film (since there are some sci-fi elements to it I felt it important to know what the processes were for certain things that are important to the plot).

Since I don't yet own a copy of Final Draft, and I'm pretty much ready to start the actual writing of Act I, I'll be kickin' it old school and writing it by hand. I bought some legal pads today just for this purpose.

I'll probably do Act III next. Act II will be the longest and most difficult section and since I already know what happens at the beginning and the end I figure I can go ahead and write them, and make any necessary changes later.

Fears

2009-08-24T17:13:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about fear. It's all around me. It's inside me.
I watched a video online the other day and evaluated my emotional response to it. It evoked fear (in my opinion through manipulation of the facts, but that is neither here nor there). The point is that the person who made the video is probably also fearful. A lot of people are fearful and they constantly REACT to it. I do it too, though less and less and time goes by.
There are a lot of things people are afraid of, whether justifiably or not. War, famine, poverty, lack of security, loss of control, loneliness, death, failure, success. The list goes on.

I'm afraid of loneliness and of failure. I've been reacting to that all my life. These last several years I've learned to evaluate my emotional responses to things as they are happening. I ask myself why I am reacting the way I am to this specific stimulus?
I've learned to see patterns in my behavior and have discovered that by just reacting all the time I am a slave to the situation. I am at it's mercy. I am being controlled by it, tugged in this way or that, like a marionette.
A wise friend of mine once told me to just cut all the strings. But in order to do that you have to know they are there, which is why I started this process of evaluating myself. And sometimes I am successful. Sometimes I can cut the strings and I can then move independently, from within, choosing freely to go one way or the other, no longer being tugged along just reacting to things, letting things just happen to me. Once the strings are cut it's just me that is making the decisions.

I'm now over halfway through Screenplay by Syd Field and I can't tell you how many times he stresses the fact that characters must not just passively react to their situations. They must DRIVE the screenplay forward, BE the action. And the writer must be able to make choices without reacting to or being controlled by circumstances. If that happens the writer will inevitably get stuck in a quagmire of her own making.
So I have discovered a specific instance where art imitates life. How boring would a movie be if the main character just reacted to everything, had no say in their own actions or responses? That character would be pathetic (of course if the movie was about this person overcoming this personality trait then that could be something interesting).

I see people who live this way. They are boring people. And I think they are incredibly unhappy people. I think some of these people are in places of significant power and authority (quite possibly their fears have driven them to seek these positions under the illusion that when attained their fears will go away... but they don't because that is not how it works).
I don't know if it is possible to completely get over fear. Humans are probably just wired that way. I do know that people can learn to evaluate their fears and understand them, and eventually get to a place where their fear no longer controls them and they no longer exist in this cycle of reaction against them. People can be masters of their own destiny.
I know because I'm learning to do just that.

This post was kind of all over the place. It didn't really turn out how I wanted it to. But also I wasn't really sure where to start or what I really wanted to say. Things have been happening around me, things I have no control over and things I don't want to discuss (it would be too difficult to make logical sense of it on a blog anyway). The actual events don't matter, it could have been anything. I found myself reacting to these situations in many ways... defensively, studiously, pragmatically, begrudgingly, stubbornly. It made me realize I have a long way to go in mastering my fears.

Two movies

2009-08-20T09:45:00.000-07:00

I saw two movies last night. One of them was EXCELLENT! And I will probably be watching it several times again in the future.
The other one, well, I can't quite decide if it is the worst movie I have ever seen or not. I spent several minutes last night trying to figure out what movies I have seen that are worse. I couldn't come up with very many.
So yeah, without further ado, here they are:

1) The Boat That Rocked, written and directed by Richard Curtis (Love Actually, Four Weddings and a Funeral), was excellent. Great story, excellent performances (I think the only 2 famous British actors that weren't in this movie were Daniel Craig and Ralph Fiennes), and an amazing soundtrack. It's the story of a pirate radio station in the 1960's that broadcasted out of the North Sea and was listened to by over half of England's population (and how the government tried to shut it down). Highly recommended!

2) The Informers, based on a collection of short stories by Bret Easton Ellis... despite a cast of great (and not so great) actors, this whole thing just did not work. I'm sure the individual stories they were based on were quite good (I like Easton Ellis as a writer and some of his film adaptations were really good), but man oh man did this movie suck. There were 4 or 5 story lines, the only thing connecting them all was a loose affiliation between some of the characters (apparently the fact that a character in each story knew a character in another story was sufficient to link them all together in the filmmaker's eyes... FYI, it wasn't). The only thing this movie said to me was that the only thing worse than rich people are their fucking self-entitled kids.

August 17th...

2009-08-16T21:49:00.000-07:00

So the outline of the book is done as well as the flow chart (so I can look at the action that happens in both story lines).
I'm now reading Screenplay by Syd Field. I skipped ahead to the Adaptation chapter and it has been a bit enlightening, but mostly it is stuff I seem to have known intuitively (e.g. cutting out scenes, inventing dialogue, staying true to the story and theme but not getting caught up in trying to stay too true to the novel, etc).
I'm beginning to see how difficult it really is to adapt a novel though. The process of making the decisions of what stays, what goes, what gets added or not in order to make the narrative work on a visual level instead of a literary one, is going to be a lengthy one and probably a bit traumatic as I simultaneously tear apart and build anew a story that I am so in awe of.

I don't know if I'll ever actually try to sell this screenplay. I'd like to but mostly it is going to be used to try and get in to graduate school. In order to actually try and sell it I'd have to see if anyone already has the rights to this book (I already know that there are no current or past projects on this specific title). If some company does own the rights then maybe I can sell the screenplay to those people (though that is a bit far fetched I think). If nobody has the rights then I would have to talk to the publisher about it and get permission. But that is getting WAY ahead of myself (though honestly I'd be surprised if the film rights to this book were not available).
Regardless, even in these nascent stages I feel like I've learned a lot but still have a long way to go. The story of my life really.

Making progress

2009-08-07T12:07:00.000-07:00

The outline to my pending screenplay is coming along. It's an adaptation of a novel (I'm not saying which one). So right now I'm rereading the novel and making an outline of all the action. There are two concurrent story lines, one existing in the real world over a span of about 4 days, the other existing in the main characters subconscious over the period of 3 seasons (autumn, winter and spring). If you have read the book you will probably know by now what it is;-)

Anyway, I'm just about done with the outline. I'm enjoying reading the book again and picking it apart. Finding out what is important, what isn't important. Interpreting the story and discovering its meaning. I've been doing this consistently for the last two days straight and it doesn't even feel remotely like work. In fact I feel kinda lazy even though I've been getting a lot done. I'm breaking a mental sweat but not a physical one. And I'm not stressed out, at all. Which is awesome.

One more day, maybe two and the outline should be done. Then I'll take apart the two story lines and make a flow chart of the action. See how the two stories mirror each other. How best to fit them together in one narrative. Then I'll make an outline of how I think the story will best play out in a screenplay.

Once that is done I'll write a treatment. I hope to have this done by the end of August, if not sooner. Then September will be the month to get to the actual script writing, so I need to do much more research on that process this month as well.

All in all I'm really enjoying this process so far. I have tons of ideas. I can see so much of it clearly in my head already.
One weird thing that is happening is that I'm also starting to have ideas for the comic book I've been wanting to write for ages but I can't really seem to work on both projects concurrently. I keep notes of my ideas for that too, but I have to kind of shove that to the back of my head for now and dedicate myself to this one project or both of them might suffer.
But it's good to know that one process seems to be inspiring the other.

Cheesecake and sunsets

2009-08-05T10:06:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to post the photos of how the cheesecake ultimately turned out yesterday. If you didn't know better you would think this was actual cheesecake (not just by looking at it... it tasted like cheesecake too!):

Also, we had the most amazing sunset the other day. I love living in Texas!