Surfacing

I'm very tired, but seem to be coming through the most recent wave. Keeping busy with projects and the founding of a new film production company, which will absorb Despot Pictures. The new entity consists of Ordinary Angels producer Sally, production accountant Justin, editor Dan and myself, and we've latched onto the name D Constructed Media. The D is of course a reference to the fact that all four of us have names starting with D (either first or last), and deconstruction means to strip down to the basic elements. It also points at the philosophy of deconstruction, which is a form of textual analysis. But the basic meaning is that we, "D", constructed this media.

Going out to Dan's tomorrow to take a look at the color correction for the film. And Wednesday afternoon I'm meeting with the sound designer to do some element recording and listen to his mix thus far.

I got my brother to come over to watch the kids this Wednesday so that I can go back to my Gilda's group. I've missed it.

I think this last wave was a lot of coming to grips with the fact that my old life is gone, and for better or worse I am on this new path. I mean, it's been this way for quite some time, of course. But it was the saying goodbye to any illusion or fantasy that Sam would be calling from the hospital, saying it was all a big administrative screw up, and could I pick her up? It was the acknowledgement that I've put the past in the past and the future in the future, and the two are separate and distinct. That's the sense of "goodbye" I mentioned a couple posts ago. THAT'S the sadness. The admission that I'm actually moving forward and not just in a holding pattern, waiting for the Universe to shake out. Because that's not going to happen; the Universe doesn't shake out. We make an active decision and the Universe adjusts accordingly.

Sam's would-be 40th birthday is in a couple more weeks. I think that might be hard. Then we've got Dad's would-be 63rd, and then Sam's deathiversary in April. That's something I'm really not interested in observing as much as her birthday, but I know the brain will continue to mark the date for awhile yet.

An old high school friend of Sam's & mine put me in touch with a friend of hers who recently lost his wife to sudden cardiac arrest (she was young and at the peak of health), leaving him with two kids to raise (approximately the same ages as mine). I sent email and started to walk him through some of the initial stuff I remembered from my experience, and it looks like he has his situation as well in hand as anyone can. It feels good to make contact with someone a similar age in a similar situation and help them out. God knows I'm only standing today by the kindness and support of others. Feels good to give back.

Casualties

We're the casualties
No one tells you about us
You'll hear stories
But you have to live to believe

We're the bodies
Piled up by the roadside
You'll smell us burning
It'll give you bad dreams

Don't run away
We're a cautionary tale
Walk softly, and take heed
Don't offer us your sympathy
You don't know what we need

We're the spineless
The skinless and the broken
You'll be a crutch
Cause we can't stand on our own

You'll gather round us
To comfort and heal us
But the nature of our pain
Will remain unknown

Don't come to me
For happiness
I'm an open pit, and you will just fall in
Don't ask me what my problem is
I wouldn't know where to begin

I get so tired of holding on
I get so cold that I am chilled to the bone
I cry so hard it knocks me down
I just don't want to be alone

We're the lost and the forsaken
Screaming just to hear a voice
A sound to fill the empty spaces
A hand to hold and still the shaking

We're the wasted and the weary
Giving up and falling down
We're the needy, sick for your love
A drug to take to stop the aching

- Red Delicious


I excised some of the repeating chorus parts, but the meat is there. If ever there was a widda anthem, this is it.

Crash

Sometimes it just happens.

You could have the most productive day, everything going right... and BAM! The wave just hits you. I don't think I've had one for a few months. Not like this. Not sitting in bed until 4AM crying 'til dry and sick to my stomach.

That's one of the reasons I haven't posted all this week, and why this post is so short. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it. It felt almost like I was forgetting what Sam felt like, or something... like I wasn't feeling her presence anymore. It felt like goodbye. And it was horrible.

Stuff is happening, life rolls on, and I think I may have just passed another milestone. But I don't know for sure. I want to talk to some of my widda pals and see if this has happened to them.

The Dining Room DVD is finished. The full assembly of the Ordinary Angels rough cut is finished. And Randy was able to find a lot of our old music in his archives that I no longer have (or even had in the first place). And I did this.

Let it Snow, Part II

Took a nap this afternoon, the weather clear and cold. Woke up an hour later to big, fluffy, dry snowflakes coming down in buckets. Within a couple hours, West Seattle was a winter wonderland and hilly streets were being closed.

I walked down to Westwood with Kayleigh so that she could get her hair cut (to be closer in length to her long bangs. Meanwhile, I went next door to Toshi's and picked up some teryaki, and ended up bumping into one of my actors from Ordinary Angels. He lives about 2 blocks from me, and was over in the mall looking for some gloves at Marshall's. I invited him up to the house to check out what we had of the rough cut - he loved it. Speaking of which, Dan just handed off the last scene of the rough cut. We're conferencing with the sound designer tomorrow, and then Ron is driving me around to get some footage for the opening titles on Sunday (hopefully after the snow melts!!).

We've got about 3" to 4" solid on the ground now, and an expected 4" to 6" expected overnight - it's still coming down in a steady blanket. Snow day tomorrow, for sure. I will likely make the kids play in the snow for a great portion of the day.

Coordinating with Steve Fox (drums) and Jason Parker (horn) to session for me on the And Tears Fell tribute CD. It's coming down to the last few needed bits, and the drums will especially be a huge part of that completion for me. In association with that project, Randy talked me into remastering the original two ATF albums and one EP, and put them up on Cafepress, not for general public consumption, but for friends and family who want to be able to have that archive. I thought it was a worthwhile suggestion, so now I'm doing more CD artwork, based on the original cassette J-cards, but metric assloads better in quality.

Some of these recordings are pushing 20 years old, and they were not pro quality to begin with, so I have mixed feelings about having them available to the general public. However, reason dictates that: a) they had merit enough for a record label to want to release them back in the day; b) we must have felt they were worth hearing at some point. So, for historical value if nothing else, the three titles Sidhe, Circe and Angry Odin will be showing up at my currently evolving Cafepress emporium of Toddness. Lord help us all.

I do like the And Tears Fell T-shirt design - you know, I was And Tears Fell before Samantha was the vocalist, and I may very well push ahead with new material, but I think it's entirely appropriate that Sam's image be the default logo for the band. She named it, she believed in it, and she gave us a solid identity. I firmly believe she'd love what we're doing with the new recordings - heck, she'd be in the studio with us if she could (and maybe she is anyway).

Riding the See-Saw

Imagine a wound that had been slowly healing over two years, strength and mobility returning after months of numbness and atrophy.

Now rip the scab off and start poking in the raw tissue.

Caroline was a friend of Sam's. Caroline had what I understood to be an aggressive lymphoma, for which she'd undergone every possible treatment, and had even been previously in remission. Caroline's husband was in my family support group at Gilda's, and Caroline was in Sam's wellness group. She was a woman who refused to give up - who always dressed fashionably, makeup done, hair (or wig) in place, traveled, laughed, lived and loved with gusto. She certainly didn't look middle-aged, even in the midst of horrible chemo. And she always inspired Sam in her own fight. Often we'd come out of our individual groups and on the drive home Sam would tell me how uplifting it felt to be in Caroline's presence, despite how heavy the group sessions got. I thought, if ANYONE can beat cancer, Caroline can.

Caroline passed away last Wednesday.

And I can't stop crying.

I've said this before, and I will say it again, without apology for the colloquial profanity...

FUCK CANCER.

This whole thing was really driven home yesterday when I took Kayleigh to Build-a-Bear to spend her Christmas gift cards. While I stood by and observed, she passed from bin to bin, carefully weighing the decisions. Ultimately, she decided on a big floppy brown bunny and a white bear with blue patches of fur. She dressed the bunny in a striped blouse, jeans and sandals. The bear got a fleece pullover, khakis, tennies, and a baseball cap.

She named the rabbit Samantha Kate Bunny. The bear was named Grampa Bear.

So... yeah... kinda sad today.

I Think I Just Peed.

This. Click this link now. You must.

It's that funny.

Well, it's that funny if you grew up watching Speed Racer like I did.

Dredging the Past

Within the past month, two women from my childhood and/or teens have contacted me out of the blue. It's been really nice to get reacquainted, and gives me a nice sense of stability in the midst of this emotionally enigmatic headspace. One of these old/new friends actually new Sam before I did, and was a fellow artist/extrovert at Paly. We're probably more similar and have more in common now than back then. BTW her husband is a freakin' eletronic music genius whose mash-up of Eminem - Without Me and Yes - Owner of a Lonely Heart must be heard to be believed. Unfortunately, she didn't know about Sam's death, and we've been doing a lot of commiserating and catching up online until the wee hours, which means I have not been getting any sleep, so now I'm fighting a cold. Bleh. She's had her own life touched by cancer, so there's another point of overlap. Sigh - this goddamn disease. Seems like it leaves nobody untouched.

Also been sharing some music with my Jr. High theater "sweetie". We were in a gawdawful melodrama where I played the Li'l Abner-esque bumpkin hero and she was the poor damsel in distress (hence the kiss). Funny, I think I forgot about our stage kiss because the play was so bad, not because the kiss was forgettable - I've had relatively few in my (not-so-) distinguished acting career, so you'd think I'd remember it. It's actually pretty funny and has become a point of jest between us.

Speaking of theater, I took Kayleigh to the afternoon performance of Amahl & the Night Visitors, at Youngstown. Great production, possibly the best Amahl in the group's history. It was great to hang out in the Samantha Downing Control Booth for awhile and chat with Sara (the tech director there), and watch the show from the top row. They packed a full orchestra and chorus into that relatively small space, and pulled off a really delightful performance. Mike T., our Tevye from Fiddler, was in fine form as Balthazar for his, what, tenth or so year in the role (?).

Dan keeps feeding me finished scenes from Angels. I think we might actually make it for the SIFF deadline! I have a meeting tomorrow with one of the producers, the production accountant and Lieutenant Dan to figure out what our production entity is gonna look like.

Tonight, however, there is evil that needs a good smiting in City of Heroes. Vanguard II is on the case, and hopefully the usual suspects will be logging on to do some good. Recently Ron, Hans, Tyler and myself have been voice conferencing as we play. Beats the hell out of typing, "Look out behind you - there's a big dude with a.... nevermind."

Happy GNY

...or, Gregorian New Year. It was a quiet affair for me and mine. Tyler had a last-minute invite to his best friend's house for a family party, and Kayleigh stayed home with her dad. We toasted with some sparking cranberry juice and I tucked her in bed with Wiley at her feet, and minutes later crashed out in my own bed.

Perhaps it was the exhausting schedule of the holidays, but she slept in until after 1PM today. Tyler didn't take his meds with him to his overnight, so I'm having to watch him like a hawk tonight. If I keep him focused and occupied, he usually does okay. Just sent him on a mission to QFC for some sour cream - we're having homemade soft tacos tonight.

I don't usually make New Years resolutions. I am of the opinion (like Will Smith) that doing so means that you're neglecting something in your daily life. But I will say that 2007 represents a sort of mental milestone for me, and that I am going back to the gym after having been slammed for three months by schedule and projects, and that the dating moratorium is over (but so is the man-whore phase I went through last year). I'm done with serial dating. If the real thing happens by, great. But I'm not re-joining Match or Yahoo Personals. Hats off to those who find true love through dating services, but it's too contrived for my liking.

Dan has been kicking ass and taking names on the rough cut of Ordinary Angels. He's over halfway done. I'm very excited. It's looking great.

Kayleigh goes back to school tomorrow and I get to finish Tyler's enrollment at WAVA. And do a bank run. And submit my city business tax forms. And follow up with the insurance company. And talk to my lawyer. In other words, back to the hustle and bustle of daily life.

Cheers, loyal readers. Here's to a much better 2007!

So Happy to Show this Freakin' Year Out the Door.

So we lost power again yesterday. It was only down for 4 hours, but it's still like, "sonnovabitch!" Apparently it was an accident involving at least one car, an ambulance, and a power pole near the West Seattle Bridge. I know it also included the nearby transformer station, because we watched the green flashes out the window. And it happened right at dusk, while it poured down rain. It was heavy even for Seattle (we still get less precip than New York City, just more precipitous days overall). After one of the hottest summers on record, we are now having a record-breaking wet winter. At least the snowpack will be ginormous and keep us hydrated through the presumably hot summer to come.

I got a lump of coal in the form of a lien on my home from the contractor. Nevermind the fact that in order to release the funds, the mortgage company required they sign a waiver of lien. Nevermind the fact that the insurance companies are the ones paying the money... nah, that's too much work. We should just go after the homeowner. He doesn't have NEARLY enough going on. Sigh. That's all I dare say in case we go into litigation.

Creative projects are coming together, and that makes the insurance and legal crap more bearable. Got a CD of the last milestone on the Samantha tribute album. All the bass that Mike Berg laid down really fills out the sound - I'm very happy. Called Muriel and we're scheduling some rehearsal and a recording session in the early part of January to take care of the finished vocals. She's about to cast her show - the spring play for Twelfth Night. Sam Shepard's The True West. It'll be great to see what she does with the show.

Editor Dan (or should I start calling him Lieutenant Dan??) has been working on the Ordinary Angels edit. We're about to scene 5/6/7, and he's just done the most amazing effect. In the first meeting between Lucifer and Micah, Lucifer pulls out a gun and shoots one of his own Fallen, to compensate the angels for an improperly harvested soul. The raw footage is pretty pedestrian - Lucifer pulls a Beretta from his coat and fires behind himself without looking. Amazingly, the camera lines up right down his arm, and in perfect alignment with the actor across the park. The trigger is pulled on the prop pistol, and a little plastic "pop" is heard. Lucifer jerks a bit of artificial recoil, and the actor playing the Fallen crumples in a heap. The timing is great, but there's no actual plate movement, no muzzle flash, no smoke, no ejecting cartridge, and no gunshot sound.

So imagine my absolute shock when Dan gave me a short HD sequence of the gunshot, with all of the above. It looks freakin' REAL. I love you, Dan.

Been visiting a bunch with my old buddy Hans (who is up visiting from San Diego). I've mentioned him here before. It's nice to still have friends who can make me laugh 'til I pee, and vice versa.

Had a good Christmas with the fam up at my sister's new house in Bellingham. It was good to have the grandparents there, still lovely and spry, and the extended family (my sister-in-law's twin, and my brother-from-another-mother Steve). My mom is turning the big 60 next month, so we siblings are in Conspiratorial Birthday Mode. Stopped by stepmom's place on the water in Ballard on the way home from B'ham. She'd been sick and hadn't been able to join us up north, so we brought her some Christmas. Tyler was remarkably engaged in the activities and family, which pleased most everyone. He's spending the rest of his holiday playing his newly acquired videogames.

I'm sorry if the last few posts have been sour and negative. Christmas used to be a really happy time. I found the first Christmas gift Samantha ever gave me in one of the fire salvage boxes. An old RC Corvette Stingray she'd hand-painted metallic blue because they only made it in yellow or red. Christmas 1984 - our first Christmas as a couple, and she'd given me an RC version of my favorite car in its ideal color. That's an observant woman.

So understanably, this month has not really been the best, emotionally. But just bear with me. It's all part of the show, folks.

It's Christmas, Charlie Brown

So here we are, another Christmas Eve.

I count my blessings. I have my kids, my extended family beyond that, and a great (and ever-expanding) circle of friends. I have a house that isn't burning down or flooding with sewage, so there's that.

But it's still empty, almost 2 years later.

It's hard to be 100% into the season without the woman that was there for 21 Christmases, that female counterpart, that partner energy, the yin to my yang. I'm tired of solo parenting, tired of making all the decisions, being the caregiver for all and being the stoic one. Whine whine whine... yeah, you've heard it all before. Probably won't be the last time I say it either.

I apologize in advance if this post is dwelling on the negative side, but it's what goes on in my head and my heart around this time. I pretty much hate holidays now, having had many of them ruined by association with tragedy and death. I mean, I keep a civil (if not downright jovial) face, but it's hard for me to really find inner joy at this time of year. I'm willing for that to change, but for now... there it is.

Perhaps it was the storm knocking everyone's power out, but the vibe around here has been retarded. People in general have been selfish, short-sighted assholes to each other. Many of my friends have mentioned the same thing. It's impossible to go from one side of West Seattle to the other without somebody demonstrating imminent natural selection. Slow the hell down and look at the big picture (and maybe hang up the friggin' CELL PHONE while you're driving in the rain and ice, idiot). The day will still come. Christmas will still be here. It's not going anywhere. And here's a concept that came via an unexpected and rather nice phone call from one of my Dining Room actors just a couple days ago: If the giving of a gift (or reciprocity from a gift given) is expected, THEN IT IS NOT A GIFT at all. It is socially-acceptible extortion. By all means, give. But give truly and from the heart, not because the calendar says now is the time to take out a second mortgage to support the retail economy or because you expect anything in return. There's a certain expectation about gift giving during the winter holidays, and a certain amount of generosity and hospitality is a good thing. But there's a point past which it just seems a bit gaudy... and missing the point of the holiday in the first place.

I mean, didn't you see A Charlie Brown Christmas?

Anyway... There. I'm done with my holiday rant. I'm sure that will help fix all the problems in the world.

Here's wishing you all a safe and happy holiday, full of love and giving... for all the right reasons. :) Be sure to tune in next week when I tell the year 2006 to kiss my lilly-white ass.

Wind Storm '06

Well, we hunkered down and rode out the worst storm to hit the Puget Sound since January 1993. Between fat splats of rain (that caused flooding at major intersections and drowned one woman trapped in her basement office) and winds that clocked in near 90 mph on the coast, over 1.2 million people were without power starting Thursday night. Many areas won't be back online for days, due to the multitude of trees that ripped out of the ground and took down power lines, poles and transformers. Meanwhile, the temps are hovering around freezing. (AP Photo/The Daily World, Kevin Hong - More photos at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer website)

It's a mess.

We are lucky. We lost our power during the worst part of the storm, about 2AM Friday morning, and spent a cold Friday night in the family room with our comforters and warm dog. We got our juice back on about 2:30PM Saturday, at the same time as the majority of Westwood shopping center. Still, there are huge chunks of West Seattle without power, in seemingly random patterns. Of course, the combination of holiday shopping fever and no power or heat at home means that EVERYBODY in West Seattle must go eat out, so parking and even finding a restaurant with power is an interesting lottery of sorts.

Aside: on Friday evening, I took the kids to Bamboo Grill on Alki, and saw the last woman I dated (back in March). She was having dinner at the bar with a guy friend, and once or twice when we caught each other's eye, I smiled and/or waved a friendly hello. I know she recognized me, but sadly she was in new-boyfriend mode, and made no effort to return the greeting. Sigh. Whatever. Not like I was investing a lot in the gesture, but it's usually nice to reciprocate.

These storm/disaster situations tend to bring out the extremes of human nature: people are either really nice (thank you Lisa at Ellott Bay pub!), or they devolve into complete assholes, cutting in gas lines (wait your turn like everyone else), rolling through dark intersections (if there's no light, treat it like an all-way stop), or just generally being a self-centered whiny bitch (hey, you know we're all going through this together, so chill out and be a part of the solution, not part of the problem).

Anyway, we're safe, warm and dry, and I replaced the food in the fridge today (when in doubt, throw it out). So we're infinitely better off than some of my friends out in Bothell or Kirkland or Federal Way, who are still without power and/or heat, and dealing with some VERY cold nights.

Be safe, all.

* * *

Oh, and lest we forget, with all the wind-blowing and power-outing, Peter Boyle just died. Sing it with me:

"Tryin' mighty hard to look like Gary Cooper..."

"THOOOPER DOOOOOPER!"

Fair winds, you beautiful monster.

More Lyrics for the Somber Masses

Gah! I friggin' HATE My Chemical Romance, because they write such lyrically brilliant and touching songs, which are made barely listenable by Gerard Way's OTT emo delivery. If I want whining, I have plenty of The Cure to listen to - and nobody does whining like Robert Smith.

Anyway, thanks to Conor for pointing out this track...

Turn away,
If you could get me a drink
Of water 'cause my lips are chapped and faded
Call my aunt Marie

Help her gather all my things
And bury me in all my favorite colors,
My sisters and my brothers, still, I will not kiss you,
'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.

Now turn away,
'Cause I'm awful just to see
'Cause all my hairs abandoned all my body,
Oh, my agony,

Know that I will never marry,
Baby, I'm just soggy from the chemo
But counting down the days to go
It just ain't living

And I just hope you know
That if you say
Goodbye today
I'd ask you to be true

'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you
'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you

- "Cancer", My Chemical Romance

Letter Home

Dear Folks:

It's time for my second "Away From Home at Thanksgiving" letter. Only one more such letter to write, the one next year. Three in a row are enough.

Again, Uncle Sam fed me a nice turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Table cloths, cloth napkins, real plates (not trays) and fresh fruit displays were on the table for the first time this year, only to be put away for Christmas.

But tablecloths and fresh fruit do not a Thanksgiving make. It takes a certain type of surrounding, call it "home," or "family," or even "good friends."

No matter where you are in the world, no matter what the decorations, Thanksgiving just isn't Thanksgiving with 300 men eating as fast as they can to make room for another 300 men, with the Beatles for background music.

Perhaps there'll come a time when it'll no longer be necessary for soldiers and sailors to experience such an empty holiday as this, in which men are being maimed or are dying, in which others are being thankful that they have been spared again for yet one more day - all so that their families at home can stuff themselves on this bountiful harvest.

I'm thinking of my class at the Signal School, with most of my buddies now in Vietnam, knowing that some of them might leave their lives there. I'm very fortunate being here in Germany, and yet in a way I envy those who went to Vietnam. I am needed here, but I'm second in importance to the others when you consider what they're doing for you. As much as they hate it, as much as I hate it, we are all proud that we became Uncle Sam's fighting men, that we have done something for our country besides parade around with silly signs in our hands.

I am thinking of my child, which is yet unborn. I'm looking forward to Nancy's coming, and thinking how fortunate I am that I will be able to be present when my son (of course it will be a son!) arrives next April. The others will miss the memories of their wives' morning sickness, the trip to the hospital, their children's first cries. They'll miss the bitter-sweet pleasure of two o'clock feedings, colics and teething. The baptism will belong to the past, along with the first steps, the first words, the first haircuts. And some will die, and their children will never know them, in order that these children might enjoy the bountiful harvest for many more years to come. And yet I envy them, that they are doing so much for their country, while I am doing so little.

We said "good-bye," but we'll say "hello" again. Thousands like us, with families like ours, said "good-bye" for all eternity. They have sacrificed their all that you and I and our families and most of the world might give thanks for a good harvest. Others, perhaps, are giving thanks for merely being alive but are wishing at the same time that they were dead and released from their troubles.

Pray for those men who are there. They are the ones who need the prayers of 10,000 people. I am not worthy of the prayers of ten.

I come to the end of this letter giving thanks that my last year was as wonderful as it was. May the next year be half as good to me, to my family and friends, as it will be to those who will be able to leave Vietnam for good after serving their tour with death. Perhaps - hopefully but improbably - we may ALL come home to enjoy Thanksgiving next year.

Your loving son,
Ed

* * *

Letter home written by Edmund Downing from Heidelberg, West Germany, November 1967. My father. The unborn child he mentions is me, and Nancy is my mother. The letter appeared in the Los Gatos Times Observer, and I have posted it here without edit of content.

I find it interesting that he is so self-effacing about his worthiness, considering his job had to do with coded transmissions and therefore he could not go within 10km of East Germany. I do not find it surprising that he was able to reconcile a hatred of the political situation in Vietnam with a love of country and willingness to serve. I was brought up a pacifist, and we never had guns or any facsimiles of guns in the house. I remember it was a major issue when I bought my first G.I. Joe with my own birthday money, and it came with a little rifle.

My father usually voted Democrat or Libertarian, and was very socially progressive. When the Iraq war began, he shook his head and muttered, "God help them," and I never had the guts to ask who he was talking about - our soldiers, their soldiers, the administration or the innocent civilians caught in the middle. Knowing my father, my money is on "all of the above."

I just found the newspaper article in one of the boxes. Thought I'd share some words that haven't been seen in almost four decades, and which seem to have particular relevance at this point in our cyclical history.

This is the Day

As part and parcel with this '80s phase (mostly due to going through many boxes of fire-scarred memories), I burned a CD with a lot of my favorite '80s alternative. Stuff I was listening to back in the olden days. Yes, I know I can't live in the past. This reinforcement is simply giving me the strength I need to dig through boxes and sort through the emotions associated with them. For instance, I found Sam's cheerleader uniform from high school, with her rally squad letter. Damn, but that was a kick in the gut.

The point being, I know that when I'm done sorting through boxes and framing old pictures, I'll be able to put those memories aside for a time, and not have to dwell on them. But for now, yes, I'm wallowing a little. And that's okay. Because I said. And nobody makes the rules for my grief experience but me. That rat bastard.

Sorry - back to the music. I was listening to this compilation CD of '80s alternative when This is the Day by The The (aka Matt Johnson) began its tinkly little opening arpeggio. Found myself singing along to it. Found myself singing through honest-to-God tears. For no apparent reason, save for the fact that the words just may have had the effect of an epiphany. I mean, I've always liked the song - even planned a college animation project around it. But for some reason the meaning had never felt as strong or as clear - it was like I'd been saving it up for 22 years.

Well... you didn't wake up this morning
'cause you didn't go to bed
You were watching the whites of your eyes turn red
The calendar on your wall is ticking the days off

You've been reading some old letters
You smile and think how much you've changed
All the money in the world couldn't buy back those days

You pull back the curtains, and the sun burns into your eyes
You watch a plane flying across a clear blue sky
This is the day your life will surely change
This is the day when things fall into place

You could've done anything, if you'd wanted
And all your friends and family think that you're lucky
But the side of you they'll never see
Is when you're left alone with the memories
That hold your life together like glue

You pull back the curtains, and the sun burns into your eyes
You watch a plane flying across a clear blue sky
This is the day your life will surely change
This is the day when things fall into place

Sappy Lyric Day

OK, so looking at those John Hughes films from the '80s got my sleep-deprived brain working in the dead letter department, and I went and pulled out my copy of The Beat - Special Beat Service (thanks to Gordon for the replacement copy). It was one of those chosen few albums in heavy rotation in our cars when Sam & I were dating. Well I shouldn't really say "few", since we were musical gluttons. But if you'd been riding along in Sam's Arrow in 1985, here's a sampling of the cassettes you would have found on the floor:

Madness (best of)
The Police (everything)
Sting (Dream of the Blue Turtles)
The Beat (Special Beat Service, Just Can't Stop It)
Howard Jones (Human's Lib, Dream Into Action)
Flock of Seagulls (the first two albums on 1 tape)
Sparks (In Outer Space)
Depeche Mode (People Are People)
Shriekback (Oil & Gold) - (Any band who can use the word "parthenogenesis" in a song gets my vote!)
Yello (Stella)
Boomtown Rats (In the Long Grass)
Marillion (Misplaced Childhood)
Love & Rockets (Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven)
Oingo Boingo (Good For Your Soul, Dead Man's Party)
Danny Elfman (So-Lo)
Repo Man (soundtrack)
A-Ha (Hunting High & Low)
Queen (best of)
Tears For Fears (Songs From the Big Chair)
Psychedelic Furs (Mirror Moves)
David Bowie (Let's Dance, Tonight)
Berlin (Pleasure Victim, Love Life)
Missing Persons (Spring Session M, Rhyme and Reason)

...Add to that a smattering of my obscuria (at the time), like Art of Noise, The Replacements, Kate Bush and pre-So Peter Gabriel, plus some leftover Scorpions, Judas Priest, Led Zeppelin and some showtunes (a dead giveaway that you're in an actor's car).

Aaaaaaanyway, the point being that when Sam & I would go to the Baylands in Palo Alto to make out in my (dad's) '81 Oldsmobile with the big back seat (like this, only white/beige - we called it El Presidente), inevitably a tape from one of our respective collections would be providing the soundtrack for our own real-life John Hughes movie (seriously - replace Chicago with San Francisco and slightly fewer bold pranks, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off *was* my senior year in high school). So whenever I hear "End of the Party" by The Beat, with Dave Wakeling's very '80s crooner voice dramatically professing love for the girl in question, I flash back to those times. More fondly now, not quite as painful. I just thought I would share some of that history. Sappy? Sure. Like I said, we lived in a John Hughes movie.

She said to leave it till
the end of the party
Do it now, you know
there's never a next time
How come the feeling
that it's only just started
Pull back your cover,
I could love you for all time
But do it now,
you know there's never a next time.

The bees are busy,
Now there's gold on the hill
The branches waving
But our hearts are wrapped up inside
And then you leave me,
so I start missing you a lot
No argument oh do I love you or not
No argument,
you have all the love that I see as mine
Pull back your cover,
I could love you for all time
But do it now
you know there's never a next time.

You know Wakeling was speaking to a whole generation of kids coming of age at the time, otherwise why would Hughes have crammed his soundtracks with so many of his songs?

So, as you may have guessed, this post is neither here nor there... Just rambling and sharing memories. And maybe sharing the imperative: do it now, you know there's never a next time.

Holidays Upon Us

For various reasons, some more obvious than others, we didn't quite get around to shooting a family holiday photo last year. This year, however, the kids and I agreed that being back in our own home was cause for celebration, what with all that has occurred in the last 365 days. So we got the new tree, decorated it, had the fireplace going, and snapped a few shots with the digital camera on my still tripod. The lighting came out looking warm and even, which makes us quite lovely (heh). Tyler's in his sweats, Kayleigh in her PJs. Just like Christmas morning.

Christmas (for me) came early in the form of Autumn's Grey Solace's latest CD from Projekt Records. I'm in shoegazer heaven. Wiley & I both went to our respective groomers today, and now I have a belly full of Taco Del Mar, so I must do as the Spanish do, and take a short siesta this afternoon. When I am Dictator For Life, the siesta will be among the first institutions adopted and mandated. You WILL have a nap after lunch, and you'll LIKE it!

So, yes, what was I saying? Ah - had a postmortem for the film on Sunday with Sally, Darlene and Sally's husband Justin, who is our production accountant. Then had a meeting with the sound designer. Today I got a great call from the actor who played... well, ME, essentially. Such a great group of people... I really can't say enough good-and-gushy about them! Then I got a call from the editor, who said he was interested in potentially forming a production group with Sally, Justin and me. He has done the HD video capture from the camera, and says it looks AMAZING. Huzzah! I'll check it out later this week when I retrieve the camera.

I also got email out of the blue from a gal I did theater with back in junior high! The embarrassing thing was I didn't remember we had a stage kiss! Of course, much of my early teens is a giant, hormonally-crazed blur. I'm sure I'm not alone in being able to remember what happened to me at age four, but having fourteen mostly a blank. Ah well... it's cool to catch up!

Anyway... I'm sure there is more, but right now the Dictator For Life has mandated a siesta. Hasta~

DGIs and What We Want to Hear

I haven't really gone into a lot of the terminology that we in the "widda" community use, mostly because I really don't identify as a "widda" so much as a guy trying to live his life under difficult circumstances. But there is one term for a whole section of the populace, a section I've encountered a lot since losing Samantha. The DGI, or Don't-Get-It.

Anyone who has suffered the loss of an immediate family member has encountered someone who told them "they're in a better place."* Or, "It's been X days/months/years. It's time to move on with your life." That's a DGI.

* Really? Better than alive and interacting with a family that loves them dearly? Maybe he/she should have been allowed to choose where he/she would like to be right now. If life on Earth is so bloody awful, why do we persist in it? Anyway, you get the picture.

So I'm reading Go Go Yubari's blog and she in turn has a link to another fellow widda's blog, which contains the perfect rundown of what most of us absolutely do NOT want to hear, and what we do...

Just got back from seeing David Whyte recite from his new book (which is a huge compilation of old and new work from 1984 to present). Most of the pieces were about experiences at holy places in Ireland. But some were very personal, transformational insights into loss and the cyclical continuity of life. The autobiographical Tempus Omnia Revelat describes his father's passing with such beauty and reverance that I found myself wiping tears when he'd finished.

This part of a piece called Ancestral stuck with me:

Each life a traveler
not yet really arrived
like passing strangers,
the lanterns
half cloaked,
showing a glimmer
at the doors
of the living,
half
looking for
shelter,
half wanting
to stumble on
beyond us
to what waits,
some place perhaps
in the brimming dark
where
the story ends.


Powerful stuff, that. 'Nuff said.

FIFTY BOXES.

That's right. Fifty.

After weeks of negotiating with the RestorX manager who worked on my case, I thought we'd hit on a workable deal. They would drop off 10 or 20 boxes a week for a couple weeks, making the sort-through a managable affair. So imagine my surprise when the truck arrived fully loaded with everything from the flood AND fire. Everything. While I'm quite happy to see how many photos and videotapes survived, there are unfortunately several issues at work here:

1. I don't have room to store fifty boxes inside with any semblance of organization, and my carport is open the the elements and leaks, so there is now a maze of cardboard, floor-to-ceiling in my downstairs hallway and my bedroom.
2. All of that old energy is now sitting back in my home.
3. A lot of this stuff is Sam's, and I was not prepared to deal with those memories and the attached emotions right now, all at once.
4. Some of this stuff is fire or flood damaged and had been written off, yet they are giving it back to me anyway, so I now have the task of throwing it out. Thanks, RestorX.
5. A roll of toilet paper?? A year-old 1/4 full bottle of lotion?? Yuck. Come on. All the toiletries were itemized and claimed. I don't need this crap back.
6. Most boxes are only packed half full; the rest of the space is taken up by brown packing paper - but here's where it gets fun: sometimes the packing paper is just wadded up to fill space, and SOMETIMES it actually contains something fragile - and I get to do the Easter egg hunt every time to make sure nothing fragile or valuable gets recycled.
7. They simply HAD to bring me all this stuff right before Christmas, so I have nowhere to store anything else.

Bottom line is, the settlement with RestorX's insurance carrier is still open, and it will not be closed before my family and I are compensated for the trauma of having our home burn, losing our family cat, any dump runs I have to make because of this garbage coming back, and my time spent unpacking.

Sorry for the rant, but it was a rude awakening. I made it through about 10 boxes yesterday, tossing out and consolidating.

Only forty more to go.

The Iceman Cometh

It's another chilly one today - and all Seattle schools are closed once again. In all the normal craziness of yesterday, I totally forgot to mention that my grandfather turned 90. We called and sang to him, and he talked about the new furnace he and my grandmother were having installed. That's right - they live in Bellingham, WA and had no heat for some of the coldest days ever. We're supposed to get some more snow this afternoon, followed by rain tonight, which should kill the cold snap just a bit.

I'm going to see poet David Whyte again this Friday with my brother & stepmom. Looking forward to that.

Other than that and finishing up the books on the production part of Ordinary Angels, life is mostly back to a semblance of whatever pitiful excuse for normal we usually cling to. Now I just need to edit the DVDs for the summer musical, and one for The Dining Room.

Wheeeeeee!

Snow Day

...or rather, "ice day". With the wind-chill hitting -15F in some areas, Seattle has become a giant ice rink. All the schools were closed today, so the kids and I walked down to Big 5 to stock up on the winter gear we hadn't replaced yet - hats & gloves, mostly. Then we sat in the Starbucks cafe in Barnes & Noble and had warm drinks before heading home.

Tyler is trying to get his writing placement essay for WAVA done, but is being resistant. Kayleigh is working through her homework packet for the week.

I noticed my buddy Beach put his old college film up. I always thought Tube was a brilliant premise for a short, and I think he executed it well. We were all in the DeAnza film department at the time, Beach, myself, Mark Holmes (now of Pixar) and Rob Wilson, and we often pooled talent and resources, and our time in the editing suites. The guys in the waiting room are Pat Goddard and Edward Havens (nice appearance on Attack of the Show last night, Ed!). The dude in the scrubs is Randy Rhodes, aka Dick Hollywood. I edited the video you see playing on the television during the "mating" sequence (and no, the couple is not from a porno, the segment was from a daytime soap). I'm glad Beach updated the titles and soundtrack, but I kinda miss the old Ryuichi Sakamoto music he had originally.

Maybe someday soon I will post the animated shorts Steve & I worked on at Hyperbole back during the dot com boom. Those were pretty entertaining too.

Thankful

Although I usually mark certain American holidays (Columbus Day, for example) with mourning for our indigenous peoples, Thanksgiving has always meant more to me as a general coming together of friends and family.

So what would a guy like me be thankful for, given the events of the past couple years?

• I have two beautiful, intelligent children, whom I love dearly, and who love me.
• I have a wonderful, close and supportive family.
• I have some of the best friends anyone could ask for - close friends, who are much more like family.
• I have a roof over my head - a completely rebuilt home.
• I've completed my two creative goals for the year - direct The Dining Room and shoot Ordinary Angels.
• Those projects brought new creative opportunities and friendships.
• I have kept Sam's memory alive in my art and my associations.
• I'm in pretty good health, all things considered.

I wish everyone a fantastic holiday. Hopefully with people you love.

Be well.

Wrapped!

We finished the shoot yesterday with a half hour to spare. I met my stepmom, brother and kids down at Alki and took them to dinner at Pegasus.

Despite some logistic challenges and a certain amount of sleep deprivation, I think we made it through remarkably well. The weather cooperated perfectly. Thursday & Friday: clear. Saturday: clear. Sunday: pouring down rain, which, although it was miserable to stand around in, lent an ominous look to the final scene, where Micah realizes his mission has failed. The rain broke just in time for us to finish the fallen approaching the house. Lucifer folds up his umbrella, cuing the other fallen to do likewise, and as they clear out, he puts his shades back on, bookending his appearances.

And as the actor turned and walked away down the street - no kidding - the church bells from three blocks away started chiming. Everyone looked at me when the take was over like, "What favors did YOU pull?" It rocked. I've praised my leads many times, but I really have to point out how crucial the background players are. In the case of the final scene, the addict's family: Trina, Wayne and Oliver. Spectacular pathos.

I owe my neighbors gift baskets. And my kids are getting the dedication.

Monday we did the death of fallen angel Ornias, the bad counterpart to Afriel. The sun came out and allowed us to do all we needed while the residue from the previous rain left everything damp and slimy looking. Then we moved inside, and it began to rain. We shot a scene which is probably going to be difficult for many of my family and friends to watch. The death of the cancer patient in the arms of her grieving husband. I stayed pretty well in control until the camera picked up the framed picture of Sam in Bye Bye Birdie on the desk in the background. That was a bit much for me, and tears started flowing. The actors playing the cancer patient and husband - bless them - were incredibly understanding and respectful, and talented as heck. There was absolute awed silence during the few takes we did. Ben and Trish are my heroes. They're fantastic. I can't say enough about my talented cast and crew, my DP and his gaffer, an excellent sound recordist, a small army of dedicated PAs, my assistant director Samantha... and of course the two women without whom the film would not have been made: Sally & Darlene.

The screenshots have now been arranged in script order, some with captions.

Very soon I will take the external drive with the footage on it to Dan Humphrey (of The Addict fame), who will see what kind of editing magic he can work on this monster. In the meantime, perhaps a MySpace page for the film is in order...

Angels Pics and Progress

I have uploaded some screenshots of the footage we've been getting on Ordinary Angels. The pics are straight from Sony Vegas, no color correction or contrast tweaking... but you get the basic idea.

We've been very lucky, with weather and talent, and despite some individual drama behind the scenes (just real life stuff going on in people's lives), everyone is way into the project, and pretty much meshes. I've made some new friends and some potentially long-lasting contacts. Very cool.

One more day. Light shoot, but emotionally draining nonetheless.

More after we wrap...

"Angels" Ahoy

With production drawing near, I thought I should get one more post in. I will either be full of energy and posting every day during the shoot, or (more likely) I will post once we wrap on Monday.

It's coming together, last-minute shenannigans aside. What a great word that is. Shenannigans. It has to be Irish. Only the Irish could come up with a word as good as that. It sounds like someone dismissing a concept after far too many pints of Guiness.

And speaking of last-minute shenannigans, Kayleigh slammed her finger in my car door yesterday. Laterally. Fortunately it was a compression and didn't bleed all that much, although the poor girl did have a little bout of shock. I put a temporary band-aid on it from my car first aid kit, took her home, cleaned it, re-wrapped it, put her on the sofa in front of the fireplace/heater, gave her some Tylenol and called the doctor's office. They slipped us in at 5:15 PM, x-rayed her hand, found no fracture (thank heavens), cleaned it again, re-re-wrapped it, and sent us home. It's still waaaay sensitive, so she's taking a home day.

In the shuffle and drama of yesterday afternoon, I neglected to get Tyler's prescription refilled, so now I have to wait until the Rite Aid opens to get that done. Which will then put him about 3 hours behind his med schedule. Since it's early dismissal all this week, I'll probably keep him home to work on his placement exams.

Had a 3-hour meeting with my DP yesterday. He's the guy who shot The Winter of Her, which is a great indie short (directed by our own Heath Ward). We totally clicked on this project, and he's going to make it look good. I think I've moved past a lot of the fear and trepidation of last week, and have gone into excitement mode. I've also decided to kill my Manic Lobster arts blog. It's just sitting there.

Until next time...

Blank.

We had the cast & crew meet & greet today.

There were many people in my home.

It was great to see everyone. We had Ron do a photo shoot for the poster.

It's all coming together. I'm exhausted.

Homer sleep now.

P.S. My assistant director's name is Samantha. Go figure.

The Party's Over

The party's over
It's time to call it a day
They've burst your pretty balloon
And taken the moon away
It's time to wind up the masquerade
Just make your mind up now
The piper has to get paid

The party's over
The candles flicker and stir
You danced and dreamed through the night
It seemed to be right just being with her
Now you must wake up, all dreams must end
Take off your makeup, the party's over
It's all over, my friend

- Nat King Cole (as interpreted by David J.)

The long day for The Dining Room went well. Two shows - long, ehausting day (for the actors & tech folks and for me). Both shows were good. Yesterday's matinee was, with the exception of a lost line that blew an entrance cue and another line, quite good as well. Everyone gave the artistic director kudos for the quality of the show. Two folks from Youngstown came to the final show, and were very generous with their praise. Twelfth Night is really known for the summer musical and the winter production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. This was the first contemporary drama the group has staged, and the director of the center commented that it was good to finally see what we were about (and to feel like we were really a resident theatre company).

Sam's parents were up helping her brother move house, and we all went out to breakfast before the show, then they came to the matinee. It was nice for them to see the product of Samantha's work.

The cast party was at the home of one of the castmembers, whose parents have what is simply the best basement rumpus room ever. A full bar - and I mean fully stocked with everything, with a real to-scale bar and stools. Pool table. Slot machines. Bar trivia machine. Plinko. Collections of baseball cards and sports memorabilia, classic model cars and event pins line the walls along with framed vintage magazines and newspapers (like the 1962 Space Needle cover story on Life magazine). Stained glass, disco ball, spinning DJ light. Amazing. Travis walked into the room and fell to his knees in supplication. And phenominally nice people! After pool and drinks, we were served dinner upstairs in their formal dining room, and the cast, the artistic director and I enjoyed some laughter and that kind of melancholy that comes from having done a good show, but wanting to do more. The cast gave me a gift card to a restaurant - I'll take the kids.

There is talk that doing two weekends, like with Mattress, will be a possibility in the future - it costs a lot to rent the stage, even at tenant rates. But it gives the show time to generate word of mouth. The main frustration is that after six weeks of rehearsals, the actors are finally hitting their stride when the show closes. Another three shows would give them room to really shine with their characters.

Anyway, as of now it's a moot point. We struck the stage right after the matinee, and all that's left of The Dining Room is our lone brass chandelier hanging over a blank stage.

It's now pouring rain. I need to get Kayleigh to school and get a few office tasks done before I head out to an Ordinary Angels production meeting. For the next week and a half, work is Angels, then we shoot, then I'm done for the year.

Dining Room Rocked the House

Well, opening night came and went with relatively few hitches. The facility does not have a headset sytem, so communication between the booth and backstage is a conundrum. We were resourceful and relied on our cell phones, but nonetheless had a few missed cues and whatnot. Even so, the audience (about half full, not bad for a Thursday night show in pouring rain) seemed to enjoy it.

Last night, however, saw the cast with an improved energy, an audience that, while not numerically superior, was far more responsive, and a performance much tighter and error-free. An acquaintance of one of the castmembers told me afterward that he'd seen a professional production at another Seattle theater and that The Dining Room was a superior production in every way. Now I haven't seen the production in question, but they are a professional company and a respected bulwark of Seattle's theatre community. So his comment made my year, not out of any sense of malice, but because I've basically been in a creative isolation tank and had no objective barometer regarding how good our show was. The audience at last night's show (including some Pandemonium Players) was really thrilled with it.

Not bad for an old hack who hasn't directed for the stage in over a decade.

Now comes our long day. I will be gone from 1PM to 10PM. Two shows. Then a matinee tomorrow, and we strike the set and call it good. As one of the Twelfth Night boardmembers remarked last night, "we're paying the price for being first." That means we're doing a fall show by a lesser known playwright (at least in these parts), in a facility which could really be more patron-friendly in terms of access and signage and is set up more for live music and DJs than a theatrical run - and, quite frankly, Seattle theatre patrons don't know it's even here. Once word gets out that good theatre is happening here, it will no doubt become a destination. In the meantime, I don't know if this show will break even, and I was prepared from the outset that I might be a convenient whipping boy for anything that went wrong with it, but last night's performance was so worth it.

Next week Tyler and I have a conference at his school. He's not being challenged, feels bored and like the work is remedial, and as a result is becoming a barrier to other kids and their learning. He's been on a waiting list for another middle school since the beginning of the school year, but no progress has been made. And I'm afraid simply switching the physical location of his school misses the point. So the two of us began a search for alternatives. I liked the alternative middle school affiliated with the place he and Kayleigh went to preschool, but it's private, and the tuition is out of the question for a guy who isn't a project lead at Microsoft anymore. Then I ran across a state-based virtual academy, where he would have all the challenge and requirements of a brick-and-mortar public school, with the added benefit of a flexible schedule and personalized curriculum. He will still go on field trips with other kids, he will still get PE, he will still be held to WASL standards (actually, academy students are held to higher testing standards). But he will be able to track his progress online and really drive his own education for the rest of this year and perhaps next. I'm not looking at it as a permanent solution, but if it works, it may well be. And the important thing is, HE'S EXCITED about learning again.

Happy New Year...

At least to those who mark the change on the Celtic calendar. It's another long night. We had our second dress rehearsal tonight, while Gavin took the kids out trick-or-treating and Michelle held down the fort.

The play is really starting to gel. Ron came to the rehearsal and snapped a few hundred shots, some of which I've posted to my flickr account. Check 'em out! It almost looks like a real thing!

Yikes

It was Kayleigh's turn to have a rough night. Lots of upset over a bunch of little things that added up. Fortunately I was home by her bedtime so we got a few minutes uninterrupted cuddling, which seemed to help calm her down.

Tyler was great. Thanks go to my brother and his wife for watching the kids on his actual birthday (Happy Birthday, bro! It was good to hang out with you Friday). I was supposed to call my mom back, but was so distracted with putting the kids to bed, and the exhaustion of a 14-hour day on only 4 hours sleep, I spaced it. Tech week in late October sucks. But the set looks good, and the runthrough last night felt promising.

Oh, and last night, for the first time since that dream just before the fire, I had a nightmare that actually woke me up. In this case, it was that the house was burning down.

On the bright side, the blinds are being installed tomorrow, so we will have shades up on Halloween. But nightmares about the house burning down - again - yeah, not so fun.

Blur...

This is the only time I'll have to post today (and perhaps for the next few days), so I thought I should get to it.

Had a great moment with my son last night. After Kayleigh was asleep, Tyler and I went upstairs, turned on the fireplace and had a nice chat. It's not often a father gets the chance to cuddle with his 12-year-old son (especially given the crazy schedule). It was nice.

I've been so deep in everything, I forgot yesterday was my stepmom's birthday, despite weeks of planning and forethought. So I feel like crap, of course. I'm taking her to the airport this morning so she can fly down to California for a couple days. Then I have to go straight from SeaTac to Northgate for a lunch meeting with my Ordinary Angels producers. Then up to Display & Costume for some prop shopping, then to Seattle Lutheran High School to pick up wallpaper for the play. My poor car...

Tonight I have to go on a Home Depot run for the play, Friday I have a bon voyage drink with some of my Gilda's group (one of my fellow widdas is taking off to Guatemala for a few months), then my brother's 30th birthday celebration. Saturday morning I meet with my sound designer for the play, then have a few hours to prep for Sunday's load-in and finish the program (I am apparently a one-man theatre machine). Then that night I am screening the 75th anniversary DVD of Tod Browning's 1931 Dracula with Bela Lugosi for some friends. Yeah, I know it's a cinematic icon, but honestly, how often do you sit down and watch it? Our society is so rushed and jaded and pressurized (I know from personal experience) that the classics largely go unnoticed now. So I have decided to pay homage to the film portrayal of Dracula that gave us every single one of the mainstream qualities we've come to associate with vampires: long canines (not incisors, like the earlier Nosferatu), the dashing, sexy foreigner, black capes, widow's peaks, the bat transformation, the hypnotic gaze.

Sorry for the tangent... where was I?

Oh yeah... Sunday morning we start load-in for the play. The set pieces, scenery, props and costumes are all transported and stored at Youngstown, and the set constructed on the stage. Thus begins tech week.

Once the play closes, I will have two and a half weeks of solid prep for Angels. Our shoot is November 16-20. Once the shoot is done, I will hand it to an editor and take a deep breath. After calling in family favors for childcare and such, I will owe my family some personal time - especially my kids. I'm not booking any professional gigs or productions or anything until after January 1. I mean, I'm already working through Celtic New Year. The rest of the holidays will be ours, damnit.

I did some interesting math and figured I was currently doing the work of two parents, two directors and two producers, plus trying to unpack a house while trying to get some sleep and not go crazy and hack someone to death with a homemade katana. Good thing I don't have to be a husband or boyfriend right now as well.

What's keeping me sane? Hugs from my kids. The occasional Daily Show, when I catch it. Billie Holiday, and lots of it - there's a woman who really lived a freakin' LIFE. Poetry by David Whyte. Music by Trespassers William & Autumn's Grey Solace. Here, Bullet by Brian Turner. Nothing like a book of poetry from the front lines of Iraq to put my own life in perspective. Amazing stuff.

Until next time...

Projects, Projects...

Time for an update.

There is light at the end of the tunnel.

What I mean is, I can finally see an end to this crazy-stupid triple-booked schedule I've been maintaining for the last three months plus.

Thursday night brought the announcement that one of our producers on Ordinary Angels has found himself overbooked and was offered a very attractive commercial shoot during our scheduled shoot. Ordinarily, this would be a major hurdle, except for the fact that he is lining up all the resources and replacement people before he leaves. That, and I emailed our co-producer from Duo, and she's interested in coming on board. So in the long run, I think we'll be just fine.

We're two weeks away from opening The Dining Room at Youngstown. The crazy schedule will kick in during tech week, when we're in the theater space and rehearsing with a real set and props. Once the show opens, however, it becomes the actors' show - I really have to (and get to) drop the reins and just watch along with the rest of the audience.

I had a tech meeting at Youngstown yesterday morning. It was surreal walking into the technical director's office, which is about 1/3 of the control booth space. As we climbed the stairs and reached the door, Samantha's name greeted us from an etched slate plaque. The tech director works there - she passes that name many times every day, and likely doesn't give it a second thought. But it was a little strange for me.

Anyway, I made a lot of progress on the show yesterday, and typed up a shot list for Angels. Tyler encountered some issues with his computer, and ended up overreacting to the point where we found ourselves in another standoff. I called my brother (the middle school teacher) to come by and run interference. He is an adult male whom Tyler respects (and well versed in child psychology), so was able to talk him down. Tyler was very contrite and ended up hanging out with me all night. Gavin and Michelle left, and my buddy Ron and the kids and I had our Friday night pizza, then Kayleigh went to do some artwork and we boys watched the first two Alien films on the projector screen with 7.1 surround! I think that means the screening room has been officially christened.

With all the moving and time constraints, I haven't been to the gym in over a month, and I'm feeling like things are starting to slide. I need to get my slidey ass back in there soon.

I'm supposed to be building sets today with one of the Dining Room cast, but I think it's gonna be more of a Home Depot shopping trip. I'm going into Brian's studio tomorrow with Mike Berg to do some more on the tribute CD. It's sounding pretty good. Can't wait to get it done and out the door!

What Could I Say?

Now I'm so afraid
To push you from my mind
Like the fear of forgetting what
What light is like when you close your eyes

How can you stare
How can you sit
While I'm trying to tear you up
And I'm almost good at it

I told you everything I knew
I tore my pockets out and gave them all to you
You hold my throat like a violin
I never want to kiss again
Cause there's nobody like you
Cause there's nobody like you

- Trespassers William

How Many of Me?

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 35 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

I Know

I know i'll never see you
I know i'll never run into your body walking through the crooked streets
I know i'll never hear you
I know i'll never hear you like a sound that wafts inside from outside there
I know that if i waited i know that if i wait a thousand days will lie wasted with thoughts of you

My love i've pictured this:
Your violet eyelids opened to say "here's where you've been"
Your lips open to say "my darling it's been so very long and i'm in pain"
I know i'll never feel you
I know i'll never get so close to you that i can't smell anything else
I know i'll never see you I know that where you go i'll still be far from where you are

My love i've pictured this:
Your violet eyelids opened to say "here's where you've been"
Your lips open to say "my darling it's been so very long and i'm in pain"
Sometimes i picture all your fingers
Sometimes they're crawling down my spine
Sometimes they're buttoning your jacket
Sometimes you're far but you're still mine

I know that it is raining
And i know that the rain will soak you through
And leave you like the tattered sky
I know i go in circles
I know that window panes bring only rain and not your face

Sometimes i picture all your fingers
Sometimes they're crawling down my spine
Sometimes they're buttoning your jacket
Sometimes you're far but you're still mine

I know that it is raining and
I know that the rain will soak you through and leave you like the tattered sky
I know i go in circles
I know that window panes bring only rain and not your face

- Trespassers William (live performance here)

Taurus Love Horoscope

For Friday, October 13th...

It's time to rise to the occasion. You can continue to clutch at the past, or you can acknowledge what it meant to you and then let go of it completely. After all, to make room for new love, you have to let the old go.

Um, yeah. Working on it.

Despot Pictures - Now With 100% More Logo!

Steve came over today and we riffed out a corporate ID for the production company. It was great fun - just like in the olden days when we would get together and draw and brainstorm. Steve is one of those artists who thrives on the creative energy of others and is totally in the moment. He's a master at bottling lightning.

So he took the basic sketch home to vectorize and play with it in Photoshop, and then we traded files for a couple hours tonight. He did the actual work from my design concept, and I laid in the text. I can't wait to put some old Soviet music behind it and see it on the screen. I think it'll make for some nice business cards too.

Now I'm going to bed...

Back in Business

Sam's brother Doug came by on Sunday morning and got my work box up and running - at least enough to get the Dining Room poster done. I've posted the whole shoot over at my flickr account. Enjoy.

We're less than a month from the Dining Room run, and have started working with costumes and props as much as we can. I love my cast. They are all beginning to fill their respective roles and have become much more natural in them. After pirating it up on Friday night in the Youngstown theater space, I am excited to see our set properly dressed and lit.

Ordinary Angels casting has gone great, but has proven to be a challenge in terms of choosing between some VERY talented actors. In the end, I need to set aside everything but the aesthetics of whom I feel best embodies the role as written. And when I say "as written", I mean not only does the dialogue sound natural coming out of the actor's mouth, but perhaps more importantly, does the actor look and sound like the image in my mind as I was writing the piece...

And now, back to work.

Yo Ho Ho...

Now where did I put that bottle o' rum??

Okay, so tonight is the crazy mad Twelfth Night fundraiser. I will put on all my newly-replaced pirate gear and y'arrr! it up with a bunch of Pandemonium Players. My voice will be gone tomorrow, but fortunately I won't have to talk all that much at the final callbacks for Ordinary Angels.

Tyler is almost over this cold, thank goodness. Kayleigh, on the other hand, fell from the play structure at school and severely sprained her wrist yesterday. School called, thought it might be broken, I rushed down to pick her up and get her in at the doctor's office, get x-rays, get dinner made and get to rehearsal. She's fine.

Saturday evening, after callbacks, I get to host three preteen girls for Kayleigh's birthday slumber party. Then, Sunday afternoon, Sam's brother is coming over to help get my work computer back up and running so I can get the Dining Room poster done.

Tyler & I assembled the electric fireplace mantel this morning, and the retro radio came yesterday - you know, the kind that look like vintage domed radios, but have a CD player and turntable built in... Looks fantastic on the DVD storage cabinet - almost like it belongs there. Hooray for fake retro!

Now to find that rum...

What Does it Mean?

Two nights ago, I had another "visit" from Sam. Since we've been back in the house, I've definitely felt her presence or energy around a lot more. And why not? Living humans are electrochemical reactors. They give off residual energy. She lived in this house for a decade - and died in it - so it makes sense that her imprint would still be here, fire, flood and all. Moreover, we both maintained a belief in the persistence of the human soul, and my experience throughout this ordeal has only cemented that belief.

Anyway, I've never just had casual narrative-style dreams about my deceased loved ones. They are without fail timely, engaging and extremely real - moreso than any other kind of dream. And they usually happen very infrequently (Sam is the exception to the rule, but given our relationship... well, Sam was always the exception to the rule, regardless). They are more in the realm of visits or communications. My brother, uncle and grandfather have all visited me in the past, and a favorite great aunt once physically appeared to me in the antique rocking chair we had. And more recently, my father has visited in dreams, and Sam has racked up a lot of dreamtime with me - not that I mind at all. Bring 'em on!

The previous dream I posted about was very upbeat and happy. We laughed and hugged and she complimented me on the house. This time, however, the mood was solemn - almost somber. I was sitting (sans clothing) on a long Victorian sofa. It resembled the green wingback sofa and armchair we used to have when we first moved in together, but looked faded and older, and the couch itself was huge; it seemed to go on forever into the dark. The room in which I sat was also dark. The only light seemed to be eminating from right in front of Samantha.

So I'm sitting naked on an infinite couch in the dark, while Sam kneels on the floor and begins to wash me with a cool, wet cloth. I remember making jokes and trying to be funny (you'd think it could easily have been one of those dreams), but she was very serious, and almost sad. It was very tender, and totally non-sexual. She just continued to bathe me with the wet cloth.

Tangent: Come to think of it, this would be a complete reversal of when she was winding down and couldn't move so well, and I would wash her. Although the setting was different (she was on a shower stool in the bathtub, and the water was nice and warm), it was no less tender. Caring for someone in the weeks and days before death is a transformational and emotionally bonding experience. Just taking a trip to the bathroom becomes intensely close. I remember she would fade in and out of lucidity, and every once in a while she would look up at me as I held her steady on the toilet. She'd flash me a sheepish look and an embarrassed smile - this self-proclaimed Cast Iron Bitch, this force of nature, reduced to teetering on the pot with her husband holding her steady. Once, she thanked me for taking care of her. "You'd do the same for me," I replied. "Yes I would," she answered, and I knew it was true.

I know water can symbolize emotions, and being naked can mean emotional vulnerability. But does it make sense that I was cracking jokes the whole time - just like Sam used to do in the hospital? Was that my way of dealing with the lingering hurt and loneliness, by displaying a facade of humor and confidence? And what does it mean when your lost love tenderly washes you with a sad expression? Seems she might be working on helping me shed the past emotional anchors to her - and that would be a less-than-happy task to accomplish. If anyone has any input, I'm all ears.

Tyler is sick today - stupid change-of-season cold has been going around for weeks now. I've been taking my supplements, my green tea, my StemEnhance and the occasional Airborne (if I feel symptomatic). So far, so good. Lots of stuff going on right now. Can't really afford to be sick.

My bedroom furniture came yesterday. My room smells like cedar. The kids hate it, but I LOVE it.

Dining Room rehearsals continue (we open in 4 weeks), and the fundraiser cabaret is Friday night. Final callbacks for Ordinary Angels is Saturday. Kayleigh's slumber party is Saturday night. Run run run.

Been listening to the new Trespassers William CD. For those unfamiliar with this LA-Seattle transplant quartet, they make the most beautifully haunting melodic alternative rock. Somewhat like Mazzy Star or The Doves or even an ethereal Cowboy Junkies. Or a mellow, downtempo version of And Tears Fell. I fell in love with their music about 7 years ago when I was doing the Starbug project and they were a fellow MP3.COM artist (along with Mira). And now they're up here - hope I can see them live one of these days. I know it's shocking - Todd still listens to mope rock. Yeah, what can I say? I've always had a dark streak - now I don't feel I need to hide it. :)