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In college I was a film student. I still have copies of my scripts. My notebooks were filled with story ideas and snatches of dialog. The storyteller in me disappeared with my last student film. I could not capture what was lost.
Since then I’ve been reading voraciously. Hemingway. Oates. McCarthy. Hammett.
Last night I realized why I was burning through all of those books. I yearned for a story that did not exist.
I opened a notebook and started writing. No preamble. Just one word after another. It was shocking. It was also dreadful.
I made a few edits, and unearthed a love story. In an hour the romance evolved into a love triangle.
I went to sleep at 3 a.m.
The whole experience reminds me of something Hemingway said:
“I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.”
I have a strange morning routine.
My Chihuahua, Sophie, has nothing but disdain for noise. Slamming doors. Laughter. Car honks. Basically any sound can send the little one running down the hallway to cower before my brother’s bedroom door.
So for her sake, I try to find a movie that will politely drown out all the usual sounds.
This morning’s choice was Singin’ in the Rain.
I am a fan of only a handful of Hollywood musicals but this Gene Kelly extravaganza is one of my favorites. I tend to fast forward to my favorite part whenever I pop this into the dvd.
I like Gene Kelly’s romance with Debbie Reynolds but it lacks chemistry. Their scenes are pure movie. There is no magic. Its cute. Very PG.
That is until half way through the film when you become immersed in “Broadway Melody” a breathtaking sequence with the incomparable Cyd Charisse steals the movie.
I just adore Gene Kelly when he dances with Cyd. She brings him to life. Its more than a look. His body language changes. He makes this shift from a boy into a lover. Its subtle and its perfect.
The rest of the movie pales in comparison to this one scene. In the end Debbie was never a match for Gene.
I did however find the clip on YouTube. So now you can see what I mean.
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I used to babysit. The two little girls in question were about 3 and 4. This was before I started going to college. I was strangely confused about what I was going to do with my life. So babysitting seemed like a good idea.
Feeling stifled and utterly frustrated I found ways to amuse myself. On one such day I thought it would be fun to teach the girls about Stanley Kubrick.
By lunch they ran up to my unsuspecting family wiggling their index fingers squealing out “RED RUM!”
*I never actually showed the movie to them. I wasn’t that bored.
Not too long ago I wrote about how listening to my Itunes music library filled me with some great memories from my childhood. I promised to share these so here is one such treat for this chilly Monday.
Today’s song is: “Green Onions” by Booker T. & The McG’s
When I was a little girl I spent most of my time with my parents. Basically every Friday night was spent watching movies. They would make some popcorn. We would throw several large pillows on the floor. And all three of us would stretch out in front of the TV and watch a movie.
I had an early introduction to great filmmaking. George Lucas. Martin Scorsese. Francis Ford Coppola. Steven Spielberg. Oliver Stone. I remember watching a lot of R-rated films. My parents do not realize it but if it had not been for this early education I would never had pursued filmmaking like I did in college. There was so much magic to telling a story.
To this day, I create a ritual out of watching movies. Its magic has not waned.
[The image was from my favorite site, FFFFOUND!.]
There are but very few actors who can make my heart race. Something about Sam Neill always felt right. I remember seeing him in The Hunt for Red October and he had such simple aspirations his character wanted to go to America, settle down on a farm with a good woman.
FFFFOUND! | atticus_flinch: в ролях
But I gotta admit that it was seeing him in Dead Calm that always made me yearn to be in his life. There is something so disarming about seeing a man delve deep into himself to not only survive but to also fight to save the woman he loved.
I just can’t help but love a man who is handy in a pinch. *Thank God for FFFOUND!.com for these strange blog moments. Tomorrow more music.
I have gotten behind in my duties. I have actually written up two blog entries in the last couple of days. I have not been near a computer so the entries will be added later tonight.
I have seen much and done much in the last couple of days. I’ve been roaming a local mall and getting a feel for this current marketplace. Gotta tell you I was saddened and overjoyed. More on that later.
I also watch several new movies which are worth mentioning because I believe that inspiration comes for several unlikely places.
I am loving this winter, I am absolutely filled with optimism. For the past few weeks I have been praying for some cooler weather and overcast days so that at least I can feel as though its is winter here in AZ. Surprise. Overcast days although great also mean that I no longer have natural light for product photos. I am spending more time in Photoshop than I’d like to admit.
You can’t have it all. Until later tonight, have a great evening!
There is and always will be time in my life for a new film. My favorite local rental had a shelf devoted to Judy Garland. I was searching for A Star is Born and stumbled upon The Clock.
The combination of Vincente Minnelli’s direction and Judy Garland’s performance, it can make you lovesick.
Below are some still images from the film. It would be pointless to describe my favorite scenes when the image speaks for itself.
Goodnight!
Didn’t get a pumpkin this year…for the most obvious reason.
Hope you enjoy a horrific Halloween. I’m off to watch some gore and silliness.
Be safe, zombies love the dark.
Every now and then I become caught up in my own disappointments such as bills, work, family and friends. In that state of mind I loose heart quite easily and become a hollow shell. Its an old habit I picked up as a child. A rich imaginary world where no harm could come to me.
As an adult its easy to fall back into this world and take from it the bones of a good story. Strange as that may sound the worst things that have ever happened to me in this life have helped feed my creativity and there is seldom a loss that can shake my foundation.
I’ve been poor. Been bullied. I’ve failed miserably at more things than I’d like.
As child when I used to fear the dark of night not sure if I should see the morning always worried that a monster would rip through my bed (thanks Freddie for that imagery). As an adult I’ve laid in bed thinking what if those monsters were true? What if I wake up to Freddie and his absurd shear-like fingers, what would I do?
Gotta tell you that if I do ever have the pleasure of meeting him in the dark of my bedroom at least then I don’t have to worry about those damn bills.
That thought alone gets me to sleep. There is a up side to everything.
