I no longer have a computer charger cord, and I use precious battery hours watching "Bones" on Hulu. (I secretly want to be Bones. I can't quite figure out her back story because there's only like, ten episodes up from previous seasons, but she knows three different types of martial arts!) This is one of my favourite songs from an episode, and yes, as is typical, the accompanying YouTube music video is cheesy, but I chose to link this one because it actually uses clips from the show.
Pride - Syntax
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Nothing Left to Lose
Something's in the air tonight
The sky's alive with a burning light
You can mark my words something's about to break
And I found myself in a bitter fight
While I've held your hand through the darkest night
Don't know where you're coming from but you're coming soon
To a kid from Oregon by way of California
All of this is more than I've ever known or seen
Come on and we'll sing, like we were free
Push the pedal down watch the world around fly by us
Come on and we'll try, one last time
I'm off the floor one more time to find you
And here we go there's nothing left to choose
And here we go there's nothing left to lose
So I packed my car and I headed east
Where I felt your fire and a sweet release
There's a fire in these hills that's coming down
And I don't know much but I found you here
And I can not wait another year
Don't know where you're coming from but you're coming soon
To a kid from Oregon by way of California
All of this is more than I've ever known or seen
Come on and we'll sing, like we were free
Push the pedal down watch the world around fly by us
Come on and we'll try, one last time
I'm off the floor one more time to find you
And here we go there's nothing left to choose
And here we go there's nothing left to lose
I can still hear the trains out my window
From Hobart Street to here in Nashville
I can still smell the pomegranates grow
And I don't know how hard this wind will blow
Or where we'll go
- Mat Kearney
The sky's alive with a burning light
You can mark my words something's about to break
And I found myself in a bitter fight
While I've held your hand through the darkest night
Don't know where you're coming from but you're coming soon
To a kid from Oregon by way of California
All of this is more than I've ever known or seen
Come on and we'll sing, like we were free
Push the pedal down watch the world around fly by us
Come on and we'll try, one last time
I'm off the floor one more time to find you
And here we go there's nothing left to choose
And here we go there's nothing left to lose
So I packed my car and I headed east
Where I felt your fire and a sweet release
There's a fire in these hills that's coming down
And I don't know much but I found you here
And I can not wait another year
Don't know where you're coming from but you're coming soon
To a kid from Oregon by way of California
All of this is more than I've ever known or seen
Come on and we'll sing, like we were free
Push the pedal down watch the world around fly by us
Come on and we'll try, one last time
I'm off the floor one more time to find you
And here we go there's nothing left to choose
And here we go there's nothing left to lose
I can still hear the trains out my window
From Hobart Street to here in Nashville
I can still smell the pomegranates grow
And I don't know how hard this wind will blow
Or where we'll go
- Mat Kearney
Sunday, March 22, 2009
In the Ring
I went to my screenwriting prof on Friday and sat down in front of his desk with a world-weary expression.
"Let's talk about my screenplay," I said.
"Ok," he said. "Let's do it."
It sucks. It's exceptionally bad. It's confused. It's a totally different genre for me (that's a weak excuse). It's as awkward and clumsy as a pimply thirteen year old at a middle school dance. It's unemotional. It's uninspired (and I'm basing it off the Bible). Its characters are flat and they can't seem to decide which side of the theological issue they're on. It's supposed to be my breaking in script, and all it's doing is breaking my heart (I was not this dramatic with J).
I wanted to bang my head on his desk. I wanted to say, "Look, J, I know this is awful. Tell me the few things I'm doing right to bolster my spirits and give me something to aim for. Then tell me to fix the rest of the *$&*# thing."
"It's a first draft," he told me.
Not reassuring. Not ok. This is the first draft of my fifth script. You think I would have learned something by now.
Current Draft and I are butting heads. We're wrestling a little. It's like pulling teeth, if you could pull teeth from an idea. Or maybe the screenplay is pulling my teeth, and that's why I feel so uncomfortable with it.
What I'm hoping is this -- I'm hoping that my screenplay is not so terrible (though I know for a fact it is), and that my intense frustration comes instead from the fact that I'm becoming better and better at reading screenplays and recognizing what makes a good one. And that my first draft doesn't fulfill those requirements. But that's a good thing - to be able to self diagnosis your own screenplay. It takes pretty objective eyes to do so. I've had some help recently, from fellow bloggers Mystery Man and Billy Mernit. Their respective post on the Timid Screenwriter and Bad Writing Parts 1 and 2 articulated for me what I know my weaknesses with this script are and allowed me to break some well established rules in order to fix the problems.
Together they hit on one of my biggest struggles with Current Draft up to date. In my attempts to be the epitome of screenwriting conciseness, I think I've managed to cut all emotion out of my screenplay. Of course, emotion can be conveyed a lot of ways, through plot choices and dialog and smart writing, but it does require a certain amount of words to be conveyed. MM's Traits of the Timid Screenwriting #4 - Excessively pared-down dialog and action lines. Bingo. Will the dazed and daunted screenwriting student in the corner of the coffee shop please stand up? Followed by Billy's "break the rules! write bad(ly) to convey the emotion of your story!" post (it was more resigned than the way I just summarized it there), I felt a small glow of hope. I had been too concerned with writing professional than I had been with writing well. I hadn't fully explored the emotion of the story in order to figure out how to write it well. And while someday I will be able to write concise and follow "show, don't tell" strictly and still manage to convey the emotion of the story, it's not something I can do perfectly right now, or at least not in this draft. Because first you have to know what you're writing, before you can write it well.
As I stood up to leave J's office, he called after me, "Amy. It should be fun."
I rolled my eyes and grumbled something about how it had been fun when it was only an idea and wished him a good weekend.
But it's true. And Current Draft and I, we're taking things easy. We're trying to rediscover the balance between the story and the craft. It's a little sloppy, a little messy, but there's definitely a lot more fun in this relationship.
"Let's talk about my screenplay," I said.
"Ok," he said. "Let's do it."
It sucks. It's exceptionally bad. It's confused. It's a totally different genre for me (that's a weak excuse). It's as awkward and clumsy as a pimply thirteen year old at a middle school dance. It's unemotional. It's uninspired (and I'm basing it off the Bible). Its characters are flat and they can't seem to decide which side of the theological issue they're on. It's supposed to be my breaking in script, and all it's doing is breaking my heart (I was not this dramatic with J).
I wanted to bang my head on his desk. I wanted to say, "Look, J, I know this is awful. Tell me the few things I'm doing right to bolster my spirits and give me something to aim for. Then tell me to fix the rest of the *$&*# thing."
"It's a first draft," he told me.
Not reassuring. Not ok. This is the first draft of my fifth script. You think I would have learned something by now.
Current Draft and I are butting heads. We're wrestling a little. It's like pulling teeth, if you could pull teeth from an idea. Or maybe the screenplay is pulling my teeth, and that's why I feel so uncomfortable with it.
What I'm hoping is this -- I'm hoping that my screenplay is not so terrible (though I know for a fact it is), and that my intense frustration comes instead from the fact that I'm becoming better and better at reading screenplays and recognizing what makes a good one. And that my first draft doesn't fulfill those requirements. But that's a good thing - to be able to self diagnosis your own screenplay. It takes pretty objective eyes to do so. I've had some help recently, from fellow bloggers Mystery Man and Billy Mernit. Their respective post on the Timid Screenwriter and Bad Writing Parts 1 and 2 articulated for me what I know my weaknesses with this script are and allowed me to break some well established rules in order to fix the problems.
Together they hit on one of my biggest struggles with Current Draft up to date. In my attempts to be the epitome of screenwriting conciseness, I think I've managed to cut all emotion out of my screenplay. Of course, emotion can be conveyed a lot of ways, through plot choices and dialog and smart writing, but it does require a certain amount of words to be conveyed. MM's Traits of the Timid Screenwriting #4 - Excessively pared-down dialog and action lines. Bingo. Will the dazed and daunted screenwriting student in the corner of the coffee shop please stand up? Followed by Billy's "break the rules! write bad(ly) to convey the emotion of your story!" post (it was more resigned than the way I just summarized it there), I felt a small glow of hope. I had been too concerned with writing professional than I had been with writing well. I hadn't fully explored the emotion of the story in order to figure out how to write it well. And while someday I will be able to write concise and follow "show, don't tell" strictly and still manage to convey the emotion of the story, it's not something I can do perfectly right now, or at least not in this draft. Because first you have to know what you're writing, before you can write it well.
As I stood up to leave J's office, he called after me, "Amy. It should be fun."
I rolled my eyes and grumbled something about how it had been fun when it was only an idea and wished him a good weekend.
But it's true. And Current Draft and I, we're taking things easy. We're trying to rediscover the balance between the story and the craft. It's a little sloppy, a little messy, but there's definitely a lot more fun in this relationship.
I'll be Marie Antionette... only without the sad ending.
Last weekend one of our good friends had a birthday, and while he insisted he was going to buy his birthday cake from a bakery, D. and I protested that that was ridiculous, that we would bake him one. We are quite decent bakers and find any refusal of our baked goods as an affront on our domestic goddess-ness (that is clearly, er, in development).
He was set on Red Velvet. We used this recipe, from Smitten Kitchen, the same website from which my sister made this torte for my birthday which I made for G.'s birthday. It's one of my favourite websites for fancy desserts. While we were making his cake, we realized something about boys.
It's a well known saying that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but when it comes to cake, boys seem to have a very specific kind they like. A friend from high school's favourite was German Chocolate, A. was way too excited about his Red Velvet cake (though ours *did* turn out exceptional), and C. and G. agreed Pineapple Upside Down cake was their choice. D. and I don't have this sort of dedication to one particular cake. Cake is cake, and while I do prefer certain types (mmm, vanilla frosting), all cake is good.
Next on my list of kitchen capers? Just what my friends ask for.
He was set on Red Velvet. We used this recipe, from Smitten Kitchen, the same website from which my sister made this torte for my birthday which I made for G.'s birthday. It's one of my favourite websites for fancy desserts. While we were making his cake, we realized something about boys.
It's a well known saying that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but when it comes to cake, boys seem to have a very specific kind they like. A friend from high school's favourite was German Chocolate, A. was way too excited about his Red Velvet cake (though ours *did* turn out exceptional), and C. and G. agreed Pineapple Upside Down cake was their choice. D. and I don't have this sort of dedication to one particular cake. Cake is cake, and while I do prefer certain types (mmm, vanilla frosting), all cake is good.
Next on my list of kitchen capers? Just what my friends ask for.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Tales of a Student Producer, Part 4
The film I was coproducing wrapped two weeks ago while I was abroad for spring break. Now all I have to do is record some budget stuff, plan the wrap party, and distribute DVDs in a couple of months.
I caught up with the director during our screenwriting class the week after spring break to see how the shoots went. Apparently they were crazy. They had limited time, a lack of actors and crew, and completely modified shots. I always felt a little badly when we had to modify something. You have to be flexible on a film shoot, but there is a line that you can cross that sacrifices the integrity of the film, and I was always concerned that the demands for flexibility would force the director to make choices she didn't want. I think that filming anything is a huge accomplishment, but I think that this film will turn out great and will update when I see the finished product.
One of the things we talked about is how the finished product never matches what we imagine. I think it's a struggle every artist goes through, the moment the realize that nothing they ever produce will be as good as what they envisioned. It's really discouraging at first. My stories are never as good as they are when I'm working them out in my head. It's like failing every time you go to work. I think that it's something every artist has to make peace with if they're actually going to make art a life-long pursuit. But just because you it seems like you'll never reach your ideal doesn't mean that you don't closer and closer each time you pick up a camera or sit down at your computer or mix your paints. And just because I'm probably never going to get to the level of emotional, intellectual, crafted brilliance I desire in my stories doesn't mean I'm not going to get pretty darn close sometime. Perfection isn't the result of genius (at least not for me). Perfection is the result of hard work. And with that in mind, I can reconcile my ideal with the result a whole lot more easily.
It just sucks for everyone else, because you will never know how good the story actually is. : )
I caught up with the director during our screenwriting class the week after spring break to see how the shoots went. Apparently they were crazy. They had limited time, a lack of actors and crew, and completely modified shots. I always felt a little badly when we had to modify something. You have to be flexible on a film shoot, but there is a line that you can cross that sacrifices the integrity of the film, and I was always concerned that the demands for flexibility would force the director to make choices she didn't want. I think that filming anything is a huge accomplishment, but I think that this film will turn out great and will update when I see the finished product.
One of the things we talked about is how the finished product never matches what we imagine. I think it's a struggle every artist goes through, the moment the realize that nothing they ever produce will be as good as what they envisioned. It's really discouraging at first. My stories are never as good as they are when I'm working them out in my head. It's like failing every time you go to work. I think that it's something every artist has to make peace with if they're actually going to make art a life-long pursuit. But just because you it seems like you'll never reach your ideal doesn't mean that you don't closer and closer each time you pick up a camera or sit down at your computer or mix your paints. And just because I'm probably never going to get to the level of emotional, intellectual, crafted brilliance I desire in my stories doesn't mean I'm not going to get pretty darn close sometime. Perfection isn't the result of genius (at least not for me). Perfection is the result of hard work. And with that in mind, I can reconcile my ideal with the result a whole lot more easily.
It just sucks for everyone else, because you will never know how good the story actually is. : )
Friday, March 13, 2009
Case in point --
I secretly think that our graying UPS guy is in love with our bespectacled Master Gardener receptionist.
But it's only a guess.
But it's only a guess.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
:)
She got the call today
One out of the gray
And when the smoke cleared
It took her breath away
She said she didn't believe
It could happen to me
I guess we're all one phone call
from our knees
We're gonna get there soon
If every building falls
And all the stars fade
We'll still be singing this song
The one they can't take away
I'm gonna get there soon
She's gonna be there too
Cryin' in her room
Prayin' Lord come through
We're gonna get there soon
Oh it's your light
Oh it's your way
Pull me out of the dark
Just to show me the way
Cryin out now
From so far away
You pull me closer to love
Closer to love
Meet me once again
Down off Lake Michigan
Where we could feel the storm blowin
Down with the wind
And don't apologize
For all the tears you've cried
You've been way too strong now for all your life
I'm gonna get there soon
You're gonna be there too
Cryin' in your room
Prayin' Lord come through
We're gonna get there soon
Oh it's your light
Oh it's your way
Pull me out of the dark
Just to show me the way
Cryin out now
From so far away
You pull me closer to love
Closer to love
Cause you are all that I've waited for
All of my life
(We're gonna get there)
You are all that I've waited for
All of my life
You pull me closer to love hu huuh
Closer to love hu huuuh
Pull me closer to love
You pull me closer to love
Closer to love oh no
Closer to love
Closer to love
Pull me closer to love
- "Closer to Love" by Mat Kearney
One out of the gray
And when the smoke cleared
It took her breath away
She said she didn't believe
It could happen to me
I guess we're all one phone call
from our knees
We're gonna get there soon
If every building falls
And all the stars fade
We'll still be singing this song
The one they can't take away
I'm gonna get there soon
She's gonna be there too
Cryin' in her room
Prayin' Lord come through
We're gonna get there soon
Oh it's your light
Oh it's your way
Pull me out of the dark
Just to show me the way
Cryin out now
From so far away
You pull me closer to love
Closer to love
Meet me once again
Down off Lake Michigan
Where we could feel the storm blowin
Down with the wind
And don't apologize
For all the tears you've cried
You've been way too strong now for all your life
I'm gonna get there soon
You're gonna be there too
Cryin' in your room
Prayin' Lord come through
We're gonna get there soon
Oh it's your light
Oh it's your way
Pull me out of the dark
Just to show me the way
Cryin out now
From so far away
You pull me closer to love
Closer to love
Cause you are all that I've waited for
All of my life
(We're gonna get there)
You are all that I've waited for
All of my life
You pull me closer to love hu huuh
Closer to love hu huuuh
Pull me closer to love
You pull me closer to love
Closer to love oh no
Closer to love
Closer to love
Pull me closer to love
- "Closer to Love" by Mat Kearney
I'm alive just busy.
Whenever I make up stories about the people around me, they're always in love. Usually secretly.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
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