Bad Day: A Mood Piece

I will first begin with an apology. I had to break the experiment though I have been watching the episodes. I had some relatively inconvenient health issues arise and they took priority to this experiment. I had to take a couple of days off. I had a heat stroke. I’m feeling better everyday, but still have issues with fatigue, stuttering, coordination, and this constant feeling of electricity going through my body. I’m back on a good sleep schedule and actually plan on making up for the lost blogs this weekend. I know after Saturday night I will have plenty to write about. That is the evening my new short film Begin at the Beginning will premiere at the 2013 Knoxville 24 Hour Film Festival. I hope the audience is ready for some surrealist cinema. 

The episodes, and possibly my heat stroke, have my brain in a jumble of confusion. Lisa is officially dead on the series. This time around her death bothered me more than it did the first time I watched the series. Actually, I think her funeral made her a more sympathetic character to me this time around. Lisa truly was a generous and kind character. She was also crazy and delusional believing she had a connection with a man who never truly loved her. What’s a tragedy is that her death saved Nate from a life of unhappiness because Nate is too big of a chicken shit to admit to himself that a marriage cannot be based on just being nice and kind. Ironically, if I could write this message on a piece of paper, fold the paper into the shape of a boat, and send it out to the universe on the sea of life with a specific destination I would. However, I fear it wouldn’t matter. There are none as blind as those who refuse to see, I suppose. 

This being said it feels like so much is happening so quickly to these characters. Every episode reveals such dynamic change. David has lived through his horrific abduction. Brenda has screwed up yet another relationship. Claire has explored her sexuality and finally had an orgasm. Keith had sex with a 20-something female pop star. Ruth has remarried. Rico is now living with the Fisher’s because he was unfaithful to Vanessa. Then there was Lisa’s death. 

Watching the show lately feels like watching mice run through a maze searching for cheese. It made me wonder about motivation on a grand scale. Why do people effort to achieve? Like the mice scenario: Is it the smell of the cheese that keeps them going? That motivation would fall under Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs as one of every living thing’s primary physiological needs. We need food to survive. Is it need that motivates all of us? 

What baffles me these days is how people and the characters seem to land where they need to be. I watch the universe and in my opinion, the universe is one hell of a writer. Over the last year I have had some fantastic plot lines. And because the universe is such a badass writer it has written me in a lot of conflict based on formulaic patterns my character has developed. Maybe if I look at my life this way it will seem less painful. Maybe it makes me sound crazy, but I’m disassociating myself from my feelings right now. At this moment I feel foolish for believing that people can change. I am annoyed that I forgave someone for lying to me and treating me so poorly only to have this person lie to me and treat me poorly again. I feel manipulated, betrayed, and worthless. I put my entire self on an emotional chopping block and only have a broken heart to show for it. Honestly, that is as deep as I can go into this without becoming incredibly bitter--and I hate bitterness. The people who know me will understand. The rest of you can speculate or create your own stories. I do love to hear a good story.

I’m trying to believe the universe has a plan for me, but right now it’s difficult for me to stay focused and I really just want to crawl into a place of my own where I can create art, cook, read, listen to music, and write until I can handle really being around people again. Right now I’m not feeling social, which is odd because I’m in the midst of a time where I am having to be incredibly social. 

I guess I should be grateful I have the entire summer off. It’s been stressful to not have a steady income and is truly fucking with the sense of independence I have so strived for. I’m trying to have faith, but right now that faith feels broken. I’m reaching deep inside to reserves of strength I know are there...that I do have faith in. I’m also trying to find great pleasure in something everyday. 

Today my friend Gary asked me if I got my birthday present from him. I had not. He told me he sent me a gift card from Amazon via email and after poking around my email I found it in my junk mailbox. This made me so happy I wept at McDonald’s while eating French fries. It wasn’t the amount of money on the card that got to me; it was the thought behind it. It was the idea that this wonderful man with the ability to give the greatest hugs a person could ever receive, who reminds me so much of my father, and who I have spent a grand total of about 20 days around, loves me for being me and took time out of his life to do something so kind for me. 

God, I wish I were such a better friend. I wish I could manage my friendships more effectively. I wish people didn’t genuinely freak me out. More than anything I wish people didn’t make themselves so unlovable in the guise of their own personal pursuits. In the long run none of it fucking matters. We all die. Why can’t we all truly live while we are alive? I wish people weren’t so afraid. I wish I were not so afraid. I’m working on that. I’ll work on it more when my brain feels less scrambled. 

Maybe I’m just too William Foster in the movie Falling Down. I don’t want to believe that is the case, because that makes me the bad guy and nobody wants to be the bad guy. Maybe if I take a nap I’ll feel differently about all of this later. 

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Claire gets an abortion in the 6FU episode Twilight, which was on today’s viewing list. Watching the episode this time around, I realized the shared experience implied between Claire and her mother Ruth through pregnancy . But it also demonstrates the two women’s disconnect with each other. Ruth and Claire have a discussion during this Season Three where Ruth confesses she got pregnant with Claire’s older brother Nate outside of marriage when she was Claire’s age. Claire gets pregnant young and out of wedlock like her mother, but unlike her mother she chooses to end the pregnancy. Ruth and Claire have a complicated relationship, but what mother and daughter don’t have a complicated relationship...good or bad?

My mother came from Northeast Texas to visit me this year on my birthday, which also happened to fall on Mother’s Day. I was incredibly excited, because my mother had only visited me twice since I moved to Knoxville. She visited about 15 years ago and then again about 10 years ago. I had convinced myself that she would never visit me again. It had become a topic I joked about with my friends.

Honestly, I've been a tad jealous of the attention I feel my brother gets from my mother. She has gone to visit him a lot. (I must admit, he has also supplied Mother with a tribe of grandchildren, while I have just this year given her the privilege of being “Nonna” to her sweet little grandpug.) I envy the connection my brother and my mother seem to have. They are so emotionally, intellectually, and even physically alike. Taking us at face value, I look like my mother, but at my core I am my father. My brother, who appears to be my father on the surface, is actually my mother at his core. So they have this core connection with each other. When my father died at 40 before I turned 20, I saw my chance to have that sort of core connection with a parent pass me by.

I’m not whining about the relationship I have with my mother. I don’t want anyone’s pity. It’s not horrible. I just never felt like we always got each other. My mother and my brother have that Gemini/Sagittarius connection. I’m a Taurus. For those who know astrology you will understand the astrological humor in this familial triangle: My father was a Virgo--another Earth sign like myself. That would have been nice to have in my life, especially now that I’m mature enough to appreciate who my father was. To add insult to injury, my stepmother and my stepfather are Gemini as well. I used to joke with my friends that the joy of living with Gemini is that every week, when my mother completely rearranged all the furniture in the house, it was like living in The Matrix. One of the positives of having so many Gemini in my life is that I am one of the few Taureans I know who can handle change. I’m not saying I can handle it well, but I handle it better than most Taurus folk, who dig their bullish hooves in the ground and refuse to budge. 

I was nervous about her visit. I often feel tense when I think about spending time with my mother. Maybe it’s just that I want her to be happy. Maybe it’s because she's always been blond and beautiful, and I feel I have never lived up to half her beauty.  Maybe I secretly need her approval. I have no idea…that’s for my therapist and me to work through. I often think it has to do with this sense I have that I just don’t fit. Honestly, it’s not just that I feel I don’t fit in with my family. I have never felt like I fit anywhere--emotionally or physically. 

To help explain how much I don’t fit in, and what that feels like, I'll share one of my favorite stories about not fitting in. It involves my best friend Mike, who is a principal member of my Knoxville family I have created for myself. I had just become friends with Mike and had declared him my best friend, hoping the idea would become like a meme and go viral. We were hanging out at this incredibly crowded Mexican food restaurant during the 2010 Gatlinburg FIlm Festival. Mike had just ordered a beer and put it on the corner of a table, where I promptly knocked it off with my elbow. I felt so awkward and embarrassed and offered to buy him another beer. Phillip went to the bar to get him another beer for me because he was closer and there were so many people in the place that it was nearly impossible to move. To finish this story I need to explain that Mike is 6 foot 5 inches tall. I looked at Mike, who was stooped over listening to me, and apologized. I told him that one day I just hoped to fit into this world physically and emotionally. As the sentence escaped my lips he stood straight up and said, “I know exactly what you...” Before he could finish his thought he had collided scalp first with a light fixture that was hanging from the ceiling. It is a moment in my life I will never forget. Isn’t it great when you truly identify a kindred spirit?

Mom's visit was lovely. I now feel a stronger connection with my mother. Maybe it’s that I’m not a little girl anymore. Maybe it’s because we were in Knoxville and I had the home field advantage. Or maybe it’s that I have created a family of friends of my own. Whatever it is, I have to admit that I finally feel that my mother and I are good with each other. I could be calm in front of her. I had such good moments with her. I enjoyed her spirit and how she danced without fear of judgement in the middle of Market Square during the Farmers Market while the gentlemen who plays the saxophone blew her a special melody that reminded him of his time in Dallas. 

She can talk to anyone. We share that. We both can talk to just about anyone. And we both have this aura or something that draws people to us who need to tell their stories to someone else. I once had a strange man at a Shoney’s stand next to me at the breakfast buffet and tell me about his prostate cancer. After 35 minutes of his monologuing I hugged him before he joined the others at his table. I sat down next to my old fiance and dear friend today, who asked me if I knew the man. “No,” I said, “I’ve never seen him before in my life.” 

My mother and I may not share the core connection she has with my brother, but I realized during her visit that we do get each other. After all, she is my mother. She has been patient with me in our differences. One of her favorite stories to tell about me revolves around my need to be fiercely independent. My first day of kindergarten my mother walked with me to the steps of the red brick elementary school building. As the rest of the children walked hand-in-hand up the steps with their mothers or fathers, I dug my little bovine heals into the sidewalk. I tilted my head up at my beautiful, blond, 25 year old mother and announced to her that I did not need her to take me to my class. I could get to my class on my own. Honestly, I barely remember this…but I do remember always feeling more mature than I really was and always wanting to prove I didn’t need anyone’s help. 

When she tells the story now, she mentions that it was a difficult moment for her. I’m her oldest child and the first day of school is one of the pivotal “letting go” experiences for a parent. In this moment my mother made a choice that I believe defined me as an individual. She let me climb the long flight of concrete stairs leading up to Lindbergh Elementary School and walk to my class all by myself. She didn’t argue. She didn’t veto my need to be independent. She let me make my own path. And though the only experience I have raising children was being a part-time caregiver for my niece for several years, I believe that was not an easy decision for my young mother to make. But it is one I am grateful to this day that she made. I believe it was the open door to my strength and bravery.

So thank you, Mom, for letting me find my own way. 

My mother and me

Ruth and Claire 

It’s All About Timing

Today’s episodes were ones I’d forgotten. Honestly, repressing them has to do mostly with the character Lisa, whom I find annoying; she’s so delusional.  She reminds me of so many of the Earth mother goddess women in my generation who don’t want to be on the surface, and so tried to go “deeper,” and somehow they just made "deeper" the surface. It was also hard watching today’s episode because I’m exhausted. 

In the third episode today, Timing and Space, Brenda’s father dies. It is one of my favorite episodes because there seems to be so much kindness revealed in many of the characters--especially some of the characters who seem to lack empathy. In this episode Brenda’s mother has her most genuine and loving moment as a mother in the entire series. She says, “You've never felt so much like my children before. Having your father around always took the edge off that sensation, I think. But I look at you both now, and you're both so mine. When you were little children, Bren, you used to start everything you said to us with an ‘And’ or a ‘But’. You'd say, ‘And Mom, Can we go to the store?' or 'But Dad, when we were talking before, you said’. You always started with a conjunction like that, and then Billy, when you started talking, you did the same thing. He learned that from you, Bren.  Your father used to say, living with you two was like listening to the longest sentence in the history of the universe. And now there's no one to hear it but me.” I believe it is one of Margaret's very few appealing moments. Her blatant honesty, sexuality, and unapologetic intelligence often make her unappealing. 

Also in this episode Brenda has a conversation with Nate after her father’s funeral that is still haunting me as I type. The two ex-lovers discuss what they took from their relationship with each other. It haunts me because it is a conversation I had almost down to the letter with my ex-boyfriend about a month ago. 

EXT. CLIFF EDGE - DAY

Brenda and Nate continue to talk.

BRENDA

Watching him die.

NATE

Yeah.

BRENDA

Was like watching somebody get washed out to sea, only they're sitting right there in bed.  A wave comes, takes them a little away.  Another wave comes, takes them a little away.  Every wave is a day.  Little by little, off they-- off they go.  Can I tell you something?  

NATE

Sure.

BRENDA

I don't want to put you in a weird position.

NATE

I'm already in a weird position. I live my whole life in a weird position.

BRENDA

I missed you. Through this.  

NATE

I missed you too. I mean, it's not like I don't know how much being with you changed me.  How much you woke me up as a person. I wouldn't be who I am today if I'd never met you. I certainly wouldn't floss every day, that's for sure.

BRENDA

You've been keeping up with that?

NATE

After every meal.  

Brenda inhales, long sigh.

BRENDA

You changed me too.  

NATE

Yeah, how so?

BRENDA

You're the first person I've lost, where it really cost me something.  That's why I haven't been with anyone since.

NATE

No one?

BRENDA

It's too scary, that I'll go screwing it all up again.

NATE

Yeah, you'll find somebody.

BRENDA

That is so not the answer. You know what I think?

NATE

About what?

BRENDA

I don't know, about life.

NATE

What?

BRENDA

I think it's all about timing. I think timing is everything.

NATE

I think you might be right.

Like Brenda I believe timing is everything. However, I’m not going to write about my ex-boyfriend at this point. That’s just too fucking much for me emotionally right now. Like I said, I’m exhausted. But I am going to write about the device of the ticking clock.

I participated in the 2013 Knoxville 24 Hour Film Festival short film competition this weekend. The goal of the competition is to create a 4 minute film from concept to completion in 24 hours. It must be written, shot, edited, and turned in 24 hours from the announced time. To keep the 30 registered teams honest, a series of elements are required in the submitted films. This year the organizers went out of their way to insure that there was nothing shady with any of the registered teams' films. There was some issue with one of the films from last year and whether or not any of the footage was pre-recorded. Because of that, this year’s elements read like an instruction manual written by Doctor Seuss. 

First rule was that we had to slate every single location we shot with a special graphic supplied by the contest organizers the day of the contest. The second factor was that there had to be several elements included in the films. This year all of the elements had to occur at certain points in the film. Each year there is a required character, line of dialogue, and visual image. This year the character was a bounty hunter who had to appear by a large natural body of water within the first 30 seconds of the film. The line of dialogue “So there I was, minding my own business...” had to happen 30 seconds before the final element, which was the same bounty hunter somehow interacting with fire.

I really disliked needing to use the bounty hunter character. I was fine with the rest of it, but that freaking bounty hunter made me cringe. Immediately I knew that my bounty hunter was NOT going to be male. I hate stereotypes, and I was annoyed that my only concept of a bounty hunter is Dog the Bounty Hunter. That is just not me and never will be. 

I don’t want to reveal too much about my short for the festival, except to say that with about 24 more hours it could have been brilliant. As it is, I like it. It is very personal to me. I think I know how people will respond to it. But, most of all, it is an entire 180 degrees from what I did last year. Last year I turned in a very stagey short comedy about a plus size woman who talks her older homosexual male friend into having a baby with her. The screenplay was one of the three nominees for best story/screenplay. I didn’t win, but considering it was the very first film I ever produced, I was thrilled to be nominated. 

It is baffling to me to think that I have only been making films for a year. Each experience has been more interesting, educational, and rewarding than the last. I went from being nominated to producing a film that won a best supporting actor award, to doing a fake exploitation film trailer that won me an award for best performance, and finally the last film I produced won best cinematography and was one of the five films nominated for best film at the Fifty-four Film Festival. I feel that is a good first year for any filmmaker. But that being said, I did feel some pressure to produce something sensational for this year’s 24 Hour Film Festival. Ten minutes into the competition, I let go of that need. I think part of what makes me appealing to the people who like my work is that I’m not trying to really please anyone. Yeah, I want people to appreciate it for its value, but I’m not going to let go of what is innately me in the process. 

Honestly, I had not planned on doing this festival this year. It has been a long, exhausting year of filmmaking for me. I was ready for a break. But I decided to put my hat in the race when I heard there were only 3 or 4 female-led teams out of the 30 teams, and my experience with this festival is that the films are very... male-centric. (That is the most polite way to put it.) In 2011, the first year I attended the festival, after viewing all the entries I nicknamed it the 2011 Knoxville 24 Hour Kill a Bitch Film Festival. I may be wrong, but I seem to recall all but one of the films featuring the murder of a female character. To be fair, it wasn’t the murder or violence that bothered me. Hell, I love a good violent story. Rather, it was these filmmakers’ need to kill a female character in order to propel the male characters through their stories. Each murder really had nothing to do with the person being murdered. The murder of such a character is just a device to emotionally manipulate/motivate one or more male characters into action.  In my opinion, that’s just weak-ass writing. (But what do I know? I just teach writing for a living.)

This being said, I love this festival. I love its organizers. I appreciate the opportunities it provides for people like myself who are emerging in the film world and need an audience to test our work. And the organizers have, over the last couple of years, made an effort to be more inclusive of female filmmakers. Last year the festival had 7 teams that were led by women. It was a good thing. It gave the festival an injection of feminine perspective. It also encouraged me to begin the group Wifi:Knoxville (Women in the Film Industry: Knoxville). The group now has nearly 300 members. 

This year on June 10 Wifi:Knoxville is co-hosting a panel of female and female-friendly filmmakers to speak during the festival. In my opinion this is incredible progress, and what pushed me into doing the festival this year. And if you live in East Tennessee, and especially if you are a woman interested in making or participating in film, come out June 15 to the Bijou Theatre for the 2013 Knoxville 24 Hour Film Festival and enjoy some short films produced by local talent.  There is a lot of talent in this community and there will be some interesting work on display.