I wrote the first Scene of a screenplay today, the first time in my adult life beyond college that I've ever really sat down to compose something in writing with more of a longterm vision than just the immediate..
And I think it came together quite nicely.
So much so, that it gave me an idea:
What if I blogged the script, scene-by-scene (think Dickens) on here for you to read and respond to?
It would go like this: weekly (or whatever time frame), I would post a new scene from the script to be read and responded to, sort of episodically but all one cohesive story. You read it, respond to it with a touch of honest feedback (criticism is invaluable!) and we go from there. Maybe the next week is a new scene, maybe it's a totally revamped version of the already written one... it's anybody's game!
What do you think? You ethereal-collective-worldwide-consciousness-occasionally-responding-to-my-dilemmas thing, you. Are you in on reading a suspensefully epic story created before your very eyes that will build to a blogged finale/climactic event shaped by a combination of your feedback and my writing as if the gods themselves we're wielding magma?!? YES?!?!??
OR I could just write a script and post it. I can go either way.
That's what she said.
Migs
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
spinning away, again
Valentines.
I've been pretty solo for the last while and while driving home last night at 3am with my elbow out the window whitelit by Orion's constancy hearing the same Beach soundtrack song playing from my car speakers with the same empty road ahead and behind me feeling that same tingle of possiblity and curiousity for the lusty foreign.. I found myself wondering whether anything was ever going to:
1 - change
2 - be in need of change.
3 - include another person in the longterm.
We make all these efforts to shake up our surroundings, like the pulp had settled and we need to get those healthy fibrous vitamins floating through our OJ again.. but I try not to drink the stuff at all - instead I find whole oranges growing on trees and pick em, tear through their citrusy flesh like a lustrous caveman and eat right from the source of the nutrients.. and it all works well and fine until you see again that no matter how hearty, lusty, messy, fresh and longevitous you're life has become, you're still doin it solo. You're the only one browsing sidestreets and trekking mountain paths in search for more oranges.
Sure, people talk. "HEY! I do!" Sure. But here I am at 3am looking at the aching stars licking my skin with frost and all I can remember is having the exact same feelings at 18 listening to The Beach soundtrack driving home from work. Nothing changes.
HOLD ON!
This isn't to say there's no motivation. It's like a math problem - if, then. If there are oranges, go seek them. It doesn't mean the fruit is any different, but the journey changes every day. I don't want to eat anything but fresh, raw oranges.. but we all know you can't pick fruit from only the same tree every day less it grow barren quick... no you have to be a nomad with your feats. Hop from day to day with new ways to satisfy that same undying urge. This is the timeless pursuit that we all face, and at 3am under Orion's saggy waistline it doesn't seem to need to include another person. No change, nor really any need of change. The search for fruit is solo. You only need to feed yourself. You don't need to feed anybody, you choose to.
Semirelated Thought: As a rich man and a homeless man have both the same freedoms, so do our loves intertwine like two dimensions a universe apart but layered in exactly the same place. The ultimate full circle.
All of this this could get difficult because I haven't had any children yet. This whole subject is subject to potential contradiction later.
Had enough? Neither have I. But our imaginations are cornucopial fruitbearing steamengines. Embrace your everstable self, and risk it all again and again. Because 10 years down the line you'll likely be where I'm finding too - driving down an empty highway staring at Orion's icy belt, making wishes, hearing the same ageold tunes, welcoming adventure, warmed by the present and thankful for your one cold elbow kissing the dark, reminding you of "home".
Voila.
Migs
I've been pretty solo for the last while and while driving home last night at 3am with my elbow out the window whitelit by Orion's constancy hearing the same Beach soundtrack song playing from my car speakers with the same empty road ahead and behind me feeling that same tingle of possiblity and curiousity for the lusty foreign.. I found myself wondering whether anything was ever going to:
1 - change
2 - be in need of change.
3 - include another person in the longterm.
We make all these efforts to shake up our surroundings, like the pulp had settled and we need to get those healthy fibrous vitamins floating through our OJ again.. but I try not to drink the stuff at all - instead I find whole oranges growing on trees and pick em, tear through their citrusy flesh like a lustrous caveman and eat right from the source of the nutrients.. and it all works well and fine until you see again that no matter how hearty, lusty, messy, fresh and longevitous you're life has become, you're still doin it solo. You're the only one browsing sidestreets and trekking mountain paths in search for more oranges.
Sure, people talk. "HEY! I do!" Sure. But here I am at 3am looking at the aching stars licking my skin with frost and all I can remember is having the exact same feelings at 18 listening to The Beach soundtrack driving home from work. Nothing changes.
HOLD ON!
This isn't to say there's no motivation. It's like a math problem - if, then. If there are oranges, go seek them. It doesn't mean the fruit is any different, but the journey changes every day. I don't want to eat anything but fresh, raw oranges.. but we all know you can't pick fruit from only the same tree every day less it grow barren quick... no you have to be a nomad with your feats. Hop from day to day with new ways to satisfy that same undying urge. This is the timeless pursuit that we all face, and at 3am under Orion's saggy waistline it doesn't seem to need to include another person. No change, nor really any need of change. The search for fruit is solo. You only need to feed yourself. You don't need to feed anybody, you choose to.
Semirelated Thought: As a rich man and a homeless man have both the same freedoms, so do our loves intertwine like two dimensions a universe apart but layered in exactly the same place. The ultimate full circle.
All of this this could get difficult because I haven't had any children yet. This whole subject is subject to potential contradiction later.
Had enough? Neither have I. But our imaginations are cornucopial fruitbearing steamengines. Embrace your everstable self, and risk it all again and again. Because 10 years down the line you'll likely be where I'm finding too - driving down an empty highway staring at Orion's icy belt, making wishes, hearing the same ageold tunes, welcoming adventure, warmed by the present and thankful for your one cold elbow kissing the dark, reminding you of "home".
Voila.
Migs
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Working Hard or Hardly Working
Typical post-W shift:
Walked to Subway, watched the Blackeyed Peas be interviewed on a blue carpet, ate a sandwich, talked to Steve Earkle (Jalil White) laughed at the absurdity of pretty much everything, walked to Dillons, made a purchase and now I'm upstairs watching pool.
And a TV show on one of the many sportsbar screens.. OK Go just came on the stereo. There are hundreds of beautiful girls in this bar, none of which I can make eye-contact with, talk to and eventually smooch. So instead I'm watching this show - shot in HD. The actors, I'm watching quite closely, use such big facial expressions. Actors. What the heck are actors?! I could write a tome on my thoughts right now but I don't want to disclose quite yet my opinion on the sitch. Let's just say, the way actors "act" these days is funny to me - it's comedy just to see the pain and toil of it all.. for what? A shot at an audition where they can impress the right people? Really? My one opinion: It's the same as any profession: if, while you're working, you're not in LOVE with what you're doing (the people, place, product) then why do it?
I've been in love three times in my life. One of those is with acting/creating shows. I'm a child around the entertainment industry, I'm obsessed with it. I'm in love with performances, movies, creating stories in every way. That's how I know. Competely obsessed with actors and artistic visioneers. It amazes me.
Whatever your pursuit, I hope you're obsessed with it too. Because when you finally get to do it, you can never get enough of it. It's like kissing someone you've always wanted to kiss - you just don't want to stop.
Well this got weird. I'm going hoome!! Birthday party in 2 weeks? I think SO. Who wants to go? I cordially invite anybody who's reading this. :)
Details later, yo.
Mikie
Walked to Subway, watched the Blackeyed Peas be interviewed on a blue carpet, ate a sandwich, talked to Steve Earkle (Jalil White) laughed at the absurdity of pretty much everything, walked to Dillons, made a purchase and now I'm upstairs watching pool.
And a TV show on one of the many sportsbar screens.. OK Go just came on the stereo. There are hundreds of beautiful girls in this bar, none of which I can make eye-contact with, talk to and eventually smooch. So instead I'm watching this show - shot in HD. The actors, I'm watching quite closely, use such big facial expressions. Actors. What the heck are actors?! I could write a tome on my thoughts right now but I don't want to disclose quite yet my opinion on the sitch. Let's just say, the way actors "act" these days is funny to me - it's comedy just to see the pain and toil of it all.. for what? A shot at an audition where they can impress the right people? Really? My one opinion: It's the same as any profession: if, while you're working, you're not in LOVE with what you're doing (the people, place, product) then why do it?
I've been in love three times in my life. One of those is with acting/creating shows. I'm a child around the entertainment industry, I'm obsessed with it. I'm in love with performances, movies, creating stories in every way. That's how I know. Competely obsessed with actors and artistic visioneers. It amazes me.
Whatever your pursuit, I hope you're obsessed with it too. Because when you finally get to do it, you can never get enough of it. It's like kissing someone you've always wanted to kiss - you just don't want to stop.
Well this got weird. I'm going hoome!! Birthday party in 2 weeks? I think SO. Who wants to go? I cordially invite anybody who's reading this. :)
Details later, yo.
Mikie
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Dreams and mint leaves
It's superbowl Sunday, which is virtually meaningless to me. This homemade cup
of sumatra is more exciting.
Writing. There's plenty to write but nothing to say. I'm staring at my seatless bike chained to a white metal fence overgrown with roses, I'm sitting on a cement patio crosslegged and shirtless, there's a ruffled pile of doggie blanket by the door, the sun is at full warmth, the sky white blue yellow and clear.
And I literally JUST discovered an overgrown bush of mint leaves sprouting at my left, right where the patio ends into sidewalk. This is 3 feet from my doorway. Excellent.
Last night I had a dream that I had to get stuff out of Candice's car from in front of her house in Vacaville, and it was around 4am. Her dad was just waking up as I was on the secret mission of exchanging our bikes (something in the dream we had previously talked about). I could hear her dad stirring around the house, saw the living room light come up in the early darkness, and even heard some of his laughter. My heart struggled with a desire to run inside and say hello..I even felt a sort of longing for his approval. It was weird, like a comfortable feeling of a lost home.
I ended up switching over the bikes quickly, just as Lucy came dashing out and the sky was blushing rose. I grabbed my backpack and sprinted down the street, looking back the whole time to see if she would follow. She just turned and found something interesting..
It was one of a few crazy dreams I've had this week, random ones. Things that hang in the back of the mind like a movie left on pause and the TV turned off.
Well I guess I should do laundry and get my superbowl festivities on, whatever they might be. I miss my family and their awesomeness. Now that I'm getting settled in this new house, thoughts of the loves of my life keep coming back. Family, you guys are the main ones. Wherever you are, I love ya.
Here's to mint growing 3 feet from my door :)
Mikie
of sumatra is more exciting.
Writing. There's plenty to write but nothing to say. I'm staring at my seatless bike chained to a white metal fence overgrown with roses, I'm sitting on a cement patio crosslegged and shirtless, there's a ruffled pile of doggie blanket by the door, the sun is at full warmth, the sky white blue yellow and clear.
And I literally JUST discovered an overgrown bush of mint leaves sprouting at my left, right where the patio ends into sidewalk. This is 3 feet from my doorway. Excellent.
Last night I had a dream that I had to get stuff out of Candice's car from in front of her house in Vacaville, and it was around 4am. Her dad was just waking up as I was on the secret mission of exchanging our bikes (something in the dream we had previously talked about). I could hear her dad stirring around the house, saw the living room light come up in the early darkness, and even heard some of his laughter. My heart struggled with a desire to run inside and say hello..I even felt a sort of longing for his approval. It was weird, like a comfortable feeling of a lost home.
I ended up switching over the bikes quickly, just as Lucy came dashing out and the sky was blushing rose. I grabbed my backpack and sprinted down the street, looking back the whole time to see if she would follow. She just turned and found something interesting..
It was one of a few crazy dreams I've had this week, random ones. Things that hang in the back of the mind like a movie left on pause and the TV turned off.
Well I guess I should do laundry and get my superbowl festivities on, whatever they might be. I miss my family and their awesomeness. Now that I'm getting settled in this new house, thoughts of the loves of my life keep coming back. Family, you guys are the main ones. Wherever you are, I love ya.
Here's to mint growing 3 feet from my door :)
Mikie
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