4.30.2004
I WANT TO CHANGE MY LIFE
The only thing you can do to change your life, is to change yourself. It's all about the choices you make. You are responsible for your own life. Every choice you make has a consequence, good or bad. Make good choices, have a good life. Make bad choices, things may not turn out so good. Make no choices, and the choices get made for you... chances are you won't like the results. Sometimes unconscious choices made in the spur of the moment can dramatically change your life. This can be good or bad; usually bad. It is critical to make conscious choices, because unconscious choices without consideration for the consequences, can destroy relationships, and even lives. The surest road to a happy, successful life is to choose a good plan, and stick with it. The surest way to an unhappy, unsuccessful life is to make no plan at all. If you let life and the emotions of the moment carry you to wherever it will, you may not like where you end up.
You can never change another person. The fact is, very few people make any significant changes to their character in an entire lifetime. A cheater will always be a cheater. A liar will always be a liar. An honest man will always be an honest man. A selfish person will always be a selfish person.
You can never make choices for another person. Choices always have to come from within. Significant choices are made in every second of every moment of every day of every week of every year of every life. It is the sum of those choices that makes a life what it is. Sometimes the choices made by someone you love can cause you pain, and there isn't a friggin' thing that you can do about it, and if they keep making those same choices, knowing that those choices are causing you pain, then your only choice is to live with the pain or... set them free...
One example of a sometimes unconscious choice that will change your life completely
The only thing you can do to change your life, is to change yourself. It's all about the choices you make. You are responsible for your own life. Every choice you make has a consequence, good or bad. Make good choices, have a good life. Make bad choices, things may not turn out so good. Make no choices, and the choices get made for you... chances are you won't like the results. Sometimes unconscious choices made in the spur of the moment can dramatically change your life. This can be good or bad; usually bad. It is critical to make conscious choices, because unconscious choices without consideration for the consequences, can destroy relationships, and even lives. The surest road to a happy, successful life is to choose a good plan, and stick with it. The surest way to an unhappy, unsuccessful life is to make no plan at all. If you let life and the emotions of the moment carry you to wherever it will, you may not like where you end up.
You can never change another person. The fact is, very few people make any significant changes to their character in an entire lifetime. A cheater will always be a cheater. A liar will always be a liar. An honest man will always be an honest man. A selfish person will always be a selfish person.
You can never make choices for another person. Choices always have to come from within. Significant choices are made in every second of every moment of every day of every week of every year of every life. It is the sum of those choices that makes a life what it is. Sometimes the choices made by someone you love can cause you pain, and there isn't a friggin' thing that you can do about it, and if they keep making those same choices, knowing that those choices are causing you pain, then your only choice is to live with the pain or... set them free...
One example of a sometimes unconscious choice that will change your life completely
4.28.2004
Blurred Vision
Still recuperating from an amazing weekend on a four day shoot with an awesome crew. We shot a short film called "Blurred Vision" written by, and starring Travis Mason. I co-produced and co-directed with Travis. I'm excited about the footage, and can't wait to get to the editing process! Yeayyyy! Much thanks to the amazing crew - from Dana "MacGyver" Kopetzky (sound recordist), Zach "The Dutchman" Bangma (boom operator), Mary "Mary Quite Contrary" Sampaio (production designer who also stood in as makeup artist last minute), Zack Richard (Gaffer), David Sheetz (Grip), Alex Gutierrez (A.D.), Tim Otholt (2nd Camera), Tylo Taylor (whatever needed to be done including building faux walls), Melissa (P.A.) and Dom Ceci (P.A.) and of course, last but certainly not least, the amazingly talented Mark Atkins as DP. Also thanks to the talented actors: Fred Warner, Jennifer Gates and Michael LoVaglia, and to Travis for getting the whole project started. Monday night was a night of true guerrilla style filmmaking. A small crew including: Dana, Zach, Mary, Alex, David, Mark, myself, Travis, Michael and Jennifer out on Lake Elsinore shooting until 3:00 a.m. Jennifer was a real trooper - she got in the water at 2:00 a.m. to play dead. And although it was a warmer than usual night, she was still freezing cold. It was an incredibly surreal night. Fortunately our grip, David, amazingly enough knew how to pick the lock on the gate so that we could drive our cars back to the shoot location. Of course the drive back home was somewhat more of a challenge, with Mark trying to make me laugh to keep me awake.
Lake Elsinore
Still recuperating from an amazing weekend on a four day shoot with an awesome crew. We shot a short film called "Blurred Vision" written by, and starring Travis Mason. I co-produced and co-directed with Travis. I'm excited about the footage, and can't wait to get to the editing process! Yeayyyy! Much thanks to the amazing crew - from Dana "MacGyver" Kopetzky (sound recordist), Zach "The Dutchman" Bangma (boom operator), Mary "Mary Quite Contrary" Sampaio (production designer who also stood in as makeup artist last minute), Zack Richard (Gaffer), David Sheetz (Grip), Alex Gutierrez (A.D.), Tim Otholt (2nd Camera), Tylo Taylor (whatever needed to be done including building faux walls), Melissa (P.A.) and Dom Ceci (P.A.) and of course, last but certainly not least, the amazingly talented Mark Atkins as DP. Also thanks to the talented actors: Fred Warner, Jennifer Gates and Michael LoVaglia, and to Travis for getting the whole project started. Monday night was a night of true guerrilla style filmmaking. A small crew including: Dana, Zach, Mary, Alex, David, Mark, myself, Travis, Michael and Jennifer out on Lake Elsinore shooting until 3:00 a.m. Jennifer was a real trooper - she got in the water at 2:00 a.m. to play dead. And although it was a warmer than usual night, she was still freezing cold. It was an incredibly surreal night. Fortunately our grip, David, amazingly enough knew how to pick the lock on the gate so that we could drive our cars back to the shoot location. Of course the drive back home was somewhat more of a challenge, with Mark trying to make me laugh to keep me awake.
Lake Elsinore
4.22.2004
A Day In The Life of An Indie Producer
The Unedited Version
I crawl out of bed at 9:00 a.m., still half asleep, and overwhelmed by the number of things I have to do today. I go straight to the phone, still in my green satin pj's. I call the Inland Empire Film Commission. Nobody there. I leave a message. "Still waiting for that e-mail you were going to send me on Monday. This is Friday. I have to book that today for a location scout on Monday. Please send that asap. Thanks so much." I call and get everyone's insurance information for their equipment. I call Fred, one of the main characters to get his shirt size. I call Jennifer, the lead actress to get her dress size and ring size. Neither are there. I leave messages. I make 15 calls to various applicants for Production Assistant, Boom Operator and Grip. I check my e-mail. Still nothing from Inland Empire Film Commission. I disconnect the internet so I can fax the equipment list to FA. I make some coffee, but get too busy to drink it. The kids are still in bed. After all it's spring break. I look at the clock. Shit. I'm late. I rush into the bathroom, take a very quick bath, throw some clothes on, barely comb my hair, and run out the door. I'm driving too fast. There are cop cars everywhere. I slow down. My cell phone rings. It's Travis. "Where are you?" "On my way. I'll be there in five." (actually ten) "No problem". Finally pull into the Conrad's parking lot in Glendale. Pickup the insurance papers from Travis, and the production agreement. "Oh yeah, and we need a check for $500.00 for insurance, and a deposit on the credit card." My cell phone rings. Fred wears a medium, sometimes a large, if it runs small. Travis is laughing about a phone call he just got. Apparently our mutual friend Chris had his friend leave Travis a message. Travis is on his way to doing some extra work in exchange for a guaranteed SAG voucher. Well the message is pertaining to the extra work. Travis calls the guy back. "Are you the guy coming in to do some extra work today?" "Yeah, that's me". "Great. Just wanted to go over some details with you. Now the scene will be about you and this other guy. You're lovers. There will be some groping, so I hope you won't be offended by that." "What? This is a gay scene?" "Yeah, you have a problem with gays?" "Uh, no but.." "You have a problem with doing a gay scene?" "Yeah, I do." "So maybe you're the wrong guy for this job?" "Yeah I think so." Chris, you're so evil! I love it. So I jump in the car and rush back to Burbank, but I have to stop and pay a $650.00 phone bill on the way. (Ouch!) The lady behind the counter feels sorry for me. "Teenagers with cell phones", I explain. Then I stop in at Goodwill to find a dress for Jennifer. I find a really deep rich red dress that I think will work really well for her. No decent shirts for Fred though. The cashier looks like she's been behind that counter for too long. She's bored. "That's $6.99." I give her $7.00, then rush out the door. Jon's Market is across the street. I really should buy some food for the kids. I pull in, and see the Starbucks. Just what I need. I run into Starbucks, order a Venti Soy Latte. As I'm waiting, I notice that Starbucks is now giving out coffee grounds for your garden. Interesting. I wish I had a garden. I'm so thankful for my Soy Latte. I go into Jon's Market, I buy lemons and limes, fresh strawberries, apples and oranges, zucchini, onions, orange and green peppers, cilantro and italian parsley, bananas and vine-ripened tomatoes. A big tub of creamy plain yogurt, fresh tortillas, and of course, fresh Armenian bread. Oh, and I splurge. I buy a bottle of Sour Cherry syrup. The kids love it. There's an older Armenian lady behind me in the line. She has white hair that she pulls back into a bun. She doesn't speak english, but she keeps smiling at me with a very kind smile. I like her. A young Armenian girl takes my groceries out to my car. I try to tip her. She won't take it. She gives me a big smile. Where to now? The mall. Mervyns. I have to buy the slate blue t-shirt for Fred. I'm still driving too fast. I run into Mervyn's. The men's section. How about this one? Nope. Too light. Here's one. It's perfect. I take it to the checkout counter. The cashier is stressed. Two cash registers are making incredibly annoying beeping sounds. I remind myself that I won't have to be here long. Another cashier comes to help. She has a very warm smile. The t-shirt is on sale. It's only $5.59. Not bad. I literally run out to the car. Gotta get home. Still have to go downtown to the FA offices. I call Mark to see if he wants to have lunch later. No answer. I leave a message. I run upstairs. Jordan is in the living room trying to get on-line. Jasmine is watching Meet Joe Black in the bedroom, and Jonathan is composing a song for his new animated film he's working on. He wants me to listen to it. It sounds like eerie clown music. It's good. He's pleased. He's trying to write eerie clown music. Then I realize that Jordan can't get on line because I connected the phone line to the fax machine when I faxed the equipment list to FA this morning. I reconnect the internet for him. Then I tell them, "there's food in the car". The next thing I know I'm alone. They're all getting the food out of the car. Food being the magic word here. I hardly eat any of the hundreds of dollars worth of food that I buy every week. The phone rings. It's Mark. He just woke up. Yeah let's have lunch. How about an hour from now? Sure. See you then. That gives me an hour to rush downtown, find parking, go through all the documentation with Tracy, and then drive to Hollywood. Oh, and I have to put some makeup on. Quickly. I do a five minute makeup, give everyone hugs and kisses good-bye. By now they are all chowing down on the Strawberries and armenian bread. Love you, see you later. I'm downtown, I find parking right next to the building. The attendant seems like a really nice guy. I sign in at the front desk. Thank God the elevators are working. Seventh floor. Run down the hall. Tracy looks happy to see me. She smiles really big. She tells me about her short film that she is just finishing up. She wants to show it to me. Sure I'd love to see it. We walk down the hall to the editing suite. It's a great little film about two guys with umbrellas who start fencing, and then their imagination transports them back to old times with real swords. Then we go over the insurance paperwork, the check, the credit card form, the production agreement. It's all good. Can I e-mail you the list of people for insurance certs? Sure, no problem. Great. Gotta run. It's almost 2:30. I was supposed to meet Mark at 2:00. I finally get back on the road. Traffic, great. I call Mark. Busy signal. He's probably on the internet. I finally get to Hollywood at 2:45. I call from the phone downstairs. Still busy. I call his cell phone. I'll be right down. Five minutes later I see his face, and I feel something is wrong. I get flashes of an e-mail. Her maybe? Is he still thinking about her? Erica, don't jump to conclusions. He gets in the car, and gives me that look I love, as if he carries his soul in his eyes. Where to go? California Chicken Cafe? Nah. Poquito Mas sounds good. Too far. Baja Fresh? It's close. I guess that will work. I pickup feelings from Mark. He is depressed. Yesterday he seemed fine. What happened? We sit down to eat outside. He's frustrated about his car, the editing, not feeling like he's getting anywhere. But there's something else too. Something he's not saying. I say, "Is there something else bothering you? Or is it just feeling like you can't get ahead?" "Just frustrated." We drive over to see if that Saab is still parked on Fuller. Nope. Not there. I ask him if he got my e-mails. He says he saw the e-mail about The Virginian, and he agrees. They do look alike. We laugh about it. Then I drive him over to the book store next to the Viper Room, so he can look up director and DP agencies. Friday afternoon traffic is a nightmare. I have to go straight to work. Supposed to be there at 4:00, I get there at 5:08. I change in the car. Inundated with phone calls in my office, and e-mails. Michael is back. He comes into my office to tell me about his trip to Las Vegas, how he thought he had Scarlett Fever, but it turns out that it wasn't. Thank God. Richard stops in to tell me about his trip out to the desert with his brother. He jokes about how he should stop dying his hair grey and white, and how he really should stop plucking the hairs out of his head, making his hair thin, and just go back to his normal head of full brown hair. He has such a great sense of humor. Suddenly we get a couple of deals and I get busy. On my way to getting a cup of coffee, my dearest friend Suzanne gives me a heartfelt hug, and tells me about her trip to New York. I tell her about my daughter's night out. She sympathizes. I go back to my office. It hits me then. He's still reading her blog. I know it. Just a feeling. I get on-line and I go to her blog. I read "Mark referred me to a very cool graphic designer/photographer’s site today. Check out Richie Fahey’s neo-retro." Suddenly my heart drops about 100 feet into hell. I so wanted to be wrong. I just showed Richie Fahey's site to Mark last week. It feels like betrayal. That was my cool find.
I think I understand why Mark is drawn to her. She represents gothic glamour; intellectual sexuality; the elusive, sultry jewish taxi-dancer that is always just out of reach. She beckons to him from the dark, while I beckon to him from the light. Sometimes the dark can seem much more interesting. But I've been there; entangled in the claustrophobic clutches of jealousy, compulsion, fascination, obsession. Once you're in its grasp, it draws you down, down, down. You can lose sight of everything; your dreams, your goals. It drains your energy, ambition, takes away your joie de vivre. You can get lost in it.
Two more deals come in. I sit stone-faced in my office, trying to smile and be cool. It doesn't go over very well. Dina, the salesperson who got the last deal asks me what's wrong after the client's leave. Oh, I just feel like an idiot. It's just feelings I get. I could be wrong. But I know I'm not. She sympathizes. She just got back with her boyfriend last week. She was in emotional turmoil only two weeks ago. She gives me a hug. "Don't call him. Wait for him to call you." We get out early. I could actually go out and do something. I feel like shit. I'll just go home. I drive home, dragging my heart behind me. I pull into the parking garage, and in dismay, I see my exhusbands car parked in my spot. I back out. What now? I break down and I call Mark's cell. No answer. I don't leave a message. I have no more self-control when it comes to him, than he does when he comes to her, I chide myself. I drive up to the foothills. I want to go for a hike. It's almost midnight now. I just need to be alone, to figure it out. Everything was going so well. I thought maybe he was over her at last. I meditate. Need to let go of the pain. Need to think clearly. It's not like he would ever be physically unfaithful, only with his heart. A thought flashes: I don't want his body if I can't have his heart too. Maybe I could be wrong. Couldn't I be wrong? I'm not wrong. I'm never wrong about these things. Sometimes I hate getting these little psychic insights. Oh to be blissfully ignorant. Lovers drive up and park next to me, looking for a place for romance. I leave. I drive home. Fortunately the ex's car is gone. Jonathan is watching Swimfan. Jasmine is watching Jerry Macguire. Jordan is spending the night with his friend. I take a hot bath. I check my e-mail. Still nothing from the Inland Empire Film Commission. There's an e-mail from the production designer. We need to get together next week to take the photos. I'll be out of town this weekend. The phone rings. It's Mark. It's 1:00 a.m. Should I answer it? No. Yes. No. I answer it. "Hi." "Hi. I'm out with Steven Ritchie, Rick, Jeff Williams and Colin. Everyone's asking about you. Where's Erica? and Don. He wants to work on the film next week as a PA." "Great. Sounds like you're having fun." "Yeah. Just wanted to see if you were still up to coming out with us." "Naah. Gotta get up at 9:00 tomorrow. But thanks for asking. I called you about an hour and a half ago" "Yeah, I didn't hear my phone ring, and then I saw that you had called. I haven't checked the message yet." "I didn't leave a message". When someone calls at 1:00 a.m. to ask you to join them, are they truly sincere? If it were anyone but Mark I'd say no. "Well you're working tomorrow during the day right? Give me a call if you want to get together tomorrow night." "Sure. I'll call you tomorrow. Have a good night. Tell everyone I said hi." He knows something's wrong. I put my satin pajamas on and get in bed. My daughter is still watching Jerry Maguire. I hear "Show me the money" "I love black people". "Honey, can you finish watching that tomorrow, please? I need to get some sleep." I lie down, wishing that my heart didn't feel like it was made of lead, sinking to the floor beneath my bed. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
Me & Mark on New Year's Eve The Virginian
Okay, you be the judge. They do look alot alike don't they?
The Unedited Version
I crawl out of bed at 9:00 a.m., still half asleep, and overwhelmed by the number of things I have to do today. I go straight to the phone, still in my green satin pj's. I call the Inland Empire Film Commission. Nobody there. I leave a message. "Still waiting for that e-mail you were going to send me on Monday. This is Friday. I have to book that today for a location scout on Monday. Please send that asap. Thanks so much." I call and get everyone's insurance information for their equipment. I call Fred, one of the main characters to get his shirt size. I call Jennifer, the lead actress to get her dress size and ring size. Neither are there. I leave messages. I make 15 calls to various applicants for Production Assistant, Boom Operator and Grip. I check my e-mail. Still nothing from Inland Empire Film Commission. I disconnect the internet so I can fax the equipment list to FA. I make some coffee, but get too busy to drink it. The kids are still in bed. After all it's spring break. I look at the clock. Shit. I'm late. I rush into the bathroom, take a very quick bath, throw some clothes on, barely comb my hair, and run out the door. I'm driving too fast. There are cop cars everywhere. I slow down. My cell phone rings. It's Travis. "Where are you?" "On my way. I'll be there in five." (actually ten) "No problem". Finally pull into the Conrad's parking lot in Glendale. Pickup the insurance papers from Travis, and the production agreement. "Oh yeah, and we need a check for $500.00 for insurance, and a deposit on the credit card." My cell phone rings. Fred wears a medium, sometimes a large, if it runs small. Travis is laughing about a phone call he just got. Apparently our mutual friend Chris had his friend leave Travis a message. Travis is on his way to doing some extra work in exchange for a guaranteed SAG voucher. Well the message is pertaining to the extra work. Travis calls the guy back. "Are you the guy coming in to do some extra work today?" "Yeah, that's me". "Great. Just wanted to go over some details with you. Now the scene will be about you and this other guy. You're lovers. There will be some groping, so I hope you won't be offended by that." "What? This is a gay scene?" "Yeah, you have a problem with gays?" "Uh, no but.." "You have a problem with doing a gay scene?" "Yeah, I do." "So maybe you're the wrong guy for this job?" "Yeah I think so." Chris, you're so evil! I love it. So I jump in the car and rush back to Burbank, but I have to stop and pay a $650.00 phone bill on the way. (Ouch!) The lady behind the counter feels sorry for me. "Teenagers with cell phones", I explain. Then I stop in at Goodwill to find a dress for Jennifer. I find a really deep rich red dress that I think will work really well for her. No decent shirts for Fred though. The cashier looks like she's been behind that counter for too long. She's bored. "That's $6.99." I give her $7.00, then rush out the door. Jon's Market is across the street. I really should buy some food for the kids. I pull in, and see the Starbucks. Just what I need. I run into Starbucks, order a Venti Soy Latte. As I'm waiting, I notice that Starbucks is now giving out coffee grounds for your garden. Interesting. I wish I had a garden. I'm so thankful for my Soy Latte. I go into Jon's Market, I buy lemons and limes, fresh strawberries, apples and oranges, zucchini, onions, orange and green peppers, cilantro and italian parsley, bananas and vine-ripened tomatoes. A big tub of creamy plain yogurt, fresh tortillas, and of course, fresh Armenian bread. Oh, and I splurge. I buy a bottle of Sour Cherry syrup. The kids love it. There's an older Armenian lady behind me in the line. She has white hair that she pulls back into a bun. She doesn't speak english, but she keeps smiling at me with a very kind smile. I like her. A young Armenian girl takes my groceries out to my car. I try to tip her. She won't take it. She gives me a big smile. Where to now? The mall. Mervyns. I have to buy the slate blue t-shirt for Fred. I'm still driving too fast. I run into Mervyn's. The men's section. How about this one? Nope. Too light. Here's one. It's perfect. I take it to the checkout counter. The cashier is stressed. Two cash registers are making incredibly annoying beeping sounds. I remind myself that I won't have to be here long. Another cashier comes to help. She has a very warm smile. The t-shirt is on sale. It's only $5.59. Not bad. I literally run out to the car. Gotta get home. Still have to go downtown to the FA offices. I call Mark to see if he wants to have lunch later. No answer. I leave a message. I run upstairs. Jordan is in the living room trying to get on-line. Jasmine is watching Meet Joe Black in the bedroom, and Jonathan is composing a song for his new animated film he's working on. He wants me to listen to it. It sounds like eerie clown music. It's good. He's pleased. He's trying to write eerie clown music. Then I realize that Jordan can't get on line because I connected the phone line to the fax machine when I faxed the equipment list to FA this morning. I reconnect the internet for him. Then I tell them, "there's food in the car". The next thing I know I'm alone. They're all getting the food out of the car. Food being the magic word here. I hardly eat any of the hundreds of dollars worth of food that I buy every week. The phone rings. It's Mark. He just woke up. Yeah let's have lunch. How about an hour from now? Sure. See you then. That gives me an hour to rush downtown, find parking, go through all the documentation with Tracy, and then drive to Hollywood. Oh, and I have to put some makeup on. Quickly. I do a five minute makeup, give everyone hugs and kisses good-bye. By now they are all chowing down on the Strawberries and armenian bread. Love you, see you later. I'm downtown, I find parking right next to the building. The attendant seems like a really nice guy. I sign in at the front desk. Thank God the elevators are working. Seventh floor. Run down the hall. Tracy looks happy to see me. She smiles really big. She tells me about her short film that she is just finishing up. She wants to show it to me. Sure I'd love to see it. We walk down the hall to the editing suite. It's a great little film about two guys with umbrellas who start fencing, and then their imagination transports them back to old times with real swords. Then we go over the insurance paperwork, the check, the credit card form, the production agreement. It's all good. Can I e-mail you the list of people for insurance certs? Sure, no problem. Great. Gotta run. It's almost 2:30. I was supposed to meet Mark at 2:00. I finally get back on the road. Traffic, great. I call Mark. Busy signal. He's probably on the internet. I finally get to Hollywood at 2:45. I call from the phone downstairs. Still busy. I call his cell phone. I'll be right down. Five minutes later I see his face, and I feel something is wrong. I get flashes of an e-mail. Her maybe? Is he still thinking about her? Erica, don't jump to conclusions. He gets in the car, and gives me that look I love, as if he carries his soul in his eyes. Where to go? California Chicken Cafe? Nah. Poquito Mas sounds good. Too far. Baja Fresh? It's close. I guess that will work. I pickup feelings from Mark. He is depressed. Yesterday he seemed fine. What happened? We sit down to eat outside. He's frustrated about his car, the editing, not feeling like he's getting anywhere. But there's something else too. Something he's not saying. I say, "Is there something else bothering you? Or is it just feeling like you can't get ahead?" "Just frustrated." We drive over to see if that Saab is still parked on Fuller. Nope. Not there. I ask him if he got my e-mails. He says he saw the e-mail about The Virginian, and he agrees. They do look alike. We laugh about it. Then I drive him over to the book store next to the Viper Room, so he can look up director and DP agencies. Friday afternoon traffic is a nightmare. I have to go straight to work. Supposed to be there at 4:00, I get there at 5:08. I change in the car. Inundated with phone calls in my office, and e-mails. Michael is back. He comes into my office to tell me about his trip to Las Vegas, how he thought he had Scarlett Fever, but it turns out that it wasn't. Thank God. Richard stops in to tell me about his trip out to the desert with his brother. He jokes about how he should stop dying his hair grey and white, and how he really should stop plucking the hairs out of his head, making his hair thin, and just go back to his normal head of full brown hair. He has such a great sense of humor. Suddenly we get a couple of deals and I get busy. On my way to getting a cup of coffee, my dearest friend Suzanne gives me a heartfelt hug, and tells me about her trip to New York. I tell her about my daughter's night out. She sympathizes. I go back to my office. It hits me then. He's still reading her blog. I know it. Just a feeling. I get on-line and I go to her blog. I read "Mark referred me to a very cool graphic designer/photographer’s site today. Check out Richie Fahey’s neo-retro." Suddenly my heart drops about 100 feet into hell. I so wanted to be wrong. I just showed Richie Fahey's site to Mark last week. It feels like betrayal. That was my cool find.
I think I understand why Mark is drawn to her. She represents gothic glamour; intellectual sexuality; the elusive, sultry jewish taxi-dancer that is always just out of reach. She beckons to him from the dark, while I beckon to him from the light. Sometimes the dark can seem much more interesting. But I've been there; entangled in the claustrophobic clutches of jealousy, compulsion, fascination, obsession. Once you're in its grasp, it draws you down, down, down. You can lose sight of everything; your dreams, your goals. It drains your energy, ambition, takes away your joie de vivre. You can get lost in it.
Two more deals come in. I sit stone-faced in my office, trying to smile and be cool. It doesn't go over very well. Dina, the salesperson who got the last deal asks me what's wrong after the client's leave. Oh, I just feel like an idiot. It's just feelings I get. I could be wrong. But I know I'm not. She sympathizes. She just got back with her boyfriend last week. She was in emotional turmoil only two weeks ago. She gives me a hug. "Don't call him. Wait for him to call you." We get out early. I could actually go out and do something. I feel like shit. I'll just go home. I drive home, dragging my heart behind me. I pull into the parking garage, and in dismay, I see my exhusbands car parked in my spot. I back out. What now? I break down and I call Mark's cell. No answer. I don't leave a message. I have no more self-control when it comes to him, than he does when he comes to her, I chide myself. I drive up to the foothills. I want to go for a hike. It's almost midnight now. I just need to be alone, to figure it out. Everything was going so well. I thought maybe he was over her at last. I meditate. Need to let go of the pain. Need to think clearly. It's not like he would ever be physically unfaithful, only with his heart. A thought flashes: I don't want his body if I can't have his heart too. Maybe I could be wrong. Couldn't I be wrong? I'm not wrong. I'm never wrong about these things. Sometimes I hate getting these little psychic insights. Oh to be blissfully ignorant. Lovers drive up and park next to me, looking for a place for romance. I leave. I drive home. Fortunately the ex's car is gone. Jonathan is watching Swimfan. Jasmine is watching Jerry Macguire. Jordan is spending the night with his friend. I take a hot bath. I check my e-mail. Still nothing from the Inland Empire Film Commission. There's an e-mail from the production designer. We need to get together next week to take the photos. I'll be out of town this weekend. The phone rings. It's Mark. It's 1:00 a.m. Should I answer it? No. Yes. No. I answer it. "Hi." "Hi. I'm out with Steven Ritchie, Rick, Jeff Williams and Colin. Everyone's asking about you. Where's Erica? and Don. He wants to work on the film next week as a PA." "Great. Sounds like you're having fun." "Yeah. Just wanted to see if you were still up to coming out with us." "Naah. Gotta get up at 9:00 tomorrow. But thanks for asking. I called you about an hour and a half ago" "Yeah, I didn't hear my phone ring, and then I saw that you had called. I haven't checked the message yet." "I didn't leave a message". When someone calls at 1:00 a.m. to ask you to join them, are they truly sincere? If it were anyone but Mark I'd say no. "Well you're working tomorrow during the day right? Give me a call if you want to get together tomorrow night." "Sure. I'll call you tomorrow. Have a good night. Tell everyone I said hi." He knows something's wrong. I put my satin pajamas on and get in bed. My daughter is still watching Jerry Maguire. I hear "Show me the money" "I love black people". "Honey, can you finish watching that tomorrow, please? I need to get some sleep." I lie down, wishing that my heart didn't feel like it was made of lead, sinking to the floor beneath my bed. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
Me & Mark on New Year's Eve The Virginian
Okay, you be the judge. They do look alot alike don't they?
4.15.2004
You come to love not by finding the perfect person,
but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.
but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.
The Mysteries of the Universe
When I see incredible beauty such as the Orion Nebula, I realize how small and insignificant are the problems of this earth. I just want to get lost in such beauty.
The Orion Nebula, in all its glory
You want to feel really insignificant? Follow this link:
When I see incredible beauty such as the Orion Nebula, I realize how small and insignificant are the problems of this earth. I just want to get lost in such beauty.
The Orion Nebula, in all its glory
You want to feel really insignificant? Follow this link:
4.14.2004
It's amazing to me how one person can have such an incredible impact on my emotions. My heart can go from dizzying heights of ecstasy to the deepest, darkest fathoms of agony in less than a second. One unfortunate piece of news is enough to send my heart to the depths of hell. This is highly unusual for me. I am typically very even keeled. I have always prided myself on my ability to never get stressed. Not so now. Now my heart seems to be on a rollercoaster ride of unpredictable chaos. So am I enjoying the ride? Hell yeah! Of course, I am actually only enjoying the dizzying heights of ecstasy, but unfortunately, nothing can exist without its opposite. Hopefully, things will eventually settle into an even bliss.
Ecstasy & Agony
(Actually, The Abduction of Psyche & Biblis by William Bouguereau)
Ecstasy & Agony
(Actually, The Abduction of Psyche & Biblis by William Bouguereau)
4.09.2004
This is one of those days where I smile, but only with my mouth. Where I laugh, but without any joy. I'm amazingly good at it. I'm surrounded by people, and none of them have a clue. It would take someone who knows me very well to see the pain oozing from every pore. Oh, darkest days of my heart, why can't he let her go? I pray that he can, because if he can't, then I have no choice but to let him go. My heart has suffered enough.
4.07.2004
Unrequited Love is A Bitter Cup
"Yet again have I given my heart to someone whose heart belongs to someone else. How did this happen? I was certain this time would be different. In my defense, I did not know that his love belonged to someone else when my heart fell. In his defense, he is no longer in her embrace. However, that is no comfort to me. I am too familiar with the disease that has stricken humanity. If there is something we cannot have, it is certain that we will want it, and the more we cannot have it, the more we will want it, until it becomes the one thing that we desire above all else. How can I compete with that? It would be better for me if she were to declare her undying love, and then let time and reality provide an even playing ground wherein love would eventually show its true face.
Mine are the lips that he kisses, but hers are the lips that he desires. He lies within my embrace, but would be gone in an instant if she were but to call his name. So what am I to do? For what is life without love? And when one is in love, one must love. "Woe is me", cries my heart. "This is not fair. Have I not tasted enough of sorrow, pain and bitter disappointment to last through several lifetimes?" Perhaps. But neither life nor love have ever claimed to be fair. Unrequited love is a bitter cup, when what I sought was a love, pure, simple and sweet and not bitter. But that is not the love that has been offered. There are no lessons to be learned without pain. And we always bring to ourselves the lessons that we must learn. So what is the lesson herein? My spirit answers simply, "To learn to love unconditionally, and be unattached to the outcome." Why would I choose such a lesson? Unconditional love means to love regardless of whether one is being loved in return. There can be no conditions. Unattachment to the outcome, meaning that regardless of what may come, we may not be attached to any particular outcome. My ego cries out, "This is ridiculous. How can we love if the one we love is thinking of and wanting to be with someone else? How can we be unattached to some kind of commitment and show of love in return for our love?" Ego, step aside. You can do nothing but harm here. I know that the outcome may be disastrous for my heart, but if I can truly embrace and learn this lesson, I will be far richer, and have far more to offer humanity."
I wrote the above in December when I first discovered that the man I love was in love with someone else. Needless to say, my heart has suffered a rollercoaster ride in the past few months. Has anything changed? I thought so, but perhaps not. But in these months, I have at last come to the realization that unconditional love does not require my heart to be sacrificed on the cross of unrequited love. Unconditional love does not require me to settle for being his second choice. And if I truly love him unconditionally, then I will want for him that which will make him happy, even if what makes him happy takes him away from me. If I am his lover, it will be nearly impossible for me to wish for him to be with another, even if that is what he desires. So must I choose to love him without condition as a friend only? Je ne sais pas. Only time will tell. Loving unconditionally I can do. Unattachment to the outcome is the true challenge here.
"Yet again have I given my heart to someone whose heart belongs to someone else. How did this happen? I was certain this time would be different. In my defense, I did not know that his love belonged to someone else when my heart fell. In his defense, he is no longer in her embrace. However, that is no comfort to me. I am too familiar with the disease that has stricken humanity. If there is something we cannot have, it is certain that we will want it, and the more we cannot have it, the more we will want it, until it becomes the one thing that we desire above all else. How can I compete with that? It would be better for me if she were to declare her undying love, and then let time and reality provide an even playing ground wherein love would eventually show its true face.
Mine are the lips that he kisses, but hers are the lips that he desires. He lies within my embrace, but would be gone in an instant if she were but to call his name. So what am I to do? For what is life without love? And when one is in love, one must love. "Woe is me", cries my heart. "This is not fair. Have I not tasted enough of sorrow, pain and bitter disappointment to last through several lifetimes?" Perhaps. But neither life nor love have ever claimed to be fair. Unrequited love is a bitter cup, when what I sought was a love, pure, simple and sweet and not bitter. But that is not the love that has been offered. There are no lessons to be learned without pain. And we always bring to ourselves the lessons that we must learn. So what is the lesson herein? My spirit answers simply, "To learn to love unconditionally, and be unattached to the outcome." Why would I choose such a lesson? Unconditional love means to love regardless of whether one is being loved in return. There can be no conditions. Unattachment to the outcome, meaning that regardless of what may come, we may not be attached to any particular outcome. My ego cries out, "This is ridiculous. How can we love if the one we love is thinking of and wanting to be with someone else? How can we be unattached to some kind of commitment and show of love in return for our love?" Ego, step aside. You can do nothing but harm here. I know that the outcome may be disastrous for my heart, but if I can truly embrace and learn this lesson, I will be far richer, and have far more to offer humanity."
I wrote the above in December when I first discovered that the man I love was in love with someone else. Needless to say, my heart has suffered a rollercoaster ride in the past few months. Has anything changed? I thought so, but perhaps not. But in these months, I have at last come to the realization that unconditional love does not require my heart to be sacrificed on the cross of unrequited love. Unconditional love does not require me to settle for being his second choice. And if I truly love him unconditionally, then I will want for him that which will make him happy, even if what makes him happy takes him away from me. If I am his lover, it will be nearly impossible for me to wish for him to be with another, even if that is what he desires. So must I choose to love him without condition as a friend only? Je ne sais pas. Only time will tell. Loving unconditionally I can do. Unattachment to the outcome is the true challenge here.
4.01.2004
My passion for life goes deep. So far I have been very fortunate. And it just keeps getting better. I know that we bring in to our lives that which we desire. What we put our focus on is what expands in our life. Right now my heart is full of gratitude for what life has brought me, and what life continues to bring me. That doesn't mean that every moment will be easy. There will always be struggle. For the passion of life includes pain and suffering as well as pleasure. For in a world of opposites, nothing can exist without its opposite. There can be no pleasure without pain. There can be no love without hate. There can be no gain without loss. Therefore, while in pain's grasp, we must be thankful and not resentful, because we know that pleasure cannot exist without pain. And we must be thankful for the beauty of each fleeting moment, for one thing that we can count upon is that all things change. Nothing ever stays the same. But perhaps knowing that the perfection of this moment cannot last, just as the perfection of a budding flower cannot last, allows us a deeper appreciation of the beauty inherent in each moment. Live deeply and, drink thirstily from each moment; let not one drop of life pass by without your fullest appreciation.
