So it's been a while since I've blogged.
And I've missed it.
More than I could have imagined.
What's been more interesting is the notion of how not writing for a few days has made me kinda, well, crazy. Perhaps more unsettled and discombobulated more than anything, but still. It's been kinda like what I imagine it means for someone to go off their meds. I don't mean to diminish the affect of medication for serious psychological issues, but it doesn't feel too far off on some level. I get all weepy and feel sorry for myself and don't want to go places and generally am not so fun to be around... Which is unfortunate for everyone (including me) because on my better days, I'm a pretty happy, insightful gal.
So why haven't I been writing? A couple of reasons. One, I just finished another draft of my manuscript and felt the need to take a mental rest while I wait for comments from a few smart readers. Also, I've been feeling the need to ramp up my job search considerably, endlessly combing the bowels of the internet for opportunities that match my unusual experience and skill set. Not that I think this is a bad idea, and it certainly has reduced my stress-level in that area. However, at the end of the day, the tangible outcome is difficult to qualify. I come to believe that halting the writing process is the more "responsible" thing to do, that it is something that I can come back to once I get myself "settled."
What I fail to realize, again and again, is just how unsettled I become. Ah, the irony. And it always takes me more than a few days of flailing to realize the source of my unrest. Part of me refuses to believe that something as simple as a post about a common pop song, or the edit of a sublimely perfect word, or 500 words on a local happening, or even an in-depth email can keep the existential what's-it-all-mean / why-bother-when-there's-so-much suffering dogs at bay.
Oh, but how it does.
Which gets me thinking about the emotional lives of those who chose to surround themselves with art. Growing up, I often found much peace in simply being among my family and watching TV, or listening to records with my brother, or even the endless hours spent bonding with friends playing pool in my basement and watching music videos. As an adult, I am pleased to be considerably more active, but I'll admit I will refuse to pull a single weed in my yard or walk a single step around the park without my iPod firmly attached to my hip. I find it difficult to read a book without marking a passage and transcribing it in my journal. The other night I forced myself to go to the Ohio Theater to see Some Like it Hot, and left the place postively gleeful.
Occasionally, I am suspicious. Surely this kind of delight can be achieved in other ways - human contact, comes to mind. And I have plenty of that in my life. Perhaps art "is" human contact, only delayed. Someone you've never met has a particular talent and has an experience. She writes a song about that experience, sitting alone in a room. Months later, an assembled team of highly skilled professionals have thier own experience crafting those songs into an album. A year later, a thousand miles away, one of those songs is chosen as a prom theme. Fifteen years later, that songwriter grows cynical and fades into obscurity. Until a filmmaker with a bit of a buzz, who hated the prom-song, but played the B-side over and over during his parents' divorce, offers the singer a chance to score a small but personal film that goes on to become the sleeper hit of a particular generation and inspires someone to write a book.
And on and on...
Of course, much of the above is high-level delusion. But I think smaller scales of that delusion is what keeps writers, painters, actors, musicians, and other creative people afloat. And sane. Until they decide they need to ditch it all in the name of responsibility. Not that being responsible isn't admirable. God knows irresponsible artists tend to turn into miserable dependents. And I know how lucky I am for the circumstances and advantages that allow me this kind of wandering existence without resorting to desperate measures. I just know for myself, when I get into a focused surge of needing to move into a new stage of my life, it is my creative side that often suffers most.
I just wish I'd keep forgetting this reality again and again.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Surfacing... or, perhaps, Blah Blah Blahblog...
After six weeks or so of a break, I'm anxious to get back to emerging into my world of pop culture musings random observations.
I hope.
I've spent this time off working extraordinarily hard on a third draft of a manuscript I'd hoped to have been completed, but am not quite there. I am pretty proud nonetheless. My brain is truly jello but hope that means I've mined my noggin of some riches.
We'll see.
In the meantime, I'm on my way to Louisville (the place where I attended graduate school) to cheer on some friends who are completing their final leg of their own Master's Degree journey.
BTW - CAPA came out with their summer movie series list early this year. There are some goodies, including Singing in the Rain, a couple of Buster Keaton shorts, and Some Like it Hot.
I'll definitely hit the ground running with those when I get back.
I hope.
I've spent this time off working extraordinarily hard on a third draft of a manuscript I'd hoped to have been completed, but am not quite there. I am pretty proud nonetheless. My brain is truly jello but hope that means I've mined my noggin of some riches.
We'll see.
In the meantime, I'm on my way to Louisville (the place where I attended graduate school) to cheer on some friends who are completing their final leg of their own Master's Degree journey.
BTW - CAPA came out with their summer movie series list early this year. There are some goodies, including Singing in the Rain, a couple of Buster Keaton shorts, and Some Like it Hot.
I'll definitely hit the ground running with those when I get back.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Blog Hiatus?
When I originally signed myself up to blog (after thinking about it for a few years and, instead, getting others interested in blogging), what made me hesitate for so long was my own disappointment in reading blogs that just kinda "stopped." I felt duped. Here I'd been invested, on-board, if you will, with the writer, willing to engage in whatever came along.
Having this blog has been important to my growth as a writer.
My goal has always been to update every five days. Lately, I've been falling short. For good reason. I'm about half-way through a third draft of a full-length manuscript. What initially started as a look inside my experience of having lost my brother, is beginning to morph into a broader "family's response to illness." Despite the heavy themes, there is a healthy dose of humor and a, perhaps inevitable, pop-culture thread.
So I've decided to let myself off the hook for a bit with the blog, in order to put my head where it wants to be.
And hope to return soon-ish...
Having this blog has been important to my growth as a writer.
My goal has always been to update every five days. Lately, I've been falling short. For good reason. I'm about half-way through a third draft of a full-length manuscript. What initially started as a look inside my experience of having lost my brother, is beginning to morph into a broader "family's response to illness." Despite the heavy themes, there is a healthy dose of humor and a, perhaps inevitable, pop-culture thread.
So I've decided to let myself off the hook for a bit with the blog, in order to put my head where it wants to be.
And hope to return soon-ish...
Monday, April 5, 2010
Things I Learned About LA While in LA
Two weeks ago, I went out to LA on a sort of favor/job/adventure combo I couldn't pass up. It was a great opportunity to get some work done on my manuscript (which I did, despite the close proximity to cable, and my tendency to get sucked into it...) At the same time, I got to experience a particular sort of culture foreign to my daily life without feeling like I was merely a "tourist."
Turns out, I really love going into a completely new environment all alone. Despite an inevitable loneliness that eventually creeps in, there is a jolt of satisfaction that comes with getting acclimated. Every time I try to figure out my "tendencies," I've found them to often to be contradictory. Adaptive as I am to change, I am also highly grounded in the repetition of routine
What happens, then, when I find myself drawn with excitement to a new territory, is I spend an accelerated amount of energy getting myself settled. I become hyper-aware of my surroundings. Part of this is out of a feeling of safety, knowing, for instance, keys locked inside a car 1000 miles away from home becomes a much bigger issue than merely in the grocery store parking lot in one's own neighborhood. Another reason is the perpetual ticking clock. Knowing I might not pass this way again, I ever-aware of wasting my time (except, as noted, when it comes to the taunts of free cable... I'm not proud...)
So, while in LA, I bought a map, found a local coffee shop, and got to work. I was staying in a modest, yet hip (read, not extravagant yet not scary) neighborhood called Los Feliz. For anyone who remembers the movie Swingers, it was where the Derby, The Dresden Room, and much of the apartment scenes were shot. It also happens to only be a few miles from Hollywood Blvd and the Sunset Strip. Because I didn't want to be driving around and going into places alone at night (and because the sun didn't hit the glass front of the house I was staying until the late afternoon and tended to be cold in the morning) I'd do most of my "sight seeing" during the day.
Here's what I discovered:
- At any given time, you can find one of the following bands playing on an LA radio station - The Doors, Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, or Red Hot Chili Peppers.
- Skinny jeans and retro black plastic frame glasses don't seem to be going out of style anytime soon.
- Celebrity awareness is heightened. Even though I didn't spot a single celebrity, I felt constantly aware there were famous people everywhere, doing ordinary, everyday things. Now I understand why those first couple of pages of US magazine where Tobey Maguire is shown buying coffee are so popular. I never quite understood, and I'm not particularly proud of it, but there is a certainly an inertia to the culture that permeates the city.
- 1967 is alive and well in LA. I went to Venice Beach one afternoon and saw a sea of RVs awash with psychedelic markings. I find it interesting that in the 80s, Hippies had gone from being a youth-culture thing to being an amusing stereotype. You'd think that area, then would shift and become some epitome of "the last generation," like guys with tube socks and mullets and girls in pinstripe jeans and neon tops. But no. It's the 1960s forever at Venice Beach, baby.
- "Landmarks" aren't nearly as impressive as you'd think. The Capital Records building (which graces the cover of much of their product) is teeny and Chateau Marmont is disappointingly close to a McDonald's. I did manage to take a tour of the Kodak Theater (where the Oscars are held.) It was awesome. In a place where the souvenir shops still trade heavily in cheesey Marilyn Monroe memorabilia, it was really nice to see elegant photographs of some of the understated winners. The auditorium was under construction (Cirque du Soleil was digging a fifty-foot hole into the stage for their upcoming ten-year stay), but we did get to go out on into a box and walk through the hallway where the recipients go right after they win. That was cool...
I'm sure there are plenty of "non-industry" sites to indulge here in the City of Angels, but I'm afraid they will have to wait until my next jaunt out West. Or perhaps I'll next find myself with an opportunity to "help out" somewhere in Connecticut. I hear it's lovely there...
Turns out, I really love going into a completely new environment all alone. Despite an inevitable loneliness that eventually creeps in, there is a jolt of satisfaction that comes with getting acclimated. Every time I try to figure out my "tendencies," I've found them to often to be contradictory. Adaptive as I am to change, I am also highly grounded in the repetition of routine
What happens, then, when I find myself drawn with excitement to a new territory, is I spend an accelerated amount of energy getting myself settled. I become hyper-aware of my surroundings. Part of this is out of a feeling of safety, knowing, for instance, keys locked inside a car 1000 miles away from home becomes a much bigger issue than merely in the grocery store parking lot in one's own neighborhood. Another reason is the perpetual ticking clock. Knowing I might not pass this way again, I ever-aware of wasting my time (except, as noted, when it comes to the taunts of free cable... I'm not proud...)
So, while in LA, I bought a map, found a local coffee shop, and got to work. I was staying in a modest, yet hip (read, not extravagant yet not scary) neighborhood called Los Feliz. For anyone who remembers the movie Swingers, it was where the Derby, The Dresden Room, and much of the apartment scenes were shot. It also happens to only be a few miles from Hollywood Blvd and the Sunset Strip. Because I didn't want to be driving around and going into places alone at night (and because the sun didn't hit the glass front of the house I was staying until the late afternoon and tended to be cold in the morning) I'd do most of my "sight seeing" during the day.
Here's what I discovered:
- At any given time, you can find one of the following bands playing on an LA radio station - The Doors, Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, or Red Hot Chili Peppers.
- Skinny jeans and retro black plastic frame glasses don't seem to be going out of style anytime soon.
- Celebrity awareness is heightened. Even though I didn't spot a single celebrity, I felt constantly aware there were famous people everywhere, doing ordinary, everyday things. Now I understand why those first couple of pages of US magazine where Tobey Maguire is shown buying coffee are so popular. I never quite understood, and I'm not particularly proud of it, but there is a certainly an inertia to the culture that permeates the city.
- 1967 is alive and well in LA. I went to Venice Beach one afternoon and saw a sea of RVs awash with psychedelic markings. I find it interesting that in the 80s, Hippies had gone from being a youth-culture thing to being an amusing stereotype. You'd think that area, then would shift and become some epitome of "the last generation," like guys with tube socks and mullets and girls in pinstripe jeans and neon tops. But no. It's the 1960s forever at Venice Beach, baby.
- "Landmarks" aren't nearly as impressive as you'd think. The Capital Records building (which graces the cover of much of their product) is teeny and Chateau Marmont is disappointingly close to a McDonald's. I did manage to take a tour of the Kodak Theater (where the Oscars are held.) It was awesome. In a place where the souvenir shops still trade heavily in cheesey Marilyn Monroe memorabilia, it was really nice to see elegant photographs of some of the understated winners. The auditorium was under construction (Cirque du Soleil was digging a fifty-foot hole into the stage for their upcoming ten-year stay), but we did get to go out on into a box and walk through the hallway where the recipients go right after they win. That was cool...
I'm sure there are plenty of "non-industry" sites to indulge here in the City of Angels, but I'm afraid they will have to wait until my next jaunt out West. Or perhaps I'll next find myself with an opportunity to "help out" somewhere in Connecticut. I hear it's lovely there...
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Cheater Post from LA
I'd planned on shooting off some occasional updates from my West Coast adventure, but I've managed to develop a bit of a groove in in working on my manuscript and don't want to interrupt that...
Once I got over my initial hyper-alert state - making sure I didn't lock myself out of the house, or lose the animals, or flip the car driving up vertical surfaces, making sure I avoided sketchy areas of town - I've managed to settle into a bit of a routine. I've managed to find my way around the local "strip" (remember the Dresden Room and the Derby from Swingers? That area.) I get some writing started and people-watch. I've also been taking little mini-drives to get acclimated. I've been up and down the Sunset Strip and Hollywood Blvd. While it make seem less than the "LA experience," to see these places at 10:00 in the morning, but it's not like I'm about to hang out at the Whiskey A-Go-Go at night by myself. Being in early I avoid the risk of getting run down by Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears...
The afternoon is when the sun comes in the brightest through the windows, a good time to get settled in a chair.
Oh, I did find out that the Kodak Theater (the one where the Oscars take place) have a tour. Cheesey as the other tourist-y stuff can be, I cannot miss that one.
Okay, so maybe not the cheater post I'd originally thought, but perhaps less organized than I'd intended...
Once I got over my initial hyper-alert state - making sure I didn't lock myself out of the house, or lose the animals, or flip the car driving up vertical surfaces, making sure I avoided sketchy areas of town - I've managed to settle into a bit of a routine. I've managed to find my way around the local "strip" (remember the Dresden Room and the Derby from Swingers? That area.) I get some writing started and people-watch. I've also been taking little mini-drives to get acclimated. I've been up and down the Sunset Strip and Hollywood Blvd. While it make seem less than the "LA experience," to see these places at 10:00 in the morning, but it's not like I'm about to hang out at the Whiskey A-Go-Go at night by myself. Being in early I avoid the risk of getting run down by Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears...
The afternoon is when the sun comes in the brightest through the windows, a good time to get settled in a chair.
Oh, I did find out that the Kodak Theater (the one where the Oscars take place) have a tour. Cheesey as the other tourist-y stuff can be, I cannot miss that one.
Okay, so maybe not the cheater post I'd originally thought, but perhaps less organized than I'd intended...
Monday, March 15, 2010
Learning to Embrace My Ridiculous Life
I'm sure I am not alone in my struggle in trying to balance a life anchored in practical responsibility but fueled by passionate adventure. The slightest shift toward either extreme can instantly throw me into a state of pre-occupation of determining what level is right for me.
When I landed a new job back in November, my life swung wildly toward the former. I was completely fine with this, as I'd been flailing, vocationally, for quite some time. But perhaps my attraction to this new job was too broad. I awoke each day, continually fascinated by the thrill of prepping for my day (did I mention it had been a while since I'd had regular, day-to-day employment...)
I found comfort in preparing my lunch, in filling up my messenger bag, in having just enough time to check my email before I left for the day. I reveled in my 3.9 mile drive, that there was exactly enough time to go to the gym and back during lunch. I liked that I had managed to develop "work relationships" beyond my small department so quickly - with the shipping/receiving guy and the HR lady. The use of a MacBook Pro that I could take home with me each night and over the weekend was a lovely perk.
There is nothing wrong with any of these fascinations, I know. However, none of this had anything to do with the job that I was hired to do. Not that I think this is why I lost my job. What happened was not my fault. However, I am willing to accept that the universe might just be nudging me out of a professional career in marketing... The jury is still out on that.
Where does that leave me? For now, I'm attempting to embrace the "adventure" side. Not that I don't do this, but I'm rarely able to do so without some significant justification, trepidation, and more than a hint of misplaced guilt and fear.
So when a friend from graduate school offered to fly me out to LA to pet set for eleven days while she is out of the country, I said, "Hell Yea." This is not to say that I plan to set up a bi-coastal doggie daycare or anything. But I do plan to take a copy of my manuscript and see if the sun and surf (did I mention she lives on the beach...) will stir up some inspiration.
When I landed a new job back in November, my life swung wildly toward the former. I was completely fine with this, as I'd been flailing, vocationally, for quite some time. But perhaps my attraction to this new job was too broad. I awoke each day, continually fascinated by the thrill of prepping for my day (did I mention it had been a while since I'd had regular, day-to-day employment...)
I found comfort in preparing my lunch, in filling up my messenger bag, in having just enough time to check my email before I left for the day. I reveled in my 3.9 mile drive, that there was exactly enough time to go to the gym and back during lunch. I liked that I had managed to develop "work relationships" beyond my small department so quickly - with the shipping/receiving guy and the HR lady. The use of a MacBook Pro that I could take home with me each night and over the weekend was a lovely perk.
There is nothing wrong with any of these fascinations, I know. However, none of this had anything to do with the job that I was hired to do. Not that I think this is why I lost my job. What happened was not my fault. However, I am willing to accept that the universe might just be nudging me out of a professional career in marketing... The jury is still out on that.
Where does that leave me? For now, I'm attempting to embrace the "adventure" side. Not that I don't do this, but I'm rarely able to do so without some significant justification, trepidation, and more than a hint of misplaced guilt and fear.
So when a friend from graduate school offered to fly me out to LA to pet set for eleven days while she is out of the country, I said, "Hell Yea." This is not to say that I plan to set up a bi-coastal doggie daycare or anything. But I do plan to take a copy of my manuscript and see if the sun and surf (did I mention she lives on the beach...) will stir up some inspiration.
Monday, March 8, 2010
And the Winner Is...
The good news is, I won't have to boycott the Oscars. The bad news is, my attempts at tipping the scale in Meryl Streep's honor were not successful.
This year's show itself was quite impressive, dare I state "one of the absolute best in recent history?" Despite the nominees and the general atmosphere surrounding event, the show itself can be hit or miss depending on who is producing. This year's producer was a keeper, indeed, and should serve as a model for future broadcasts.
The most impressive feat? An across-the-board elimination of all the eye-roll-inducing show fat. The worst offender, the Irving J. Thalberg award? Gone! Never mentioned. I would apologize to all of the Irving J. Thalberg fans out there if I believed there were any. I don't mean to dismiss the accomplishments of anyone who managed any sort of artist longevity out there, but seriously, if someone like me had to wikipedia this man and the person receiving the award, does it really belong in the last half hour of the show, between the Best Actor and Actress awards?
Whew. I've been waiting years to get that off my chest...
As for the dance numbers that are such easy targets, they were finally done right. I don't know how, but the opening number with Neil Patrick Harris and a cast of a couple hundred dancers managed to be both elegant and jaunty and lavish and precise all at the same time. And the decision to cut the live performances of each Best Song nominee and replace it with a dance montage to all of the nominated scores? Genius. Who knew you could break dance to the score of Avatar?
The fashion? Perfect. Lots of silvers and golds. Nothing too wacky. No yellow. Old-time elegance that seemed new. My favorite dress? Demi Moore.
And my favorite element, the speeches, didn't disappoint. Yes, there were the ramblers, the starstruck. (On a side note, my advice to future nominees, even if you think you will not win, prepare something. It's only a few minutes and it will be the clip they play when you die.) The first great line was by the co-writer of the Best Song who thanked his wife and said, "I love you more than rainbows, Baby." Awesome. And the guy who won Best Animated short said it took him six years to make the short, adding, "I hope to make a feature and come back in 36 years."
James Taylor singing the Beatles' "In My Life" during the In Memoriam? Perfection. As was the tribute to John Hughes.
I even (or, I guess, especially) loved the tribute to Horror. When I'd first heard about it, I was skeptical. I took is as another desperate attempt to appeal to a younger audience. Which it was, but the desperation fell away and a new generation of Academy Award fans was conceived.
The pairing up Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin was just as good as everyone suspected they would be. I hope they keep that going for many years.
The only negative thing I can say is, I was disappointed there were no surprises. Perhaps the day of the Oscar night surprise winner (the Halle Barry or Marissa Tomei or other underdog) is over. Perhaps this is simply a result of too much media exposure. I don't know. But I will miss it.
Oh, and did anyone notice they brought back the, "And the winner is..." which had been formally replaced by the PC-laden "And the Oscar goes to..." I think that's a good sign. Of what I don't know, but it feels supremely right...
This year's show itself was quite impressive, dare I state "one of the absolute best in recent history?" Despite the nominees and the general atmosphere surrounding event, the show itself can be hit or miss depending on who is producing. This year's producer was a keeper, indeed, and should serve as a model for future broadcasts.
The most impressive feat? An across-the-board elimination of all the eye-roll-inducing show fat. The worst offender, the Irving J. Thalberg award? Gone! Never mentioned. I would apologize to all of the Irving J. Thalberg fans out there if I believed there were any. I don't mean to dismiss the accomplishments of anyone who managed any sort of artist longevity out there, but seriously, if someone like me had to wikipedia this man and the person receiving the award, does it really belong in the last half hour of the show, between the Best Actor and Actress awards?
Whew. I've been waiting years to get that off my chest...
As for the dance numbers that are such easy targets, they were finally done right. I don't know how, but the opening number with Neil Patrick Harris and a cast of a couple hundred dancers managed to be both elegant and jaunty and lavish and precise all at the same time. And the decision to cut the live performances of each Best Song nominee and replace it with a dance montage to all of the nominated scores? Genius. Who knew you could break dance to the score of Avatar?
The fashion? Perfect. Lots of silvers and golds. Nothing too wacky. No yellow. Old-time elegance that seemed new. My favorite dress? Demi Moore.
And my favorite element, the speeches, didn't disappoint. Yes, there were the ramblers, the starstruck. (On a side note, my advice to future nominees, even if you think you will not win, prepare something. It's only a few minutes and it will be the clip they play when you die.) The first great line was by the co-writer of the Best Song who thanked his wife and said, "I love you more than rainbows, Baby." Awesome. And the guy who won Best Animated short said it took him six years to make the short, adding, "I hope to make a feature and come back in 36 years."
James Taylor singing the Beatles' "In My Life" during the In Memoriam? Perfection. As was the tribute to John Hughes.
I even (or, I guess, especially) loved the tribute to Horror. When I'd first heard about it, I was skeptical. I took is as another desperate attempt to appeal to a younger audience. Which it was, but the desperation fell away and a new generation of Academy Award fans was conceived.
The pairing up Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin was just as good as everyone suspected they would be. I hope they keep that going for many years.
The only negative thing I can say is, I was disappointed there were no surprises. Perhaps the day of the Oscar night surprise winner (the Halle Barry or Marissa Tomei or other underdog) is over. Perhaps this is simply a result of too much media exposure. I don't know. But I will miss it.
Oh, and did anyone notice they brought back the, "And the winner is..." which had been formally replaced by the PC-laden "And the Oscar goes to..." I think that's a good sign. Of what I don't know, but it feels supremely right...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)