All posts by Analyn Revilla

The perspective from inside… the Director’s couch

After my last post, “The Company”, I had a conversation with Kevin about his experience making the movie.

How did you work out the problem with the fire marshall? You told me the building was on a fire watch, and would have to buy a $700 permit and pay some city worker$65/hour during the filming.

Kevin:   We had to shut down the production indefinitely. Even if I could have gotten the film permit over the phone, the fire marshall would not let us continue shooting without a full-time paid fire official on the set. I couldn’t afford that. What was most frustrating about the whole situation was that the manager of the warehouse had been calling the city for an entire year trying to get them to come in and do what they were required to do – inspect the sprinkler system. So it’s clear the city knew about the problem for an entire year. In lieu of sending in an inspector they just put the building on a fire watch until they could get around to it. In the end, the manager hired someone to come in and fix the problem, which turned out to be replacing one or two sprinkler heads. The fire marshall, who felt bad about what happened, then expedited an official inspection and the building passed. I got the film permit and 3 weeks later we started over. I say started over because I couldn’t use any footage from the day we had to abort. It wouldn’t match. Final cost of shutdown/delay: approximately $2,100 which included the permit and the cancellation fees for the cast and crew.

I know of 3 events that could’ve stopped you from continuing to the finish line:  a) an unscrupulous contractor b) the actor pulled out at the ’11th hours’ c) the fire watch… I know there were other events after these… can you list your most significant challenges (in addition to a negative balance on your bank account 🙂

Kevin:  Regarding a, b, and c, anyone who’s ever produced or directed a film will tell you that what I went though is nothing unusual. Every production has it’s horror stories. And mistakes are made. My hope is to make bigger and better mistakes next time, but to never make the same ones twice. 

As far my most significant challenge, it was wearing too many hats. As director my sole focus should have been on directing. But that is often not the reality for low budget independent film. It certainly wasn’t on this movie. And I think the final product suffered for it. Among the jobs I performed and could have taken credit for are: executive producer, producer, location scout, props, set decoration, casting director, script supervisor, production manager, production assistant, driver, post production supervisor, etc. This was a failure on my part in that I made the same mistake twice. The Company is my third film but I made this mistake on my second one, and I failed to learn from it. At the same time I realize that no one is going to care about The Company as much as I do, period. It’s my dream and I have the most at stake. When there was a job that needed to be done, and no one around to do it, I simply had no other choice…

I like that… “I simply had no other choice…”  Seems like there are situations when this is the “I must”.  In my acting studio at the ‘Imagined Life’, there is a big banner over one of the doors that reads “I must…”  It is a reminder of the philosophy that we are not acting out for appearance sake.  We are doing for the simple motive that I must save my child, I must tell him “I love you”, I must dream big!  You’ve got nothing to lose except missing out on the best ride of your life.

“The Company”

“Ever dream of starting your life over in another town, with another name, in another country? For a fee, an organization called The Company will provide all the documents necessary to create a brand new you in a brand new place.”

Sounds like an offer for a new you for the new year, but it is the slug line for the movie my friend, Kevin McDermott, directed and completed last year.  This blog is dedicated to Kevin, the man who persisted in the face of stumbling events, and an artist with a vision to touch and illuminate the humanity in his audience.

Last year, during the process of realizing the dream that had been gestating, Kevin faced a series of catastrophic events that would probably have dissuaded others from continuing.  Kevin stood up when the situation appeared hopeless, and walked on to finish the movie. 

 I wrote about my Kevin in my blog, “Sail On…” last year (https://lafpi.com/2012/07/off-the-cuff-how-do-you-do-it/).  At that time I called him “Dave” (I wasn’t sure at the time if he felt comfortable to reveal his real name.)  The blog started with, “How do artists face set backs?” 

Some comments from the readers were:

Robin Byrd:  Love this… Love Dave’s resolve to “do it”

Erica Lamkin:  What an inspiration Dave is!  I just know the film will be breathtaking.  I can’t wait to see it!

Last November, the screening for the “The Company” was held at Kimberley Browning of Hollywood Shorts.  I watched Kevin stand among other directors.  He’s a tall man, and he smiles without affectation.  He bowed and humbly he accepted the applause from the audience.

I see Kevin as an artist who quietly whittles at the medium of his art with his heart, body and soul.  He crafted his vision onto the screen with steady resolve and a courageous heart.  He never imposed his hardships except to talk briefly about it, as he seemed to already have a resolution to the problems in his subconscious.  It’s a quality of true character and probably innate in artist to simply see “well into” situations and people, and have the inner confidence to get through it. 

How do artists face set backs?  I know there were times when stayed in the sanctuary of his home to lick the wounds from unexpected events which seemed cruel.  But some of these events turned around to offer a better option than the first choice. 

  1. An unscrupulous contractor who took money from Kevin without the intent of building the set.  Kevin swallowed the loss, and took out a loan to continue the work.  He found another contactor who built a great set for the film noire set in the late 50’s.  The new location was better, and Kevin paid less money for the set.
  2. The lead actor pulled out the night before the first day of shooting.  After a few weeks delay and he found the actor, Al Bandiero, who was better suited to the role of the main character of Dan
  3. At the first day of shooting the movie, a fire marshal shut down the location, because Kevin did not have a fire permit, and also learned that the building was on a “fire watch”.  The cost of the permit would be $700 and he would’ve had to pay $65 per hour to have a Fire Marshall on payroll during the filming. 
  4. After the major hurdles there were the expected technical difficulties:  lights, sounds and editing.  The synergy of the people working to make a good movie overcame the smaller hiccups of production.  With imagination, creativity and resourcefulness the people got the show together.  It was a gathering of artists who were dedicated to their craft – costume/hair/makeup; sounds and special effects, music score, lights and props, editing.  Kevin was a master puppeteer, and he coordinated the people and the tasks with great heart and spirit.

What Kevin showed was the art of engaging and engineering people and resources to work together under very difficult circumstances.  I think this is a unique quality that good leaders need to be able to hold a ship together, and to weather bad storms to sail on to a bright horizon.

 The movie is fantastic.  Catch the trailer by going to this link: http://thecompanyshortfilm.com/trailer.html

 To learn more about the movie, go to this link:  http://thecompanyshortfilm.com/

The Company was also an official entry of at the Hollywood Reel Independent Film Festival.  If you missed that one (Dec. 5th, 2012), the movie was also submitted to the Sundance Film Festival.  I remember our conversation about the process of submitting Sundance.  Serendipitously, he discovered the office was in a building only one block away from his apartment building.  We both thought he would have to Fedex the CD to Utah.   On the last date of submitting the CD, I called him to remind him to get it to the submission office on time.    He had already dropped off the package bright and early by the time I called him.  His belief in his purpose is what made this film happen.  This was his “I must”. 

What’s yours for this year?  For me it’s to finish “Original Sin” (no matter how long it takes… I know I’m inching closer to the finish line.)

Soul Work – The Dream Goes On Forever

Three days into the new year, and I’m slowly transitioning from a place of wet marshes to an open space.  I’ve been having dreams with water.  One in particular was treading water with only my right arm which made me swim in circles in a vat.  I ducked my head below the surface to look for sharks.  What I found was a domestic scene:  a kitchen with tables and chairs, and people occupying the seats.  I felt afraid to look closer so I resurfaced, and found myself in a different room.  I sat with a small party of three women.  One woman, heavy and rotund was overbearing and directing the whole show.  I finally got tired of her ways.  I boldly lifted her buttocks off the ground to reveal her dirty underwear.  I left the house, but to get out I had to navigate my way through an entangled web of fishing lines that blocked the door.  When I got through by pushing aside the lines there was an open field beyond the door.  The weather was cool and wintry with the sun breaking through a mild layer of fog.

I think people like to talk about their dreams, and beyond that to understand the underlying message(s) they contain.  It is probably to spend less than third of our lives in a dreaming state (if we’re lucky enough to get the time to be in REM mode.)  Could dreams give us clues and possibly answers to fulfill our soul’s needs and desires?

In the book “Care of the Soul”, Thomas Moore speaks that “Care of the soul requires ‘work’ in the alchemical sense… Sometimes, soul work is exciting and inspiring, but often it is also challenging, requiring genuine courage.  Rarely easy, work with the soul is usually placed squarely in that place we would rather not visit, in that emotion we don’t want to feel, and in that understanding we would prefer to do without.”

Gee, I think that paragraph in the book describes the feeling of the dreamer – avoidance and running away.  Revealing a life beneath the surface of the water – the kitchen where we gather to store away food and staples, make our meals, clean the dishes and hang around as in a kitchen party because it is the modern figurative hearth –the fire of the soul.  Maybe, until I see what’s happening in the kitchen then I’ll continue go in circles around the heart of the matter, and never get it.  Now I can see why I’ve been obsessed with matters of the soul. 

 “A dream may survive a lifetime of neglect or an onslaught of interpretations and remain an icon and a fertile enigma for years of reflection.  The point in working with a dream is never to translate it into a final meaning, but always to give it honor and respect, drawing from it as much meaningfulness and imaginative meditation, not keep it in fixed and tired habits.”

“Care of the Soul” (chapter ‘Dreams:  A Royal Road to Soul)

 Dreams are images that encapsulate powerful doses of chemicals that motivate thoughts and feelings.  A certain color, smell or sound evokes memories.  I like it that I can still invoke a feeling of my mother’s closeness by the smell of her favourite perfume mingled with her natural oils.  Overtime, my ability to recreate that fragrance from my imagination fades.  Interestingly, I got her favourite scent as a Christmas gift for her this year.  I need to sneak a bit of that “1000” onto a handkerchief and ask her to tuck it into her bra.  This is how she use to stash away her hanky (or maybe her way of beefing up her bosoms.)

 While my mother visits for the holidays, I’ve been struggling with past emotions that I’ve hung onto so closely that my knuckles are white and my hand feels numb.  I recognize my need to let go.  New year is a time of renewal.  I wonder if it will ever be right between her and me, and it may never be right but only better and easier.  I like this imagery from an Indian myth about Krishna:

 His foster mother is told that her little boy is outside eating mud.  She goes out to clean the mud out of his mouth, and when he opens his mouth, he reveals to her all the heavens and hells and gods and demons in himself.  She is of course, stunned by this display, and her relationship to him would be pretty well damaged from then on if she remembered it, so he very kindly erases it from her memory.

– “A Joseph Campbell Companion:  Reflections on the Art of Living”

 There is another part to that story, but I’m only using what is needed here for now.  It is the kindness to erase the memory.  As I move further out into another year, I need to remember to be kinder, and erase traces of the past that do not add to happiness and fulfillment.

(I’ve decided to forgo the sequel of Soul Work Part 1, 2 and so on, because soul work will be ongoing till my last breath.  So I borrowed the title from a song by Todd Rundgren, “A Dream Goes On Forever”.)

Soul Work – Part 1

Soul work is house work.  These words came to me at 4:30 this morning while scrubbing the kitchen floor with vinegar-water, and the dog soaked in the warm bath to wash away the stench of urine.  This is soul work, I thought.  I love her, but man… this is tough.  I miss the days when I can bounce out of bed and grab the leash while Chloe eagerly waited for me at the door, running to and fro in her excitement to play outside in the crisp cold morning and explore the canyon.  Now she’s fifteen years old.

Some mornings, like today, I’m happily relieved that she is aroused by the sound of my voice calling her name, “Chloe?”  It’s the last day of 2012, and I wonder if she’ll be with me next year.  I hate myself for asking this question.  To ask it, seems like a betrayal.  I swish the water around her back legs and kiss her nose.  She looks at me, perhaps wondering if she’s being a burden.  Or is it me projecting my thoughts and feelings on her?  I love you I tell her and kiss her again.  You’ve been a wonderful friend.  I don’t mind.

I’m thankful that I have clean water to do this work.  The water is the medium between the spirit and the soul.  There’s a line in the movie “The Company” that goes like this,  “My mother said that rain is the tears of God cleansing away the sins of the world.”  I feel guilty on the days (and some of the days are strung along like paper lamps that I long to come home to a clean home.  Then I remind myself to be patient and loving, because the dog can’t help her condition.  She’s incontinent.  I don’t know when the right time will come to let her go.  I’ve decided that she’ll decide and let me know.

This phase of my relationship with an old friend has been soul work.  What I mean by soul work is getting to the grit and dirt of my frustration, my sadness, my fatigue and everything else that I would label as unkind and ugly about my attitude to the situation.  I cannot shun the work, because the only way through it is to work through it.  Soul work is akin to housework.  Eventually, I or someone I pay to do it, will need to apply the elbow grease to clean up the mess.  But it is the act of applying myself to the work that will absolve me of my “guilt” for my unworthy feelings.

This past year has been my hunger year for anything “soul” related.  I hunted down the thrift store for psychology and self-help books on the soul.  I read “Soul Stories” by Gary Zukov, and also his other book, “Seat of the Soul”.  These were good.  I found a treasure in Thomas Moore’s “Care of The Soul:  A guide for cultivating depth and sacredness in everyday life.”  Thomas Moore uses mythology and archetypes to describe the reflections of the soul like the lights of a crystal spinning on an axis.  In his book, I found the reasoning to accept my feelings.

There are many events that I question, “Why?”.  Some things just do not make sense despite my best intentions.  The challenge is how I choose to think and react to the circumstances.  In the beginning I didn’t understand the change happening to the dog a couple of years ago.  Then, slowly I began to open my eyes that the happy, limber puppy was suddenly an old dog.  She was suddenly a dog with arthritis and a heart that still bore the spirit of a loyal and trusting friend.

My experience with Chloe is one of other soul stories I am sharing with you.  It has been a very challenging couple of years.  I know a few in our own circle that have had their share of soulful experiences.  What keeps us going is that spirit of aspiring to be a better person.  It is a matter of awareness and choice.  I don’t mean to seem dogmatic like I’ve got it figured out, because I feel I’m so far away from that.

But I really want to forgive myself for feeling unkind sometimes.  The body is a perfect machine.  The organs work synchronously to sustain life.  When we cut our finger the systems works as a team and sends chemicals to the injury so that the blood will clot, and the immune system is activated to kill germs and bacteria.The body perfectly designed to expire after some wear and tear, or when the timing was just right for the body to be at rest.

Our society is obsessed with prolonging life and capturing timeless beauty.  I begin to open my eyes to the perfect-imperfect design of life and death.

After I drain the bath water and hoist Chloe over the lip of the tub, I tease her, “How did you get so big?!  How did you do it?”  I coo the words to her in a tone of loving humor.  At 5 o’clock I take a reprieve from the task.  I know that in a few hours I will be doing the  same thing over again.

Happiness – A Conscious Choice

I found refuge in the handicap stall in the ladies’ restroom.  I chuckled  to myself as I crouched with my journal and pen to write about something.  “Something”  is trying to find my feelings that I had lost touch with, because I’ve been so busy keeping up with maintaining a life.

In the last few blogs during my round of blogging I hinted at being in “survival mode”.  Well I got deeper into it.  I’ve been slogging through hell.  (“When you’re going through hell, keep going.” – Winston Churchill.)

Then an awakening happened, and it was that I had become this mentality of being a victim of circumstance.  The awareness of this made me immediately stop on my tracks.  I stopped to consider what’s really important, then ask ‘Where am I going?’

Around this time, a friend from Vancouver, texted me.  He said he wanted to summit Golden Ears, and I was the only one he knew who was willing to do it.  That is true.  I’m crazy enough to do a ten to twelve hour hike into the woods without much training.  I had been living a semi-sedentary life of a desk job and imbibing on French cheese, baguette and wine, and minimal exercise.  I was ready.  I went for it and proceeded to book my flight, request for the time off, and asked a good man to take care of my dog.

I land in Richmond, home to Vancouver’s International Airport.  It was renovated prior to the 2010 Winter Olympics and its look and feel is about nature.  Passengers deplane and walk through a simulated rain forest (recording of streaming waters, bird calls, mild humidity from fake and real plants, wooden seagulls and stuffed animals) en route to the Immigration queue.  All this is familiar to me as I’ve gone home to Vancouver many times to renew my US visa since I decided to move to LA.  I miss home and yet I choose to live in LA.  It’s confusing.

It’s probably for this reason why I’ve allowed myself to seep into the mentality of being a victim.  I’m uncertain of what I want and allowed life to happen rather than making life happen.  It makes sense to me as I let the words spill onto this page without masking my feelings.

At the Budget rental office I’m rewarded with the luck of upgrading my rental car from an economy car to a convertible Mini Cooper for a reasonable cost.  I go for it.  I cruise into the jewel of the Pacific Northwest with the top down.  The cool wind and bright fall colors suffuse my senses…. Ahhhhh… I’m home.  My first stop is the Bikram Yoga studio on
Commercial Drive (the neighborhood I use to remember as artsy and bohemian that’s woven with modern urban amenities:  there’s a Starbucks and Waves tucked between the multitude of family owned stores and Italian and Portuguese cafes.  The yoga studio is across from the old standby “Joe’s Café” (the owner was a former bullfighter in Portugal, and he still serves the cappuccinos with a warm greeting and smile.)

After a good sweat, I’m ready to be a tourist in my hometown.  So much has changed, and yet there are still the familiar standbys like the Purdy’s Chocolate Factory.  That was my next stop.  Already, I’m shopping for goodies to take back to LA and also to give away to friends and family in Vancouver.  It’s the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend after all, and I was
feeling generous.  I spend the next two days between visiting friends and family and another yoga session.  The yoga was the only prep I had done for the hike.  At least, in my mind, I can sweat out the toxins and stretch my body.

The hike to Golden Ears was on Thanksgiving Day (the 1st Monday of October). It took almost 12 hours, and my friend and I got to his truck at 7:30 pm when the sky was already lit with stars.  We traversed through various terrains including wooded forests, alpine meadows and dry creek beds.  12 hours in the womb of nature is what I needed to recharge my battery and ground me to what’s important to me – to simply be happy.  A walk in the woods makes me very happy.  Spending time with an old friend makes me happy.  Watching 2 kids play street hockey in an empty recess ground makes me happy.  Chocolate makes me happy.  Multi-hued leaves on the trees and on the ground makes me happy.  Geese crossing the street makes me happy.

When the resistance is strongest; when I’m feeling up against the wall day in and day out, I really have to make the effort to consciously choose to be happy.  I think of the simplest joys I can make for myself and realize that that it does not take much to make me happy.

I land back in LAX the next evening.  I am waiting at the curbside for my boyfriend.  The whizzing and weaving airport traffic with the LA dry and cool evening weather makes the serenity of the last three days appear as an illusion.  A woman who was on the same flight waits for her ride too.  She turns to me and says, ‘Welcome to LA.’  I nod knowingly and we have a brief conversation about the contrasts of living in LA and Vancouver.  We agreed that we are here for a reason, though it’s not “home”.  Our rides arrive at the same time.  My boyfriend greets me so warmly my heart melts.  I’m home too.  It’s not a cliché.  Home is where the heart is.

Joyful Summit on Golden Ears

Keeping the Faith

I’m trying to keep the faith.  Despite my “choose happiness” pep-rally blog yesterday, well sometimes it’s just hard.  If I have to recite a mantra to convince myself to BELIEVE, BELIEVE, BELIEVE that there will be light at the end of the tunnel then that’s what I have to do.  I look for graces everywhere; signs I’m on the right path and not insane to write a play.  I’ve never done this before.  I’ve only known bits and bytes, and talking about “processes”, “methodologies” and “testing” (in every possible flavor.)

I think this is probably the gift of suffering, though I’m not really suffering.  It’s a metamorphosis, and I’m transitioning to a different me.  I’ve been split in my mentality between the professional IT dudette.  I’ve got to commit to the dream now.

“The darkest hour of the night is just before dawn.” – Thomas Fuller

As part of keeping the faith I booked all my hard earned vacation days to do some writing.  It’s part of my commitment to finish the play.  I’m fearful that nothing will come out, or nothing worthwhile.  (See there’s the critic already raising its ugly head… “You can’t do it.  You don’t know how.”)  People at work ask, “Are you doing anything on your vacation?”, “Are you going anywhere?”, “What are you going to do?”  I answer simply with “I have something I have to finish and I’ve got to take time to do it.”

 I haven’t been writing rigorously, meaning, I don’t sit down daily and write the play.  I’ve just been doing a lot of marinating and let insights bubble up, and look for common themes that leads me to the underlying theme of the story.  Maybe marinating is okay, and part of the process.  But I’m compelled to think that I need to strike a balance between “just marinating” and actually putting down tracks. 

 I had one of the situations put up for a reading last week, and that fired me up to go further.  One step at a time, one day at a time… maybe I should look up the 12 step program and see if there’s anything there of use to me.  What is my addiction? Negative thoughts?  I took this list from aa.org website and replaced alcohol with Negative Thoughts

 THE TWELVE STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

1. We admitted we were powerless over negative thoughts—that our lives had become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to negative thinkers, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

Sure.  There are some things on this list I can use to empower me for finishing the play, and I’ll start with #11.  I believe this idea of writing a play is not random, and that I’m being led to this path, and there are people and circumstances opening up to me that will help me.  But I need to be open to these opportunities.  So go write!

 Thank you.

Off the Cuff – How Do You Do It?

It’s one of those weeks when everything just built up to a point of “giving a way”.  I say “giving a way”, because I liken it to running a race, and I’m always trying to stay ahead of or in synch with something – which is usually TIME.  In a 24 hour period when we try to fit in the “work to live”, “live to work”, “working out” and “no work” I decided something’s gotta give.  That something is probably my idea of how my life should be assembled.  I have this image of a pie chart and it’s divided into my ideal of how to allocate my time, and then I compare it to the reality, the other pie chart that’s chewed out at the edges, unevenly browned and probably undercooked inside.

Time out.  I reached my “giving a way” point subconsciously, I think, around 3 weeks ago.  There was a death of someone who was very close to me, and someone who was still quite young.  He passed away with cancer at 51.  I was planning a trip to the memorial service in Canada, but some constraints prevented my good intentions.  It would’ve been a time of gathering with people I have not seen in so long (too long), and to remember the good times and how much we need to create more of them with every moment.

So I hung back in Los Angeles and took care of my dog.  My German Shepherd is aging gracefully at 14.5 years old, though she and I are struggling with her incontinence… (Let me tell you that I do her laundry 6 times as much as I do mine.)  I was really bummed out not going and then I was buried in work.  My manager quit, my work place is in a state of flux, my application for a perm visa is therefore in an unsteady state and I developed sciatica.  Me?  Not me?!  I’m the one who keeps saying I’m going to be hiking well into my 80’s. 

Wow.  This is really happening.  I felt overwhelmed and my pie chart became one whole “No fun” activity.  But something turned around somehow.  I believed I was not going to quit.  I just didn’t know how to do it.  I didn’t want to continue spinning my wheels in the same muddy puddle.  By grace I decided to tackle one thing that I can control which was my health.  It wasn’t just a matter of dealing with the sciatica, but before I can do that, I had to work on my mentality.  I needed to shift my attention from ‘poor, poor me.’

I was hunting around the internet for inspirational stories and found this on The Wellness Clinic, “Top Five Regrets before Dying By Bronnie Ware.  It was an article written on February 3rd, 2011.  Bronnie worked in palliative care for many years and gathered a list of the regrets and common themes that surfaced from people at the gates to the other side.  Here is the link to the article:  http://en-gb.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=144033175657282.

The list:

  1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me
  2. I wish I didn’t work so hard
  3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings
  4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends
  5. I wish I had let myself be happier

That last one summed it all up for me.  Yes, there’ll be very rough times, and I can choose to get down and wallow, and even let it defeat me (for awhile.)  Or I can choose to see the bigger picture and have a deeper insight to what’s really going on.  What value can I take from this experience?  For one thing, always having the courage to go on.  Another thing is getting to know myself in the face of adversity.  And then just choose to be happy and choose to be grateful that I can experience life. 

After all these years I’m starting to get it, and that is life is not an idea.  It is what I’m actively thinking and doing, and what unfolds in the next moment is a result of what I was thinking and doing.  Those things I have control of.  So having boosted my mentality I decided to tackle how to heal my sciatica.  I came upon a book by Letha hadady,  D. Ac., called “Asian Health Secrets”.  The book is a holistic approach to healing.  To my surprise there were presciptions specific to sciatica.  I dug into the book, and my world opened up to a new attitude about herbs and Traditional Chinese Medicine.  I started the anti-phlegm cleanse which improved my condition on all planes:  mental, physical and emotional.  So far so good.

My heightened awareness from the cleanse has allowed me to slow down my breathing, rather than not breathing at all.  I’m taking the time to appreciate what I’ve got.  It’s such a good feeling.  It was a matter of choice to remind myself what really matters to me.  I catch myself still mindful of time, but with a perspective that time is relative.  (By the way, I’ve started reading Gary Zukav’s “The Dancing Wu Li Masters” which is described as “a mysticists interpretation of quantum physics”.)  It fell into my radar just after I was pondering about Einsteins Theory of Relativity.  I believe my thought created this possibility of the book coming to me.

Bronne concludes his article with this: 

Life is a choice.  It is YOUR ife.  Choose consciously, choose wisely, and choose honestly.  Choose happiness.

This is my favourite Goethe quote:

Choose well.  Your choice is brief and yet endless.

So I’ve made a commitment to a director to finish my rewrite of “Original Sin”.  I’m not going to say what date, but I did make a choice to put the play into others’ hands now.  I’m sharing the gift.  I somewhat left myself without a choice but to do it.

Thank you.

 

 

 

The Art of Story Telling with Integrity – a la Bill Hicks

I can’t get enough of Bill Hicks.  I saw a documentary about him in 2010 at least 10 times.  When you see a movie for that many times the sentences from the situations just fall out of your mouth like braised meat falling off the bone – tender, juicy and succulent.  The content is so rich from that documentary.  It’s called “American:  The Bill Hicks Story”.

I discovered Bill Hicks from a musician.  The Tool album “Aenima” was a tribute to Bill Hicks.  There was mutual admiration between the band and the comedian.  The band also mentions the comedian/satirist as the inspiration for another album, “Undertow”.    I admire Hicks’ integrity and genius.  He spoke it as he saw it, and he didn’t just speak off the cuff without giving it thought.  There’s deep insight to what he said.  He was devoted to raising the evolution of humankind.  Yes, he had controversial ideas, opinions and he spoke them. 

That flag burning thing, god did that bring up some retarded emotions… The flag! The flag! They said we can burn the flag!!! they didn’t say that, they said if a guy burns a flag he probably doesn’t have to go to jail… For a fucking year! People going… “Hey buddy, let me tell you something… My daddy died for that flag!” Really? I bought mine, you know they sell them in K-mart, three bucks. “He died in the Korean war for that flag.” Well want a coincidence! Mine was made in Korea! He didn’t die for a fucking flag, it’s just a piece of cloth, he died for what the flag represents and that the freedom To Burn The Fucking Flag!

– Bill Hicks

For me as an artist, I look to Bill as an inspiration for honest story telling – telling it from the gut, and not being concerned about others’ opinions, especially the critic in me.  When I write like that, I find it rings truer to other people who sees my work.  Whenever I let the critic run amok I don’t write at all.  Best to gag that critic and leave him out of the creativity realm.  The only use I have for the critic is when another critic tears into a piece of my creation.  Maybe that’s the only purpose for the critic.

In February 2009, David Letterman apologized to Mary Hicks (Bill’s mother) for censoring a taped performance by Bill Hicks that was scheduled to air in the autumn of  1993.  It would’ve been his last appearance (his 12th) on the Late Night Show.  In his apology to Mary Hicks, Letterman said, “What was the matter with me?… It says more about me as guy than it says about Bill, because there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.”   I agree with that statement.  When I am critical of somebody else’s opinion or behavior then it’s a sign of a shadow in my own personality that is being reflected back upon me.  The other person’s words and actions is reflecting back to me what I don’t like about me.

A few days ago I was running one of his skits in my head.  I had just finished reading “Soul Stories” by Gary Zukav, and one of the messages from the book is we are all one.  Bill Hicks closes his shows with the same message.  He asks why the media never portrays a positive drug story.  In his fantasy he describes what could be a positive story:

“Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves.   Here’s Tom with the Weather.”  – Bill Hicks

I needed another dose of Bill, so I replayed one his recordings over the weekend.  (If you’re curious to hear any of his work, I’d recommend “Sane Man”, “Rant E-minor”, or “Arizona Bay”.)   I wondered if there was anyone these days that can come close to being in the same league as Bill Hicks.  So I hopped on the internet to do a search found this new flash.  Actor Cameron Crowe will be directing a biopic on Bill Hicks.  The actor was originally going to play the part, but the casting for the role has been opened.  Production of the movie is scheduled for next year.  It’s hard to imagine who can touch the intelligence, compassion and talent of Bill Hicks, but I hope that whoever communes with Bill’s words can aspire to the consciousness he inspired among his fans.

Bill died of pancreatic cancer in February 1994.  He was 32 years old.

Power

 A few observations about the nature of power…

1st Observation

 This is story depicted in Spike and Mike Sick and Twisted Festival of Animation inVancouver many moons ago.  Picture an ordinary plane floating in space.  It has four corners and sits suspended in ether.  From the bottom of the plane, at  each corner, pops up four faceless and genderless figures.   They stand at each corner balancing the plane.  One person steps forward disturbing the balance and the plane tips slightly.  The other three take one step forward, towards the middle, and the equilibrium is restored.  The initiator experiences a sense of power, so he tries something else.  He moves sideways to his right, and the other  3 follows suit, sidestepping the same amount of distance in the same direction.  It is a game of “Simon Says”.  If the other three do exactly as the first man, then the balance of the plane is maintained.  The game continues a little longer with the initiator toying with his companions.  It is a dance without unison.  The initiator manipulates the situation; choreographing the whole show.  His next bold move is to shove one of the men off the plane, leaving the other two to help balance of the plane which proves a more difficult task.  The initiator now plans to to separate his remaining two.  Though faceless, the other two communicates with the turn of their heads their fear.  “This person wants to get rid of us.”  They turn from each other to look at their fiendish companion.  The three figures form an equilateral triangle on the plane.  Each stands in a wide stance to maximize the surface area that they can balance.  The initiator inches towards one man and the other two move prevent tipping the plane.  The initiator gets bold and runs towards one man and pushes him off the edge.  Only two remaining now, like a see-saw.  Finalyy, the Initator jumps up, and the moment he’s in the air the plane tips sidesways and the other man falls off the edge.  Helands in the middle of the plane, balanced in one point and stands alone.  Seemingly satisfied he puts his fists in the air in a “V”.  But now he is stuck.  He cannot move freely along the plane, because he’s the only weight left to maintain the balance of the plane.  He stands alone.

2nd Observation

 “The tendency of power to drive intelligence underground;

The tendency of power to become a theology, admitting no other gods before it;

The tendency of power to distort and damage the traditions and institutions it was designed to protect;

The tendency of power to create a language of its own, making other forms of communication incoherent and irrelevant;

The tendency of power to spawn imitators, leading to volatile competitions;

The tendency of power to set the stage for its own use.”

 Source:  “The Pathology of Power” by Norman Cousins.

 3rd Observation

“John Leonard, while editor of the New York Times Book Review”, contended that statistics are an abstraction which explain why “our ethical systems haven’t caught up with the social fact of the way we live now…”  It compares the jailing of a father who beats his son versus the fining, a minor reprimand, of a company that distributes spoiled milk to thousands of children and is therefore responsible for killing – according to statistical analysis – several of those children…” 

 “If accountability is abstract, a random sample, a scatter curve, it means very little to us, because we are first and foremost individuals, not citizens.  To quantify us is to enslave us to likelihoods, probabilities…  We haven’t grown up at all from “I” to “we”, and our childhood is hazardous to all of us.” – John Leonard

 An abstraction can be doublethink, George Orwell’s word for “the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one’s mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them… The process has to be conscious, or it would not be carried out with sufficient precision, but it also has to be unconscious, or it would ring with it a feeling of falsity and hence of guilt.”  The unforgettable example in Orwell’s great novel1984, inelegant lettering on the glittering white concrete face of the Ministry of Truth, were:

 WAR IS PEACE

FREEDOM IS SLAVERY

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

Source:  “Power Inc.” by Morton Mintz & Jerry S. Cohen

 4th Observation

The psychology of Evil was examined by a psychiatrist in the book “The People of the Lie – The Hope for Healing Human Evil”.  The author, Dr. Scott Peck used his years of experience as a psychiatrist as a basis of his study.  He documents cases which exemplifies human evil and he tries to define evil. 

 “Pride goeth before the fall,” it is said, and of course laymen simply call pride what we have labeled with the fancy psychiatric term of “malignant narcissism.”  Being at the very root of evil, it no accident that Church authorities have generally considered pride first among the sins.”  It is not the pride that comes with doing a job well done and a healthy build-up of a sense of worth.  He describes the type of pride that is arrogant, and rejects “and even attack the judgment implied by the day-to-day evidence of their own inadequacy.” 

The author cannot explain why an excessive self-absorption afflicts one individual but not another, but surmises that it is a learned pattern.   

“a leading theory of the genesis of pathological narcissism is that it is a defensive phenomenon.  Since almost all children demonstrate a formidable array of narcissistic characteristics, it is assumed that narcissism is something we generally “grow out of” in the course of normal development, though a stable child hood, under the care of loving and understanding parents.  If the parents are cruel and unloving, however, or the childhood otherwise traumatic, it is believed that the infantile narcissism will be preserved as a kind of psychological fortress to protect the child against the vicissitudes of its intolerable life.  This theory might well apply to  the genesis of human evil.”

The book weaves in many layers of stories and analysis of the cause and effect of savage, brutal acts of evil practiced by individuals and groups of people, including governments and nations.

Fifth Observation (via the book:  “People of the Lie”)

An excerpt from Erich Fromm’s book, “The Heart of Man:  Its Genius for Good and Evil”:

Our capacity to choose changes constantly with our practice of life.  The longer we continue to make the wrong decisions, the more our hearts hardens; the more often we make the right decision, the more our heart softens – or better perhaps, comes alive… Each step in life which increases my self-confidence, my integrity, my courage, my conviction also increases my capacity to choose the desirable alternative, until eventually it becomes more difficult for me to choose the undesirable rather than the desirable action.”  Conversely, a person who chooses acts that brings a false sense of self-worth by excessive self-importance will likely loses the perspective of other choices and possibilities that bring about harmony in community.

 I blogged on this topic earlier this week, but I took it down because it was too heavy for me to carry it with good effect.  And I still am not doing it justice.  What I can bring from my original post of the blog is this:  Our true power is in our ability for empathy, and we have the free will to choose what we focus our attention on in our thoughts and actions.  Certainly random thoughts and the byproduct emotions come and go, but it a choice of what we focus our attention to.

The Counter Argument

I’m on my way to the gym for a swim inHollywood.  I hear drums and a horn and I follow the noise.  An ancient ritual of music and dancing has unfolded on the playground of the school affiliated with Blessed Sacrament Catholic church.  Two teens beat on drums, a man blows into a conch, and I’m reminded of Tibetan refugee  monks in Nepal blasting into conches to banish evil spirits, avert natural disasters and scare away poisonous creatures.  Today, the ritual I was is complete with dancers shaking tambourines and clacking shells decorating their ankles.  Incense burns in goblets.  It is a celebration and an offering to invoke ancient mythical gods of the Mayan or Aztec civilization.

Ancient Ritual Performed at Blessed Sacrament - May 20th, 2012

 The participants express beliefs, hopes and dreams in an ancient art form; it was the theater of an ancient civilization.  I stand in awe.  Faces expressing deep joy and freedom without artistry.   My thoughts tumble and ramble:  primitive form is art; sophistry is inauthentic.  I am taken back to another place and time.

“Who’s organizing this event?” booms a voice from behind.  I half-turn to see a curiousity mixed with annoyance expression on a man.  I say, “The church or the school probably.”   He turns sideways and looks to an apartment, “Well nobody can sleep in that apartment with all that noise.”  It is 10:30 in the morning, and this is Hollywood.  “What are they doing?” he asks.  I turn back to the dance.  “Performing an ancient ritual.  Isn’t it great, right here, right now inLos Angeles.”  I affirm the gift of this display.

“Well, isn’t it a strange?” he throws at me.  “It is a pagan practice and this is a Catholic church.”  I am confused as to where he is coming from with the “zig” of the people who can’t sleep in that apartment over there (including him probably.)  The “zag” is the juxtaposition of the pagan practice within a Christian property.  Well, I think, Christianity is also based on many pagan practices (check out Zeitgeist and some back issues of the marvelous series “Horizon”.) 

“Yes, but it’s their ancestry and I think it’s great they’re expressing it,” I add.  He counters back in his Slavic accent “Well this isAmerica,” and stalks off.  As he walks away, a gaggle of Harley bikers in leather turn up the throttle like geese flying by and trumpeting their passing presence.  “What next?” he cries with arms thrown up in the air. 

The encounter awakens me back to present time and place.  I cross the parking lot to the gym, in thought.  What was that?  Some people just like to argue it seems.  He didn’t have to convince me of anything, except of what was obvious; he was annoyed that he couldn’t sleep.  It might’ve been a leaking faucet or the buzzing of a fly, and that would’ve roused him into arguing his point.  Instead he tried to reason with me that this practice in a Christian property in theUnited Statesdoes not compute.  Perhaps it is worthy of calling in “the authority” to break up the gathering, he might’ve thought.  Now I wish I had said something like, “Dude, you chose to live in Hollywood.”  This is not the burbs where everything is predictable:  the same plaza with the collection of outlet stores and franchises galore that you would find in Rancho Cucamonga as you would in OrangeCounty.  Even more poignant is this is a country where people can express diversity and they’re practicing their right to do so. 

He did leave me thinking about the counter argument to the premise of my play.  I am immersed deeply in exploiting my theme with positive arguments, that I lose sight of the other side of the equation which is the other half that makes the story whole.  Let me explore, I thought to myself as I dive into the cool water of the swimming pool.  What’s driving my antagonist?  What perils can he throw in the path of my heroine?  What will make the stakes higher and heighten the drama?