August 2007 - petrostudio LLC
So, this past week has been a little nutso. Actually, the past two to 3 weeks. Gearing up and then shooting parts of a short film in my tiny apartment, then packing all the shit up and lugging it somewhere to do the same has been nothing short of a nightmare.
But, we did get it done. And that’s something. I’ll post updates soon.
I realized something, though, during this process. While precariously balancing on one foot, leaning over a basket of laundry to stick a component video cable out onto a fire escape in order to see inside what the shot the cameraman, who was outside, was shooting of inside the apartment (how’s that shake up your spinal cord?) I realized that I cannot wait to move.
I said it.
I’m even anxious… sometimes wishing it was sooner. And I don’t want to leave the city life, and friends and the like, but I can’t wait to slow down for a bit.
I can’t wait for a driveway. And more than 3 rooms. And down-home cookin’. I’m excited to sit on a deck with my in-laws, drinking and laughing (the Scotts know how to enjoy a party). I’m actually looking forward to going to the grocery store, knowing on my return that I don’t have to try to carry 3 bags apiece on each arm, to cut down on trips up the stairs. And I can’t wait for my wife to be happy, looking out a kitchen window, calling up her mother to come over for dinner, being around her family.
Sure, we could have most of that in any suburb. And that’s kinda the point. It doesn’t matter. It just so happens that the suburb we’ve chosen is in the middle of the country. And I love the coast, I love being on an ocean. But I can give that up for a little while. For a little peace and quiet.
And for enough space that, should I have to put a cable out a window, I can just walk up to it, open it, and throw the cable out.
I had a dream last night. It was not a happy dream. I won’t say it was sad, though it was most certainly that, but sad, to me, is much more devastating than not happy. I guess what I mean to say is that, though not happy, it was moving. It got me thinking. And that’s never sad.
As most dreams go, it was disjointed, and half based in reality, half some fantasy or alternate world. It was disjointed, and I could not even tell you if everyone looked as they really do or not, but we were all clearly who I perceived us to be.
In the dream, a good friend of my family had passed away, and we were all devastated, I extremely so, for some reason. My sister was in charge of, or perhaps was guardian of this person’s baby, along with her own. The ancillary characters in the story are not important, and I don’t even remember who else was there.
At any rate, the only other person in the dream that I remember was my wife. She told me, at one point, that she sometimes walks by a friend’s apartment after work, just hoping that her friend would, for some reason, still be there.
You must understand that just dreaming, for me, is a rare occurrence. I know that scientists say we dream every night, but if that’s the case 99% of my dreams get such bad screenings on the way to the main room in my brain that I don’t even remember them. But this was different, I think. I think I had this dream because of an ongoing conversation I’ve been having with some people over moving and having kids. It’s the fear of change, and that we lose something when things change.
And the fact is, we do. You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone. And that’s a wonderful thing, I think. Oh, I know we’d all rather realize exactly what we’ve got, and worship it, adore it. But the fact is, we don’t. Out of the 10% of us out here who actually think, care and worry about our fellow human beings, how many of us actually stop to ENJOY what we are doing, right now? How many of us, like KV’s Uncle Alex, stop and say “If this isn’t nice, what is?”
Fact is, we NEED for things to change in order to make us realize that things WERE nice. “If that wasn’t nice, what is?” could be the phrase.
It would be great, astounding, to be able to stop, look around us and realize just how wonderful things are, and how much we tend to fuck them up by getting caught up on little, stupid minutia. And that’s what my dream was about. And that’s what life should be about. The clichés are around for a reason, I guess.
We could all take a lesson from change, and from all the people that have wandered in and out of our lives over the years. Some people remain a constant part of us, some don’t. But we can’t wait for something to leave to appreciate it.
If this isn’t nice, what is?
A sonogram is the picture derived from an ultrasound (technically, ultrasonography), which is cyclic sound pressure above the range of human hearing that allows computers and machines to form 2D and 3D images through flesh, muscle and bone.
And it’s really freakin’ cool, too. And kinda scary, as well. Not scary in that this image is frightening, but scary in that Sundi and I are, indeed, procreating. Or maybe it’s just scary that I’m going to be a pappy.
Coming March, 2008 – my offspring. Hide your children, lock up your valuables and, for your own sake, send me lots of money. Please! These freakin’ things are expensive, I hear.
And they are ticking time bombs – ticking, REPEATING time bombs. They go off 9 months after the drunken party, at which point you better have a room, clothes, diapers, crib, doody wipes and a desire not to sleep for 3 months all stored up. They then have repeating explosions throughout life – first day of school, field trips, puberty, driver’s license, graduation and, the kicker, college. You best be prepared, bitches, because they can go off at any time.
Plus, they shit their pants and puke on you. And that’s just rude.
So your worst fears are realized. I’m gonna be a daddy. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Travis, a Scottish band, released The Boy with No Name on May 4th – I just got it, so let’s pretend it is brand new. These guys precede Coldplay, Keane or Snow Patrol, and you can tell that those bands got a little influence from Travis, who were in turn influenced by Radiohead.
So they rock, basically.
I also picked up UB40’s greatest hits, which was released in 2000, on a whim. They rock, too. Who would’ve thought a white and black reggae band from Birmingham would be one of the genres best-selling bands? I would, considering they ride the mainstream bandwagon. But they still rock, so shut up.
Here’s what it’s like to go chasing corporations for money they owe you: imagine being Androcles in the tale of the Lion, yet instead of the Lion thanking Androcles for pulling the thorn from his claw, he turns and bites the ass out of him.
Welcome to my world. Coincidence that I am greek, as well?
Also, please watch the website a a pack of idiots: this is my production company, and we are gearing up to shoot a short in the next 2 weeks, so we are very excited. How excited are we? Our nipples have shot off.