It Must Be Love

My hair is blonde.  I came out of the womb that way.  But since birth, or some fifteen years thereafter, I would occasionally have to take the necessary steps to maintain my goldie-locks.  The process is expensive and time consuming, which is why I only do it a couple times a year.  

It was a chilly morning in the fall, some six or seven years ago, and I had arrived to work with freshly highlighted hues of gold throughout my long, blonde hair.  I was happy to be at work that day, despite spilling an energy drink all over myself in the car on the way there.  It will be okay, I will change my clothes when I get to work.  Shortly after I arrived, I was called into the office.  "There's a problem with her hair, she was supposed to be a brunette, but I think we can fix it."  

Fix it?? But I just had it fixed yesterday?? Then came out the spray paint.  Though it wasn't spray paint exactly, it did have that sort of effect.  I sat in my chair, and watched in horror as clouds of brown dye engulfed my head.  "Good enough."  I was worried to say the least.  But time is money and I had work to do.  I stepped onto the set, and the rest of the day was a blur.  

A week later, I called the agency to report that the brown dye still hadn't come out of my hair.  They felt terrible for the mix up and offered a handful of solutions. Whatever. No biggie... It wasn't a glamorous day in Hollywood, but it was a small step in the direction I wanted to go. 

A few weeks later, I had stumbled upon a different opportunity to play nameless nurse on the show Scrubs.  Each day I would show up and go straight to wardrobe.  I would decide between plain scrubs or ones with crazy patterns on them.  Oh, and lets not forget my stethoscope.  

Then I would go find my spot on a couch with the other extras and we would silently wait.  Five hours and five cream sodas later, it was time.  Time to walk down the hallway for 15 seconds.  Time to mime a conversation in the cafeteria.  Time to shine... if only in the background.  

Yesterday, as I held my place in the standby line to a sold-out screening of Austenland, I thought back to those 12 hour days on set.  I recalled how happy I was, just to be there.  And although, I never did utter a single word aloud on any of those shows back then,  the feeling I had experienced of sitting there waiting, was similar to that of falling in love with a boy who hasn't really noticed you yet... I was anxious and hopeful. 

I somehow managed to score three tickets to Austenland, so it was time to move to yet another long line.  The ticket holder line, that stretched for three blocks.  I walked to the very end and waited.  All the while, wearing a dopey grin on my face like I had a serious schoolyard crush.  Some people paced, sighed, fanned themselves and frequently glanced at their watches.  But all I could feel, were butterflies. 

This is how you know you're madly in love.  When all of the things that turn others away, are the very same things that bring happy tears to my eyes: the smell of popcorn from morning until midnight, the crowded theaters and standby lines to sold-out shows, wearing the same film festival t-shirt for three days in a row...

I've had a crush for a very long time, but after seeing three films yesterday that truly enriched my life, bonding with strangers over which films to see, erupting in applause as the credits roll and eating an oversized tub of popcorn, I can honestly say that I think it's starting to get really serious.  I'm ready to take the next step.  It must be love.  

Today: 

Mojito

1 oz light rum

muddle two lime wedges, 

three to four fresh mint leaves and

a splash of simple syrup

Add rum and shake. 

Splash of soda 

TCFF Q&A with Austenland DirectorJJ Fields 

and TCFF founder Michael Moore

One of the best films I have ever seen.

 

Course Correcting

For a very long time, I felt so far from where I wanted to be; as if the destination for my dreams lay far out of my reach.  The roadmap to get there was tattered and difficult to navigate.  I would remind myself that no one ever said it was going to be easy and I would just have to suck it up and do my best to press on ahead.  There were entire pieces missing from the map, and I would have to go in the direction that felt right or logical at the time.  But more often than not, I discovered that the course I had chosen was the long way around.

But similar to Dante's Inferno, I have discovered that sometimes the best way out of the darkness is to go directly through the center of it. Truth be told, it is terrifying.  But I can assure you that on the other side of fear, is enchantment: magic even.  Things have a way of falling into place without force.  Suddenly, wondrous and unexpected doors are revealed.

I cannot even begin to quantify the numerous seemingly coincidental occurrences on my course lately.  But are they coincidental really?  Or, is my path course correcting?  One seemingly insignificant decision can influence many, many more.  And when you surrender, things begin to fall into place. It is where the magic happens... 

Bright, shining signs point the way.  Perfect strangers, perfectly appear to lend a helping hand. They are guides too.  And things just happen. It has been a long, hard road, but  I chose to follow my bliss and I am only just beginning to see the domino effect in my own life.  The path is clearing and course-correcting.  The wonderful feeling of coming into the light is one that is very difficult to articulate.  But it's as real as anything I have ever known. 

Today, I will immerse myself wholly and entirely to my passion: film.  I am excited to venture into town and enjoy the last day of the Traverse City Film Festival 2013.  And I am ignited.  It took a long, tiresome road to get me to this place.  I have surrendered to my calling and I have never felt more alive inside. 

The funny thing is, I am only at the starting gate on this correct course.  Nothing too major has changed... yet. I still work behind a bar and serve others to pay my own way.  And I have no idea where or when the next door may open.  But the joy I feel each day writing, dreaming and working to achieve what I love, makes me feel more complete than I have in years.  The course is correct.  And I am certain of one thing; that I must continue on.  

Today: 

Indiana Jones Cocktail

1/2 shot Tequila

1/2 shot Whiskey

Pour Champagne to fill the glass

Serve on the rocks in a highball. 

Below is a video of when I emerged from the subway in NYC 

and saw Central Park for the first time.

  

August Odds

Just a few days ago, I heard that a friend of a friend went to the local casino and struck it big.  He had gone by himself and played the penny slots no less.  Can you imagine? It would be a pretty insane feeling, to throw a few pennies in the slot and suddenly have the machine shake back and forth, declaring you the winner.  And although I am sure he had hoped for it, he probably never imagined that he would actually hit the jackpot that night.  What are the odds?

I pondered this as I walked down the street to the little French café in town.  It was my day off yesterday and I was excited to be able to spend time with my mom. 

Suddenly, when I emerged from the back alley to the main street, I found myself surrounded by a pretty serious crowd. I was in complete shock.  Like a school of fish, they flowed seamlessly around me and continued on their way. But who were all of these people? Where were they going?

Then, I looked over to the opposite side of the street and noticed a line of people that stretched over three blocks. I pointed myself in the direction that they faced and saw the Old State Theater surrounded by orange cones and over a dozen volunteers.   Were all these people going to the movies?  The sight of all these people supporting the Traverse City Film Festival actually brought tears to my eyes.

I’ve known about the Traverse City Film Festival for many years.  But since I am not a resident of Michigan and always come to visit around the fourth of July, I tend to miss the film fest that usually takes place toward the very end of July and the first week of August. 

I crossed the street to the French café where I was able to score a table outside on the patio, right next door to the State Theater.  While I was waiting for my mom to arrive, I noticed a T-shirt hanging for sale on the Film Festival’s merchandise stand: it was waving back and forth in the breeze like a flag at half mass.  When it settled down and lay flat against the others, I noticed something truly amazing.

The T-shirt had an image of an Airstream trailer on the front with the letters TCFF on the side.  And it was like the hand of God reached down from heaven and beckoned me to the Film Festival.  There is something you have to know about me in order to fully grasp the significance of this.  I am OBSESSED with two things: vintage Airstream trailers and Film.  And somehow, the film festival had designed a T-shirt that incorporated the two things I love so much.  Coincidence maybe?  I sat there in complete amazement.  And the pull I felt to join my people was stronger than it has ever been in my life.

Then things got really strange. 

I was flipping through the film festival program, when I noticed the image on the front had referenced The Wizard of Oz.  And then, a moment later, a shuttle bus pulled in front of the theater and I saw all the characters from Oz decaled on the side.

All the stars were aligning perfectly.  You see, last week I wrote about supporting young filmmakers in a post titled Walk of Fame/Walk of Shame.  And in that little essay, I would often reference the Wizard of Oz.  Even more of an odd coincidence, I referred to Traverse City as “a little gem” which happens to be the meaning behind the name of the brand new movie theater that was created in a restored building here in town, just near the bay. 

Now tell me, what are the odds of that? Was it subliminal? Or is this the universe telling me that the odds are actually stacking in my favor?  I may not have hit the jackpot yet, but something tells me that a penny and a wish have more possibility than ever before. 

I can’t be sure of what to make out of all these… signs. However there is one thing that I do know for certain: there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there is no place like home.  And oddly enough, I know I am almost home… I can just feel it. 

 

Today:

Cosmopolitan

2 oz Vodka

1/2 oz Cointreau

Splash of Cranberry

Splash of lime juice

shake and strain into a martini glass

On a Mission to Neverland

There is a frontier, a Road Less Traveled and my compass is pointing in that direction.  This uncharted land sits just beyond my reach, but is not out of my scope of vision.  Not yet, that is.

Sometimes I need to remind myself of the goal, the aim, the vision... the mission.  I am struggling to find the words to describe the ongoing battle of wills that I am faced with each and every single day.  It is an inner struggle.  To choose this path is difficult.  It can seem... impractical, flighty and unrealistic. 

And I suppose it is somewhat unrealistic, until proven otherwise. But I'm on a mission.  And no one else can get me there but my own two feet.  

Marching along to the beat of my own drum, I hear ominous whispers in the distance: the threat of failure, self doubt, and defeat mocking from the hillsides. You can't. You won't. If you could, you would have by now. Grow up. Give up. Get real. 

The seeds of doubt are planted deep within.  And sometimes, I struggle to find the very antidote to all these self defeating shadows of doubt: faith. 

Faith is a funny thing.  It is the ability to believe in something that has not been proven yet.  It is like a super human strength.   I may not be able to see what lay just beyond my scope of vision yet, but I believe that I will see it someday.  

It is a hard mission. And truth be told, I am terrified of failure.  The very thought of it makes my entire body tense up.  

When I was a little girl, I believed anything was possible.  I had that kind of innocent enchantment with possibility. Similar to the way a little child believes in the Tooth Fairy or making wishes on shooting stars, is how I believed in myself, once upon a time.  Optimism like that, is a truly rare and beautiful thing. 

This morning, I woke up to my latest routine on the route to my own version of Neverland.  Before I so much as opened my eyes, it began.  What am I doing? How much more can I take? I am never going to get there. This is a lonely road.

I woke up tired and restless. Last night was crazy at work. The bar was hit hard, all at once.  I was moving as fast as I could, but it just wasn't fast enough. And this morning, exhausted and anxious, I rolled reluctantly out of my bed. I was fighting a serious case of the flunkies. 

And then, the defenses kicked in.  Like the Lost Boys marching through the forest in Never Neverland, I waged a counter-attack on all fronts.  This is war.

Never never grow up. Never never give up.  Never stop believing. Surrender? No way.  I'm on a mission. But one thing is certain: I'll never ever get there, if I never ever try.  

So today I've decided, I'm going to continue down this road, and keep on believing. 

Today:

Manhattan

2 oz Whiskey or Bourbon

Dash of Sweet Vermouth

Stir and strain

Serve up in a martini glass

Garnish with a cherry and dream big!

Walk of Fame/Walk of Shame

Ah the good ole days... Think back for a moment to the great Golden Era of cinema.  The Hollywood heavyweights who ruled the silver screen were considered to be nothing short of American royalty.  Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn were amongst the legendary greats of the old Hollywoodland.

Though I can't be sure, I imagine that back then, when youngsters set their sights on the star-studded path that led to Sunset Boulevard, the general perception was that the Entertainment Industry was in fact an industry.  It's difficult to sum up how the general population must have perceived Showbiz at that time. I often wonder if parents were generally supportive of their little budding stars, or if they were actually mortified by the very thought of their first-born sons hitching a ride down the yellow brick road.

When a young Alfred Hitchcock set his sights on this road less traveled,  was he also faced with a certain measure of skepticism?  You want to go make movies? Wait... Horror films?? Sigh... 

I guess it's safe to say that times have changed and along with it, the industry.  The rise of the internet, as well as sophisticated, tech savvy high-school kids, have paved a new road to Hollyweird.  And the number of ways to "make it" appear more multi-faceted than ever before.

Various incentives for filmmakers have sprung up nationwide. The competition to lure Hollywood away from its cozy kingdom of L.A. la  land is a constant and ever changing pursuit. Bring your business to other states and even, other countries, where the production costs are less than in the darling Golden State.

And yet Hollywood, however weird, reigns supreme.

All of these thoughts were running through my mind as I sat outside the front door of this truly wonderful "mom and pop" style book store.  This town is home to many true Independents.  The locals, who are active in the community, support these privately owned businesses as well as their operators: they buy, sell, and produce local.

So is it any wonder that this enchanted little gem of a town is now home to the Traverse City Film Festival? Independents and veterans alike swarm to this community every summer for this prestigious event.  Great films and fantastic entertainment have arrived. Top notch support from patrons, volunteers and city government officials.

I pulled my nose out of my book for a moment to catch a glimpse of the flickering lights of the Old State Theater just two doors down.  And then, without a hitch,  as if I was in a Hitch film myself, two elderly women sat down side by side behind me.  They were almost perfectly matched.  Both, nearly identical.  Short silver haired bobs and matching nautical striped blouses, made up what could have easily been mistaken for jail bird attire from way back when. And I couldn't help but overhear...

"Well, my grandson is in college and wants to get into filmmaking," she sighed.

And as if she were looking at her own reflection, her companion chimed in without missing a beat, "Oh dear... What is he actually going to do for a living? He's in his third year of school. He better get a more realistic plan."

I have to be honest that the entire experience was a little depressing. Here we are, in now what is one of the most prominent communities for promoting and supporting the entertainment industry and yet the perception of that career path is still chalked up as more of a walk of shame than a walk of fame.

The path leading to Monet's pond, where he painted the famed Water Lilies, may have been a lonely one.  And I'm sure that a great treasury of artists have sojourned onward to the lands just under the rainbow. What a bleak picture the great Museums around the world would look like if these soldiers of expression had not marched on.

How sad indeed the world would appear if the glistening lights of the silver screen went out.  I can't even imagine such a place.

I can appreciate the point of view that we need to be practical.  I understand that to pursue film, or any other creative venture for that matter, seems quite unrealistic. The roll of the eyes is merely a scratch at the surface of the opposition and doubt an artist will encounter throughout the course of their journey.

I would encourage our respective elders to try and promote the young artists in our communities.  And I would also encourage these young artists (myself included) to be prepared, resourceful and armed with a number of practical skill sets that span beyond the creative path.

We may not be in Kansas anymore, but can you imagine if we never saw Oz?  If we are to be great, and paint our own masterpieces, we must face criticism, skepticism and practicality with heads held high.  The glow of a thousand great Stars illuminate the path, if you just keep believing.

Today:

A Black Dahlia

1 1/2 oz Vodka
1 oz Creme de Cassis
Splash of Lemonade
Shake and strain 
Serve up in a martini glass
Sugar Rim