Blog 001 dec 21,2018. Full Moon and Winter Soltice Hike
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Blog 001 dec 21,2018. Full Moon and Winter Soltice Hike
Just Remember, Curiosity Killed the Cat
Said my dark half to my other
The sky outside
The date today is August 27. The drop in temperature last week was quick. I pulled out my duvet I had tucked away in the heat of July. My bedroom window is more narrowly open. It’s 1am and it seems suddenly very dark out. The sky outside is a cold soundless black I had forgotten.
The summer haze is over. Winter is coming.
This Sunday afternoon, chess and wine at third beach with the sun only peaking through. These beach days are numbered.
The big Gorilla at La Push.
Seattle earth Seattle sky. On the way to the coast.
Here's a picture Björn took with his Polaroid. Do you see how the ocean breathes?
La Bouche, Aug 2018
There is a second and third beach on the Washington Coast in a First Nations town ( or do Americans say Natives?) called La Push.
The town is located at the opening of a river and wild salmon track. The story of the name La Push goes that the French who first arrived called it “la bouche” as in “the mouth” of the river. The story goes that Westerners heard it as “la pouche”.
There is also a second and third beach in Vancouver, in Stanley Park. They’re playful beaches. Packed with people. They have yellow sand. Are good spots to watch the sunset from the city. The second beach in La Push has nothing in common with Vancouvers. In La Push the beach is otherworldly.
La Push has a weight to it, like a feeling of invisible laws of nature. On Second beach, the giant stones seem to be watching over. We named many of them. There was Deb, the disgruntled overseer. The big Gorilla can be seen in our polaroid pic.
The waves are loud. On the gentlest days you do not hear friends at a distance... not beyond 15 or 20 ft on the quietest days. We’re there for 3 nights.
There were a couple layers to my trip there.. on one hand, I shared an incredible experience with Bjorn on the beach and on the other hand, I had my own spiritual experience/struggle there..
By night, the waves crashing on to shore were so loud I could only hear Bjorn if he was next to me.... . The sight of the waves extending so far in and out was like watching the ocean breathe. Ripples and ripples of huge waves... The wash came up a hundred meters.
Here's a picture Bjorn took with his Polaroid. Do you see the ripples of the ocean waves? In the picture, we're sitting in the middle of the beach on top of a big rock. A top the Little Gorilla. ... Maybe half the size as the one in the picture there.
The sky above these giant rocks that scattered the beach was often hazy due to the forest fires, making the sun pink. We climbed rocks, caves, found starfish, sea cucumbers. The days went by pretty quickly.
I had some trouble staying connected with him here... Like the waves were pulling me in and out of the deep dark .... I had feelings and thoughts that were completely unrelated to the space I was in. I dreamed of my mom every night, dreamed of my brother, of high school, of past lovers, past friends, of my old cat. .....
I would wake up and look at him and feel so much light and love from and around him... I sometimes was pulled into it with him or I felt darkness pulling me away. On our second night I almost told him that I loved him. On our third night, I went to sleep early from lack of wanting.
I wonder if we're attracted to people who share the same kind of darkness as we do. I wonder if that darkness comes from our relationship with our parents. It feels like he has very little darkness compared to me. Surely he has?... but I don't see it.
There’s something to be said about connecting to god or the universe on this beach.
It’s a wonderful thing to be in a state of wonder. And when I’m a good audience to my life, my life becomes better and better theatre. When something delightful happens, I can shout, ‘Encore!’ and be tickled when it happens again. When something maddening happens, i can laugh it off. Either way, I’m glad I got a ticket to the show.
Unknown
Searching for a Blue monkey
Open hearted wisdom, simplicity, joyfulness. A transparency in which slings and arrows of the world can pass right through. Child like wonder.
In love: In life
THE WAY YOU DO ANYTHING IS THE WAY YOU DO EVERYTHING
Economics
Is the production, consumption and transfer of wealth. And also, of love.
Love is a transfer between people. It isn't a desire or knowledge or admiration. It's a challenge. And when it dies, everything is changed.
A transfer can be empty. Or purposeful. Or dangerous.
In the time that it's presented to one person, for use other than their own, it could be more effective, efficient, profitable. Not necessarily fair.
Like in economics, there is no way of knowing the outcome of the investment. We can predict the outcome, but there are multilayered factors at play.
Emotional fragility seems like a psychological problem, but it has only a philosophical answer. People are really tough only after they have taken a leap of faith for some truth or mission or love. Once they’ve done that they can withstand a lot.
David Brooks, NYTimes
What Am I?
I can start a war or end one
I can give you the strength of heroes or leave you powerless
I might be snared with a glance
but no force can compel me to stay
what am I?
nanakorobi yaoki
The bridge between reality and my dream will require a lot work. I'm not where I want to be yet, but I will be.
Fiction gives life it's form
Jean Anouilh, play write
Story is Life, Says Robert McKee.
The world is consuming film, television, articles and novels with hunger. Stories have become what Robert McKee calls “humanity’s prime source of inspiration, as it seeks to order chaos and gain insight into life”.
Life after all is happening to us so fast- sometimes it's easier to learn and make conclusions when it's another characters story. It's a "profound human need to grasp the patterns in life", according to McKee. Watching film, theatre, story, is not just as an intellectual experience but as a very personal emotional experience.
Like you, I'm hungry for a good story. Although I'm trying to do it as a screenwriter I think we're all trying to create- the goal is to produce a good one worth telling.
There are two parts to what I'm calling a good story: first, is the part that makes the story worth watching, and then secondly what makes the story lasting and resonating.
Your character’s intention and obstacle is what guides her plot. Later, she’s defined by the actions and tactics she uses to overcome those obstacles and get what she wants. In other words, she’s not the sun glasses, converse shoes or choice of martini. She's not even defined by her attitude or her snarky or sweet dialogue — it's how she overcomes the obstacles presented to her that define who she is. It's a simple story principle. Think of any of your favourite characters and what defines them, and you will think of any action.
So here we are, part one: a story. But we don't just want any story, we want one worth watching. For Robert McKee, “Lasting entertainment is found in the charged human truths beneath the image”.
For McKee, the charged truth comes from self-knowledge. In a character’s story arc, an experience can be overrated- it’s worthless without reflection and reaction to one’s life. In Quintin Tarantino's Kill Bill, Bellatrix Kiddo is caught ravenous and buried alive 6 ft under ground.
It goes that in order for a story arc to move forward, there has to be the chaos of life slowing your character down from getting what she wants and she has to react and reflect on it, in order to change. She may have to lose and lose and win and lose again before winning it. She has to change; no one ever wrote a good story about someone who didn’t change.
When her anger changes to panic, Kiddo stops and slows her breathing. She recalls the story of her old Sensai, Pai Mai who Bill himself left her with to train. She recalls her perseverance back then, the brutality and returns to her current obstacle with new determination.
You can live deeply and observe carefully but if the experience passes, unexamined and unreflected, then the knowledge that existed there is equal to or less valuable than what could have been gained from a reading a book on your couch.
Self- knowledge is prized even in fiction. I think that's something worth considering.
Why get out of bed in the morning? To meet a friend, do some paper work, get some exercise? You get up to grow and come to know your self. That's good the story.
And all you need to get it is an intention and a tricky goddamn obstacle. Whether it's a good story, depends on how you choose to overcome your obstacles.. do you let it slide by or so your reflect and try and try again to move forward?
An unexpected direction
“These mountains you carry, you were only supposed to climb”…
Living underneath mountains that you can climb is a blessing. I climbed up to Garibaldi Lake last Thanksgiving weekend with a friend and cleared my thoughts. And took this sweet picture.
That trip and a good work week made today’s Saturday worthy of enjoying. I went for a two hour bike ride around the sea wall, met a girl friend for tea in my hood, ate a huge bowl of homemade lentil soup, took a fucking nap then went to see a play with a theatre friend on GI (Granville Island). The play called The Concierge was a mediocre production and yet a great story.. Even with it’s imperfections, I learned about the character and plot development. LEARNING about theatre and film is amazing. It’s like learning about life. That is, studying STORY is studying life. And to cap it off, it rained alllll bloody day and I got soaked twice and loved it. Vancouver! You’re alright. My friend told me tonight that a persons’ Will is tested when they are exposed to everything happening at once, and nothing happening at all. I feel like Nothing is Happening for me right now. It’s the fucking waiting game. I have been going crazy Waiting. Waiting to get the funding for my film, waiting to mark myself as a salesperson, waiting for next months rent money, waiting for love. *Cue jeopordy waiting music* What will it be first? Hopefully funding… let’s get that funding. I need the creative project so bad. I am a producer. I will produce this goddamn film. My script will fucking come to life. I am up in the middle of the night often. What happens is I go to bed as early as 10 and then I wake up at 3AM and am awake till 5AM. I don’t drink that much of anything. Smoke weed occasionally. I could probably meditate before bed… clear the mind … maybe then I wouldn’t wake up with nightmarish thoughts of this dude-friend or kid or manchild and loneliness. And there it is. The twist in direction. The reason I am writing. In a play I saw about a month ago at Fringe Fest, a roughed up bearded character at the bar is getting drunk and angry and says, ‘Feelings about things are real because they lead to thinking and thinking leads to doing!“.
I like a good sentimental line like that.
Here’s an (old) article I’ll share. It’s about STORY. The interview is with the screenwriter of the film called The Social Network (the Facebook film). The screen writer (Aaron Sorkin) is also the teacher of my online screen writing course. I like this article because it simply reveals how an idea turned into a film. Not sure if it’s up your alley but it’s certainly on my mind. http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2021066,00.htm
These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.
Najwa Zebian