The Crack in the Floor Sunday, Aug 16 2009

The last couple of days were rough. It feels silly and stupid to write that in the past tense — the roughness only stopped about ten minutes ago when I left my bed and logged on. I didn’t expect that to make me feel better, but for some reason giving up on sleep and listening to some woe-is-us break-up music has soothed me.

Resentment and I have been slugging it out, toe-to-toe, and it’s been to the gym since the last time we squared off.

I know it’s no good, these thoughts of blame and anger directed at someone else. It’s chewing over rotten meat — all you’re left with is mold on your tongue. But it’s such a challenge to escape.

I try to keep an even keel. I remind myself of my own one-sidedness, recall my own persistant failure to love. I acknowledge that the way I feel now that we are no longer together must be very similar to they way my wife often felt while we were. I admit to all the time I was given to change and make better choices, choices that considered someone else’s feelings over my own. Now I don’t have that time anymore. Now it’s my feelings left in the dark.

It’s only fair.

But that doesn’t make it right.

And there’s the crack in the floor I fall into. Because whatever fed into it, the ripping apart of two people joined by vows is a betrayal. The fact that my daughter doesn’t live with me anymore, she visits; soap gets in her eyes during her bath and she cries for mommy — the simplest, most natural request of a child — and I have to tell her she’ll see mommy tomorrow, because mommy’s somewhere else.

You feel powerless and it’s natural to point fingers at someone else.

But that’s the lie. I feel powerless. But that’s only how I feel. And I’m learning to perceive through the illusion.

Anger is a threat response. Someone cuts you off on the freeway, you feel endangered, you yell in your car. Doesn’t make you any safer.

I’ve been wrestling with resentment and anger and bitterness. Somehow, tonight during the walk from my bedroom to the office, I stepped out of the ring. Somehow my soul recognized that everything that upsets me is a lie. And a lie only has power over you if you engage it. Fight or give in, you are subject to it either way. You win by not fighting.

So I didn’t come through as a husband. I’m a better man today then I was yesterday.

So I was betrayed. That’s a result of someone else’s choice to believe a lie. I don’t have to believe it too.

So my daughter got soap in her eyes. We rinsed it out. She went to sleep. In the morning she’ll wake up and see her mommy.

And that’s something to be grateful for.

“We are continually faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as insoluble problems.”
- John W. Gardner

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On Poor Writing Thursday, Aug 6 2009

I’m sitting at a red light. To my right is a video store. In this day of the download, those old brick-and-mortars don’t look so hot. Oh, they try — but so do the trannies in fishnets back on Santa Monica boulevard.

Still no green. I look at a very large poster for a movie I’ve never heard of.

The design elements are:

* a whole lot of white space

* a title I don’t remember

* a tagline in a font too small to read from the street despite the poster’s window filling acreage

* a man

* a woman who is Beyoncé

* another woman

* the arrangement of man-woman-woman to imply a love triangle of menacing nature

So, an awful poster for what looks like an awful movie.

I grew up in this neighborhood. I know this is the longest red light in town, but still — get me out of here.

Then everything that is on my right resonates with everything that is off in my life:

What if I write a movie like that? What if I write a screenplay and I think its really good because its the best I can do but then I see the poster and its something like that because frankly the marketing guys just don’t have a lot to work with? And the movie is awful and uninteresting and even I want to change the channel because I caught it on TV — didn’t even bother to DVR it — because frankly the director and actors and even the art department didn’t have anything more to work with than the marketing guys?

What if I write a bad movie?

I relate this story over sushi to my friend, a business director in her position and a novelist in her soul. The sun is now disappearing outside.  “Well,” she says, handing the black check presenter back to our server with her credit card inside,  “At least you’d get paid.”

My friend is very clever, and she’s right: I should be so lucky.

Back in the car, and now I’m looking out at the morning sun in the rearview mirror.

You should be so lucky, to write a terrible movie. If your first draft is coherent at all, it would be a happy accident.

I think of a screenplay sitting in my closet at home: a copy of an early draft of The Last Samurai. Its radically different than the story that Edward Zwick actually filmed, and not nearly as satisfying. Captain Algren isn’t a drunken soldier of fortune haunted by memories of genocide — he’s the darling of West Point. Katsumoto is the enemy and he stays the enemy. Algren is married, and his wife dies — predictably. All in all, rather bland.

“I’m like that too,” my friend says between sips of water. “I want it to be perfect the first time.”

“I guess it’s like what Hemingway said about first drafts,” I reply.

We smile at each other. We’re both writers; we know the quote. No need to curse during dinner.

The light turns green, and I pass through the intersection and continue towards the onramp. Time to go home and write something awful.

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Feedback Tuesday, Jun 10 2008

Went to Monkey Butler last night. Gabe was giving us personal evaluations, so it was a good chance to get his observations on where I need to develop as a performer.

So funny how improv training is synonymous with life training.

After class I went over to Chris Taylor’s house to see my buddy Nate. Chris is out of town on business, but his girlfriend Jeanne was there. She is an amazing woman, and becomes more amazing to me every time we talk and I learn more of her story. Last night she looks at me and says (with her wonderful French accent), “You’ve changed since the last time I saw you.”

Jeanne’s incredibly perceptive, so that got me to sit up and take notice. “Really? What’s different?”

“When I look into your eyes, there’s confidence. It wasn’t there before. I could see it even when you were outside, coming up to the house.”

Nate echoed the observation. “Oh yeah dude. You’re totally different then you were when I met you.”

I know there are still huge gaps in my life where I’m not confident at all, things where hidden terrors hold me back from moving forward.
But I am coming to accept that I can move forward. I have in other areas, I can in all others. Its the paradox of taking responsibility: you are where you want to be. You brought yourself here, but by the same token you can take yourself somewhere else.

Jeanne and Nate finished their wine, I had a beer. We talked more about adversity and purpose, relationships and vulnerability.

I haven’t achieved total victory over the darkness in my life. But the fact that my friends see the light that has come, the ground that’s been taken; this a great encouragement. I’m totally in love with these two people.

The couch was offered for me to crash on, and I accepted. These days I take every night I don’t come home as an adventurous accomplishment.

Nate’s off to visit family in Indiana for a week and half. Said goodbye and see you soon, then hopped on my bike and rolled down the hill to my place.

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Day Tripper Tuesday, Jun 3 2008

A Metro Day Pass in L.A. is $5. With it you can hop on any city bus or subway and go where it takes you.

Which is what I did Sunday.

Started by getting on the bus here in Pasadena at 9:00am. A transfer in Eagle Rock brought me to Say Cheese restaurant in Silver Lake, where a co-worker of mine works the Sunday Brunch shift. Say Cheese has good coffee, good prices and–what else?–great cheese. Chatted with Nicolai a bit and then, after finishing my Ham and Gruyere croissant at 11:30 got up to go who knows where.

I like to navigate by sense of direction, so I set my feet south on Hyperion Blvd and started walking. Went over a few hills and took in the vistas of Los Feliz, Hollywood, Downtown–the charred patches of Griffith Park from last year’s fire. Walked past the dog parks on Silver Lake Blvd and up the east side of the Reservoir, then down to Glendale Blvd. Saw the Red Lion, where Mark–another co-worker and fellow screenwriter–used to work. They had a big sign saying they serve Bitburger beer, so I think that’s where ‘ll go with my parents next time they’re in town.

Caught a bus into the city. They were shooting a movie called Hotel for Dogs. Whatever.

Stepped into the lobby of the Wilshire Grand to get away from the street noise so I could make a phone call. Turns out there pool gate doesn’t have any sort of lock or keypass on it. So I grabbed a chaise lounge and tried to even out my farmer’s tan.

Had some Thai food at this great little place with a sweet old lady, then went to the Mayan to see if there was any help I could offer with set-up. My meager contribution was carrying a table and a box for Jason, the DJ; we hung out and traded stories for an hour or so. His fiancee used to babysit Adee–they’re getting married in five weeks!

Church was awesome. The speaker, Hank, is an exciting new voice at Mosaic with a fascinating life. At one point he asked if there were any parents in the audience–mine was the only hand that went up. Sort of a little snapshot of my present life and context.

At the end of the message Erwin took the mic for a moment just to let people know that he was indeed present, that Hank wasn’t filling in, but rather “he’s first string.” Erwin’s so good at encouraging and lifting people up. Even though he only said about four sentences, I was tearing up at the genuine respect and affection he was showing his protege. It was a public act that pulled back the curtain a bit on the real beauty of relationships.

Saw a lot of friends: Andy, Ray, Garett, Brady, Skyler. Had a good conversation with Leslie. Met Dany in the lobby beforehand and she was kind enough to sit with me, even though the service was arranged theatre in the round style and I picked a tall table and bar stools right behind the band.

Got a text message from Tyff inviting me over for wine and games at her place in Culver City. Took a little while and a bit of backtracking, but I finally navigated my way down the Blue Line to Staples Center and then along Venice Blvd. A guy on the bus asked to borrow my phone because his was dying and he needed to call someone in Santa Monica. Apparently he was picking up some money but he wasn’t going to get there in time, so they had to figure out a hiding spot where he could retrieve the cash. This is just one of a half dozen fascinating things that happened on the bus that day.

Arrived at Tyff’s to find a game of Taboo in full swing, and that every other guy there was also a spec screenwriter. Lots of fun, cheekiness and consumption of Rice Krispie Treats ensued. I don’t drink wine so I had to make due with the one Coors Light we could excavate from the confusion of the fridge.

The night wound down, people went home. We laid Tyff’s co-worker to rest on the couch to sleep off his one-tequila two-tequila three-tequila floor, then stayed up way too late ourselves talking about God, ourselves, this life inbetween, what you want and what you get. Even dead tired, Tyffany’s and awesome listener. She very kindly let me crash in the living room opposite the hibernating waiter. She kept insisting that the couch pillow wasn’t going to be very comfortable and wouldn’t stop trying to give me another one until I threatened to throw it at her.

The absolute best part about all of this was that I was writing the whole time. If I was on the move I’d just type into my phone, if not I’d write in my notebook. I guess I’m just inspired by being out there and taking everything in.

Woke up at six. Caught the bus back into downtown. Had coffee and a bagel with cream cheese, then took the Red line to the Gold line to the 181 home. Got off the bus at 9:00am.

Best five bucks I ever spent.

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A Poem of Thanks Thursday, Nov 22 2007

I THANK YOU

by E. E. Cummings

i thank you God for most this amazing

day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth

day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any–lifted from the no

of all nothing–human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

—————-
Now playing: U2 – Wild Honey
via FoxyTunes

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Something wonderful Wednesday, Nov 21 2007

So, even though I’ve managed to drive my life into a ditch — no worries though, I know a Guy, and He’s got a BIG tow truck — there’s still way more to be thankful for. Here’s some off the top of my head:

I live when and where I do. There are a whole bunch of ways to be screwed up, but there are a lot of ways to work through it and heal too. And even at my low income level in our society, I live like a king.

I’ve never starved, and never realistically worried that I might.

I have a car. It runs reliable and fast, gets good mileage and plays CD’s.

Health!

I’ve had the pleasure of knowing some extraordinary people in my life and calling them friends, family, and lover.

My darling little girl.

Hope . . . and a calling in my heart, and a faithful and supremely loving God who fashioned it.

Many pleasures, many pains, and the knowledge that it all means something wonderful.

—————-
Now playing: U2 – In A Little While
via FoxyTunes

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Wednesday, Nov 14 2007

So last week I turned in a ten minute play for my playwriting class. At the time I thought I had just dashed something off to make the deadline. I wasn’t really happy with the draft. We didn’t get to it then, so I actually got to hear it read tonight.

Like gourmet cheese, it seems to have aged well.

I actually enjoyed it. It wasn’t perfect. But the majority opinion was much more favorable then I expected. I thought I would be explaining away a bomb, but it turned out to be a subtle piece with an interesting angle.

The coolest part was a fellow student saying he really wanted to see the finished product performed on stage. That’s cool.

Oh yeah, I actually did good on my Genetics test this morning. Thought for sure I was going to bomb that too.

All in all, good day in school.

—————-
Now playing: The Go-Go’s – Our Lips Are Sealed
via FoxyTunes

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Adee’s Coming Tomorrow! Tuesday, Nov 13 2007

I get to see my little girl tomorrow! Its been a whole week since I saw her last.

Tomorrow is going to include some shots at the doctor’s office, but even so, its going to be a good day.

This is her hanging out with her grandma at church on Sunday:

I picked up a couple of shirts for her today. Wound up spending way too much at the store, but it was the first time I ever went and bought some clothes for Adee myself, so I don’t care. I’ll post some shots of her wearing them later.

I love that little girl.

—————-
Now playing: Rufus Wainwright – Want
via FoxyTunes

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Living water rather than salt water. Thursday, Nov 1 2007

 I have this metaphor for giving in to temptation. I call it drinking sea water. People stranded at sea without freshwater sometimes become so thirsty that they drink the seawater around them. The result is that the salt dehydrates their bodies further, and causes delirium. So even though you are drinking something, it actually makes you thirstier, and crazy. And the more you drink the worse it gets.

That’s my experience with temptation. Whenever I’ve lost my temper, lusted after women with my eyes and mind, indulged in procrastination and laziness, or done whatever else I knew I shouldn’t do but wanted to do anyways, that’s always been the result. I’ve just wanted more, not less, of whatever I was sinning with, I lost all peace and connection with God, and I quite literally lose my right mind.

So why do I do it? Because I AM thirsty! My heart and soul want fulfillment, and they don’t have it. So they crave substitutes.

This week has been really cool, because I’ve been blessed to experience several times God providing me with what is Real.  I’ve felt  The Thirst, and I’m learning to listen to my craving and seek His Living Water.

I find it in Beauty

I find it in Worship

I find it in Gratitude

I find it in Acceptance, Forgiveness and Compassion. For myself and for others.

Tuesday I looked out at my porch and realized the tree in my planter was singing to its Creator. And I joined its song. As  I write this, the trees and the rocks and the grass and all the rest of creation- they groan with us, but they also praise.

Who’d have thought that the plants outside and the sky were setting an example for me to follow?
—————-
Now playing: Chris Tomlin – Enough
via FoxyTunes

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Breakfast Marinade Tuesday, Oct 16 2007

So I tried marinating chicken for the first time last week. Got some Orange Muscat Champagne Vinaigrette from Trader Joe’s and soaked some chicken breasts in it. Turned out pretty good.

The thing is, because I’m working four or five nights a week now, and got class until 10:15pm on Tuesday, I’m really not home to cook dinner. I’ve got breakfast and lunch to play around with.

So today I took the leftover chicken and cut it up and put it into an omelet. I wanted to make a burrito, but the few scraps of tortilla I had looked like ancient parchment. So I sauted some onions, mushrooms and red bell peppers, the last of which were too sweet because they had been around too long, through in the chicken and put the whole thing on some eggs.

So, I didn’t clean the pan in between and I let the eggs cook too long before I scrambled them, so the whole omelet thing turned out to be more of a scramble mash.

But man, the chicken marinade turned out to be perfect for breakfast!

—————-
Now playing: Chris Tomlin – Dance in the River
via FoxyTunes

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