Plans 2015

I love making plans and itineraries.

I don't know why. I don't know how to describe what the stimulation is.

I know there's more of us out there. I know there's people like me, restless maybe, who relish in the nuts and bolts of everything, who overplan trips much to the nuisance of our comrades.

So am I going to write plans for my upcoming year? Well...yes.

As I've written before, it's one thing to say to a family member "I'm going to lose weight." It's another to write it down, to publish it, because then it becomes a living reality that one has to reckon with. Saying it becomes a conversation that doesn't hold weight, but writing it down...that plan now becomes a record. Someone can now retrieve your documents, some historian from 2334 C.E. and see that you wrote "I'm going to lose weight."

By the way, I'm not going to lose weight.

What I am going to do is record my plans that may or may not be followed. It takes exhausting work to fulfill ambition. Unfortunately some plans fall through the cracks. If I can accomplish 60% of my plans, I'm doing well. That doesn't deter me from making them.

As I said in the beginning of 2014, my plans revolve around a couple of ideas. One is Phase 2, a term I've come up for this stage of my life. The major focus of this is on my development as a screenwriter and director, and working on a career that fulfills my sociopolitical interests, like Library & Information Sciences.

Another idea is the 30 List which is a list of items I am undertaking before I turn 30. It primarily deals with travel but also personal goals and it informs Phase 2.

I talked about what I've worked on in the previous post to fulfill both those ideas. A great deal of progress has been made towards my professional and artistic goals. I made a short film, I'm writing, and I'm getting my graduate school credits.

Ultimately this upcoming year will be about continuing that momentum. I have a job that now informs my career. I'd like to take on an internship for the Summer, but my concentration is now and until accomplished to finish my degree. As I write this I am roughly two or three semesters from that completion. My plan at this moment (thus, subject to change) is to do two more semesters. I want a job in a library. I need to get that degree. I'm close, but I'm still in the middle of where I want to be. That's one plan: walk with a degree in hand, which is inevitable.

That's a professional goal, but there's this artistic thing I do. A lot of those plans are starting to rise up. To meet my 30 List goal of getting something I've made shown at a major film festival, I'm concentrating on making one short film every year. I have a script I'm working substantially on. It's about a young woman leaving behind a science career to fulfill her ambition to act. Essentially the script is about her audition process--her memoriziation of lines and the obvious climax. Currently the script needs a couple more revisions, but it's getting there. The title right nown is Skinny Dipping. I'm starting to make contacts outside my normal group. I find this rewarding because I'm getting "fresh eyes" to look at my scripts and provide feedback. Plus this short may actually have outside funding (emphasis on may).

In conjunction with this I'm going to be working on a new feature spec script. The one I worked on and revised last year was a fulfilling exercise, but I'm reluctant to hand it over to anyone. I have an idea already hatched up for a couple of feature specs, and I'm going to start working on one when I have an opportunity.

So for professional and artistic we have: complete MLIS, internship, make a new film, write a new script. BOOM!

Then there's the travel part of my 30 List. Ultimately Phase 2 is more heavily focused on artistic and professional goals, but I have to travel. I've bitten that bug and I can't stop making itineraries that I will carry out. The travel plans of Phase 2 are just more focused on domestic or local travel (North America). Last year because of my job situation I wasn't able to take advantage of any paid vacation time. Consequently I squeezed in San Francisco and D.C. which fulfilled some life goals and dreams, but this year I intend to fulfill a bit of my 30 List. I've already taken off for a week of vacation this  upcoming year so it's doable. Where am I going?

Last year I mentioned a desire to go to Arizona. This year that may happen. I'm still undecided, but by the end of the month I intend to make my decision between Arizona (Grand Canyon and Flagstaff area) and Quebec (Canada's on my 30 List). Of course I'm writing pros and cons lists, asking friends, etc at this stage. Roughly both trips are the same cost and cancel each other out in terms of pros and cons. What it boils down to is making a decision between nature and culture. With Arizona I get to be a part of wondrous natural environments, environments almost unreal (and Mars-like, which is half the factor). Quebec has elements of nature that can fulfill a little bit of that, but it's not as exotic. The climate for Quebec is fairly unpredictable that time of year. Then again Quebec has Montreal and Quebec City, beautiful walk-able cities with exceptionally good looking food, ice hockey (and my favorite team), a thriving film culture, and a foreign culture most definitely unlike mine.

See my indecision?

In an ideal world, and this may be possible, I'll be able to do both this year, so it's really a decision about what to do in March. What is definite is that I will be taking another item off the 30 List.

So these are my core plans.

Losing weight would be nice, but I'm not planning on it just yet.

Life Update Winter 2014

Well then. There are 17 more days left in 2014. Let's get a sprawling update in, shall we?

I mean, this blog has been neglected. This blog has been really, really neglected.

Only in the past week, as I catch up on a short script and as classes have ended for me, have I been able to intersperse some blog writing. Why no blog posts?

I've been busy. Whether that's positive or not, I'm not sure. I'd like to think so. For me, being productive has become a natural mode of being. I have to be productive to relatively adhere to my ambitions.

It's been hard, though. I am exhausted in every nook and cranny of my body, of my being.

So what's been going on?

I'll tell you what's been going on. I've been trying to live up to my Phase 2 plans, as I've outlined at the beginning of the year and it has taken every blood cell out of me.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

...

Let's list what I've done that I consider to be representative of my Phase 2 plans:

1) I completed a short film as director and co-producer named Awake. 

2) I revised and now have a spec feature script. Whether I do anything with it I don't know. Frankly, one's first spec script isn't probably going to be great. We'll see.

3) I revised and revised and...revised a little more my pilot spec script, which I submitted to the Austin Film Festival.

4) I have completed 21 hours of graduate level courses in my Master's of Library & Information Science.

5) I have traveled to San Francisco and Washington D.C. plus Savannah, GA and several trekking adventures in the mountains.

I completed all of these tasks while working jobs (I've had two this year) that required 40-44 hours a week.

Holy shit.

Completing these tasks meant certain other plans weren't able to happen. Completing this tasks meant that my energy was drained, that during the week I wasn't able to take in a lot of artistic or creative material other than poetry and on the weekends, movies. Completing these tasks meant that sometimes I wasn't able to fully realize and relish in my social life.

...

I am restless.

That's not a Levi's ad statement. That's not something I have hanging on my Pinterest board or Tumblr in cursive.

That word, "restless," or associated words like "restlessness," have emerged in my lexicon only this year. I began using the word with more frequency after watching the first episode of Ken Burns' The Roosevelts. Theodore Roosevelt was described as a restless, as interviewees remarked on how in every picture where he sat, his first was balled up on his leg, ready to "get action" as he would say.

I'm not Teddy Roosevelt. I am unable to read two books in one day. I am not negotiating peace treaties between Japan and Russia. But I am restless. I am the kind of person who taps on his leg, who balls fists on a leg.

This means sleep deprivation. This means taking on tasks that are difficult to maintain. This summer I wanted to see a friend's show in Flowery Branch. Unfortunately I found out that night I had a major assignment due...the next day. I could tell my friend that I won't be able to attend. Did I? No. I stayed up all night getting the majority of the assignment done. That was 12:30AM. I woke up at 5AM to get ready for work at 7AM where I have to drive 45 minutes (so I leave at 6AM for traffic). After work let out at 3:30 PM I went to the library, finished and turned in the assignment, drove from Commerce, GA to Flowery Branch.

I'm not patting myself on the back.

I speak of restlessness in a very neutral way. Unfortunately my restlessness is discussed here as part of how I look forward in growth and how I want to grow.

I am a Leslie Knope kind of person. Throughout my work I would work on nuts and bolts kind of stuff, creating itineraries for my trips and weighing other travel options through pros and cons lists. Like Leslie Knope, and with being restlessness, I have found that I am a steamroller. I have a tendency to be competitive, to spew my facts when unnecessary, to jump on conversations.

An example of this would be something trivial such as proving I'm right on something. "When was the Mall opened? 2004" a friend might ask. "No it was 1999" I might respond. "No, I think you're wrong." I could just say "Whatever," but instead I get on my smart phone and look up the opening date just to prove that individual wrong.

Who wants to hang out with that? Who wants to hang out with someone who always has be right?

This is something I am reckoning with, working to be more self-aware of. I have to learn to put a check on my nervous and restless energy, elements of myself that are certainly not endearing such as my anxiety, paranoia, etc. I have to find a way to get my balance back.

It's been difficult to retrieve that balance. I still write everyday but often it's for assignments or for homework. I have to utilize my discipline to find moments to relax, to unwind in some capacity. Everyday can't be a race. I can't always be wound up ready to go.

I'll be working on that.

...

Traveling has been discussed in my many blogs, but ultimately my travel plans didn't fit within my initial ambition. That doesn't make them any less meaningful.

The most substantial trips were to San Francisco and Washington D.C. which I have elaborated on. I also went to Asheville for a couple of weekends, to Savannah, and I underwent several mountain treks in Western North Carolina and North Georgia like Whiteside Mountain and Blood Mountain.

I talk about travel through this post to reflect on how my travels held common themes. In large respect, San Francisco and D.C. represented my fulfillment of younger dreams and aspirations. In most respects, these trips were detoxes. They were ways to handle issues going on or to reaffirm existential crises, whether it was to reaffirm a love of Georgia (Savannah), a love of film (San Francisco and seeing Linklater's Boyhood), or a better understanding of patriotism (D.C.). After being rejected by someone I was falling for, I detoxed in Asheville and hiked Chimney Rock and Whiteside Mountain. After a crisis with my friendships and with just a mind crunch at work, I trekked Blood Mountain.

This is what travel is about. It's about broadening perspective and seeing what you're made of.

I'd like to not require this many detoxes, however.

...

There is a positive feeling at having so much taken care of, however. I am most proud of my short film Awake. I've made films, I've worked on films, but this was a new level. This was putting every atom of my being into an artistic project. I wrote and co-produced the film. I provided outlets for my friends and their wonderful talents. I created something that I think is at the very least interested.

This will not be the only time this happens.

Now this short has me jazzed about films. I went to two film festivals this year, the San Francisco Film Festival and the Asheville Film Festival. Both were important. I've talked about how important Richard Linklater has become and how the SFFF confirmed that. The Asheville Film Festival was also important because I got to see the short films that are accepted. Were they spectacular? No, but they were accomplished because someone set them up and made them. Watching them I realized I'll be able to make shorts and that Awake is unique, valid, and can play at a film festival.

Unfortunately I believe I will fall short of my usual goal of 30 films per year. I have worked a lot, accomplished a lot, so it's inevitable. The kind of films I love, I lament, are losing steam and are being marketed to VOD instead of reasonable runs in theaters. Yet, I am content in my film year. I am writing more scripts, writing new loglines, coming up with new ideas, meeting and networking with Film Athens and others. This part of me is starting to emerge.

...

I have accomplished a lot in my Library & Information Sciences degree as well. I have completed 21 hours. I have roughly two semesters left. I have learned so much about metadata schemas, standards. I can talk MODS and MARC now.

Talking about my degree, as you can imagine with my use of acronyms, is a bit difficult. In essence what I'm doing is like the stage managing of library & information sciences. I am responsible for making sure the behind the scenes stuff run smoothly. I implement information into metadata fields that individuals can access in records. Currently I have a job where our customers (libraries) order books and I retrieve catalog records that match them. The term for this: Technical Services.

This was something I worked on in my entry level library job, but now I'm headlong into it. I can find fascination and zen in the mechanics of an operation, but there is trepidation. The courses aren't too bad online. I was concerned about the format but it works well in certain degrees, it just requires more effort to interact with students but I am successful in some respects. What I miss is people though.

All library & information science fields are service positions, but I most certainly miss actually working with people, actually engaging in face to face interactions with students or patrons. When I worked at my former company, an ISP, I interacted with several customers but it was over the phone, impersonal and so forth. At the library I worked before and most certainly at the school I had the reward and stimulation of working with people, particularly children.

I left education, a field I probably could get a job out of if I completed a MAT, because I wanted the technology stimulus that I received in library & information sciences. Yet, now in this current position, one that will aid my career, I miss the human stimulus I received in education. I miss hearing "Mr. Ben."

I talked with my professor and explained that I need to get some reference experience in and some courses, which she agreed. Next semester I intend to take a class on Children's Materials because I realized that my favorite thing to do in both fields was to read to children. I didn't choose school library media as my track, but I think I'm going to start utilizing the resources that my school offers in that regard.

...

Poetry...I got a lot done in this arena, reasonably. I haven't published a lot, but that's because I've been working on a collection.

I wrote a poem about my great-grandmother's life in the mill culture that I sent to Fred Chappell, who I saw read at the Thomas Wolfe House in Asheville. His reception was positive, as were many others. Consequently I set myself to write a collection of poems that dealt with the downfall of working class culture and mill culture where I grew up. For instance, I talk about Toccoa and what happened after the casket and furniture plants left and I have a poem about what welding is. Initially I wanted to call the series What Mills Are to allude to Philip Levine's great collection What Work Is but I wasn't going to just talk about mills. It was about working class culture in North Georgia. I bounced around with names until I found one: When That Great Ship Went Down, which comes from a folk song about the Titanic.

That has been my focus in writing poetry. I have been revising the poems, splicing them, etc. The progress made with poetry hasn't matched my progress in film and screenwriting, but I have made progress is seeing more poets read. I mention Fred Chappell, and I saw some poets at the Athens Cine. I was starstruck after seeing Jericho Brown and Kevin Young read because through an acquaintance I met former poet laureate Natasha Trethewey.

...

These Life Update blog posts are often sprawling, so if you manage to finish I thank you. Understand that my blog is about my growth. I finally renamed my blog Look Homeward, Martin after Thomas Wolfe's book. I am Eugene Gant in a way. I've written about this but it's important for all of us to reach some level of self-awareness, to own up to our issues, our faults, and our responsibilities to create a better life for ourselves. Writing this stuff down, talking about this stuff, gives life to them. It places them out in the open to reckon with.

I use this Life Updates to reflect, because reflection is important. Reflection is human. I want to give myself the life I dream about. Though I didn't step in certain doors this year, though I didn't fully accomplish everything, I maintained a productivity that ultimately led me close to happiness, to life fulfillment. I made a film, I'm close on my grad school, my job is related to my career, and I can see better things.

I won't get too sentimental.

What's next on the plate for next year?

That'll be discussed later.

Sentimentality and Defining my Personal Patriotism in D.C.

What was D.C. all about?

There's a patriotism in mind for an American interested in traveling to our nation's capital. Being in D.C. means seeing older folk that are retired and have time finally going to the capital for the first time. It's seeing military folk on leave. It's day care and elementary school children crowding the Washington Monument in t-shirts that represent their school. Later they will write an essay in their ELA course about what the monument, what Washington, what the capital meant to them. In a way, this a that kind of essay, brimming with primal sentimentality.

Visiting D.C., or the experience of being in D.C., there's a hope in the U.S. tourist (at least in me) of discovering or reaffirming national identity. A visit to D.C. from a U.S. citizen's point of view is akin to going back home for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. It's a time capsule of what may or may not make one an American, or United Statesian (because South Americans are Americans too). 

...

What led me here?

I realized, last year while in Lima, that I traveled to Buenos Aires before I went to D.C. I visited three other nation capitals and yet I had never visited mine. That was the spark.

There was more, however. I think there was a malaise about living in this country that began to settle in me. I was nostalgic for South America. It's not just that. I think a lot of people have malaise about the country. It's easy to have doubts. Everything now--from our media coverage of...everything to the new commercial idea of Black Thursdays--can create a distaste about this country and a doubtfulness as to whether or not it deserves your defense. It's hard to defend a country in a conversation with friends abroad when education budgets are sliced and diced, when apathy becomes a currency of solidarity.

Intellectually I knew I was being immature. Of course there's a greatness to this country. Of course this country is too vast for generalization. Of course if there's something bad we have the worst of it, but if there's something good we have the best of it.

This malaise existed as a visceral feeling, not an intellectual one, and it was a feeling I was having a hard time shaking off. Therefore I felt this trip would not only accomplish a life list item but maybe I could reaffirm my faith that I belonged here.

I don't know why D.C. would be that place, to possibly meet some patriotic quote that I was lacking. After all, D.C. is the hotbed of House of Cards kind of happenings. I figured I might give it a try.

Now, let's get to nuts and bolts.

...

I chose to go on this trip because I started a new job in July and unfortunately I wasn't going to be receiving vacation days for anytime soon. I did notice that we were off for Labor Day and I hatched the idea to go to D.C. on Friday evening and have the weekend to spend there.

My itinerary, which I hashed during spare moments because I love creating itineraries, basically allowed for traversing the National Mall and Arlington National Cemetary, but I also took on a cruise to Mount Vernon and I intended to visit a local D.C. neighborhood. There wasn't a huge interest in visiting all of the Smithsonians, nor was there a possibility. My primary intention was to check out the Library of Congress and the National Air and Space Museum, plus all of the memorials. 

I stayed in a hostel once more, Hostelling International. Many would shrug off the idea of a hostel given the length of time I would stay in D.C. Yet the hostel was pretty affordable and it was close to everything. 

How did I get around? Walk, mostly. A few of my friends recommended Uber which I downloaded by never used. There's a meaningful purpose to Uber. Sometimes the hip and cool places are in neighborhoods that are sketchy. That's Uber's purpose for me. I never encountered this, so I used public transit and buses. They're inexpensive and I don't personally mind being around people.

Was D.C. dirty? Nah. No worse than San Francisco. D.C. has its neighborhoods but I never went through them. A lot of people were worried that I might get around some bad areas, but D.C. has been heavily gentrified.

I will say that anytime I left early, which I always did, it was like changing of the guard for the prostitutes. Every time I walked to a transit station at 7 in the morning these ladies in cutoff shorts that were clearly prostitutes would be going home. That's an incredible work shift.

...

My first impression of D.C. was flying into Reagan National Airport, which is for national flights only. If you, my reader, ever fly to D.C. from within the U.S. you should find flights to this airport. It's on the banks of the Potomac and as I flew in at night I could look out the window and see the scale of the National Mall, from the Lincoln Memorial through the Washington Monument and Congress, as I descended. This is a sight worth having. Plus, Reagan connects with D.C.'s light rail which Dulles International doesn't.

Now I do not intend to go into detail about everywhere I went. I will only discuss transcendent moments. I will list what I did. If you want to travel with me, this is an impression of what my itinerary looked like ultimately. Brace yourselves:

Day 1--

Tour Congress

Tour Library of Congress

Eat yak, elk, and buffalo burger sliders at the Museum of the American Indian

Walk around Museum of the American Indian

National Air & Space Museum

Washington Monument

World War II Memorial

Vietnam Memorial

Lincoln Memorial

visit the White House

visit the National Archives--see Constitution, Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence

See Perfect Pussy, Joanna Gruesome, and Potty Mouth at the Rock and Roll Hotel

Day 2--

Cruise Potomac

Explore Mount Vernon

Explore Dupont Circle and check out Kramer Books

Rest

Day 3--

Arlington National Cemetery

Go home


As you can imagine, it would require too much of my writing and too much of your time to provide my impressions of each event. Instead I am going to talk about the places that induced a moment of transcendence. The two prominent places that facilitated my moments of clarity were the National Air & Space Museum and the Lincoln Memorial.

A lot of individuals have commented on the National Air & Space Museum as overblown or overrated. This is probably the most popular museum on the National Mall. It's crowded. People are everywhere. For me, however, it serves as a barometer of jadedness because HOW on earth can this places be overblown? How can you think "meh" when right as you enter there's two nuclear missiles, one Soviet and one US? How can you be underwhelmed by NASA rockets, by WW1 and WW2 planes, by the freakin' Wright Flyer? Maybe I am overzealous for aviation (or for everything) but I most certainly was not underwhelmed. I was a little kid again. 

This is what the National Air & Space Museum is: it's a museum of dreams. It's a museum of dreams, one that has the artifacts of people's sweat to accomplish their dreams. It's not just a museum of aviation but of what people can accomplish. It's the greatest argument in favor of the dignity of people. It's the greatest argument against apathy and excuses. These people built an object that went to the moon. The moon! How wonderful, how sublime is that?!

Alright, let's tone it down.

Throughout Day 1 I was sweating on my way through the National Mall. I knew I was going to finish exactly where I wanted to, the place I remember seeing at age 4 in my great-grandmother's 1964 World Book Encyclopedia.

It was no longer a black & white photograph. Lincoln means a lot to me. I've studied his speeches, read the works on him by James McPherson. 

This was not his tomb or mausoleum but it was important to see him, see his dignity and posture. As overwhelming as he was, there's a comfort his place, looking down, as if he's telling us or me "it's alright." 

I was certainly emotional, near tears. Part of that reaction was fulfilling the dream of a 4 year old who read Abe Lincoln's Hat and who was given a biography of Lincoln as a gift for undergoing surgery at age 7. There's an enormous sense of well being to dream of something, to set a goal, and to follow through. I felt that in this moment, reading the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural Address.

There was a new feeling that began to permeate. As I mention, my trip to D.C. stemmed from a malaise with U.S. culture. Yet, I knew from my readings what Lincoln put himself through to continue the struggle in order to preserve this country. I had this feeling that if he was willing to stand up, I should to. This was a patriotic feeling, but not a militaristic feeling. It was the patriotic feeling you might get with your family, where you experience the combination of tumultuous bickering and stout dedication.

The other moments were wonderful. The pure exhaustion and fun of seeing Perfect Pussy & Joanna Gruesome chug it out. The graceful beauty of Mount Vernon. The hip coolness of Dupont Circle. The sacredness of Arlington. 

Lincoln Memorial outdid them. Even though it's just a statue of a guy, it's a guy who had doubts, who suffered depression, who had uncertainties, and who plowed through because he saw something important in the soil he stood on. That's not in a military sense, but a spiritual sense, that he belonged on this ground. The Lincoln Memorial out did them all.

Although in terms of my trip that kind of sucks. It kind of sucks that I had a day and a morning left, and I already reached the climax of my trip.

I will say the National Archives were important for me as well. They were doing an exhibit on the civil rights, but there was something breathtaking about seeing the faded ink on the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. They also had a copy of the Magna Carta. I mean it's hard to elaborate in hyperbole over those. We've all had history class. We know their importance.

...

The idea that the United States is the greatest country in the world is nonsense. We need to purge that idea out of our culture. The United States isn't the greatest country in the world, and I'm not saying that in a Sorkin-esque kind of way because of The Newsroom. Anyone who reads books, anyone who travels abroad knows this fact, that the U.S. isn't the greatest country in the world.

Yet I feel like Lincoln. There's something undefined about here that leads me to believe I belong here. So I think D.C. reaffirmed that I am right. The United States isn't the greatest country, but it's my country. That's an important difference, if I may get political and stand on a soap box. Saying the United States is the greatest country means it doesn't need to change, it doesn't need to progress, that lethargy is acceptable and that's absolute nonsense. There's a reason I believe "This Land is Our Land" should be our national anthem (though I like the "Star Spangled Banner"--I'm not that much of a contrarian). By saying this is my country and our country...it acknowledges that lethargy is unacceptable.

I mean we have to take a stand and step up...

if we want National Cookie Day to be a federal holiday.

The Breakthrough

I became a writer four years ago.  Before I just wrote, but I wasn't a writer. Make sense?

There's a difference between being a writer and being someone who writes. What is that difference?

Work. 

Lots of lots of work.

Writing isn't fun for writers. Each day I come in after work and a dread sinks in. "Oh I have to write." What do I want to do? I want to watch HuluPlus or Netflix. Play guitar. Watch movies. Any form of procrastination. The Atlantic published an article about writers and procrastination which describes procrastination as a "peculiarly common occupational hazard." Oh do I ever want to procrastinate and just lay down, chill, after working 8 hours. 

Nope. I have to write. Notice the "have to." There's no choice. Everyday I have to bring up a Word document, stare at a blank white digitized page and try to figure out how to improve upon that blank white digitized page. 

I have to write something. I have to write crap, so much crap, in order to find something worthwhile. This is writing. Writing crap, so much crap. This is real writing. There's no writer's block, just scrapped writing. 

Before 2010, I wrote but it wasn't as a writer. The sparks weren't there for creativity. The discipline wasn't there for writing. I was a journalism kid, as opposed to a drama kid or a jock. I dedicated myself to the Raider's Log, my high school newspaper, as a film critic and the entertainment editor. I didn't write creatively, however. I didn't know how, or I told myself I didn't know how. 

Here's the secret to start writing: write. Write! WRITE! Write anything! 

It won't look good. Your first spurts of writing will look like drivel. No one told me that, really. Well I'm telling you that. Writing isn't magic. It may seem like that...no, no, no.

In all fairness I did try to write a bit. I wrote a poem in binary language called "Electric." I also wrote a poem that parodied the quote "Fortune Favors the Brave." There was an interest in participating in the Young Georgia Authors in 12th grade. I had an idea of a story involving a dialogue between Hamlet and Beowulf. The setting would be a graveyard of dead literary characters. Hamlet and Beowulf would be debating on how to defeat life: Hamlet's argument was life had to be defeated through deep thinking and Beowulf argued life should be defeated through force and through vigilance. 

My English teacher from 11th grade argued to me that I should write this and submit it. I never did it. I never wrote a word relating this story. I made excuses for myself. Those excuses are useless. 

There was a part of me that understood that I was going to be a writer in some capacity. In 5th grade I wrote a story about a lion who learned to talk because I gave him ritalin. I still don't believe I've topped that story, but it seeded this idea of being a writer, but a crippling self-consciousness and sense of failure let me to prevent myself from writing. 

A crippling self-consciousness and a sense of failure are useless excuses. 

What was my breakthrough, then? What happened four years ago that led me to become a writer?

When I got in college I didn't major in English or any related field...at first. I majored in Biology. That's right. I wanted to be a neurologist because I wanted to make money and I thought it was legitimately fascinating. I still love science and biology. Taking Theatre Appreciation, however, led me to realize that I couldn't forgive myself for continuing this field. I saw a production of Stephen Massicotte's Mary's Wedding at my college and I realized I had to make this. I had to somehow live up to my dreams in high school, in middle school, and commit to creating something. 

Writing was always something I could do but in a more academic sense. I certainly displayed an acumen for writing essays and academic papers. That wasn't my interest, ultimately. I didn't want a PhD. in Comparative Literature (which is a fine field, by the way). I wanted to have poems published, to write scripts that I can turn into movies. 

Therefore I changed my major to Theatre. I was going to commit to creating something. At first I was a slow starter but I realized that I owed myself something. Theatre was great because there are no closets to hide one's art. It has to be put in front of an audience. What I created, in any artistic capacity, had to be put on a stage. I had to put up or shut up. 

At the same time I took a Creative Writing class with Dorothy Blais. This was my start. I engaged in writing and came to terms with my love of poetry and dialogue. It was a start, but I wasn't a writer. I wrote in spurts and writing in spurts doesn't make one a writer. I wrote a handful of short stories and some poems. It was escalating to me becoming a writer, no doubt. When I was an assistant stage manager for Sarah Ruhl's Eurydice I had very few backstage duties so I kept a notebook and I wrote poems. I tried to combine a poem by James Galvin with the war poetry of Wilfred Owen to compare a marriage falling apart to war. 

Ultiamtely these were only first drafts, which I would leave behind, and exclusively writing first drafts isn't what a writer does. 

My theatre program required a capstone project and initially I aspired to direct a play as I wanted to direct films. It made sense...but no one wanted to collaborate with me because I had no experience directing. After stressing out to the point of having dreams of my hair falling out I realized that if I take Advanced Directing, I'll be directing a one act play. So why not use this opportunity to write a play like I always wanted? Dorothy Blais, my creative writing professor was also a playwright. She become my mentor and I began working on a play.

This was my breakthrough because this was when I began developing the discipline and process of writing. I wrote a play entitled The Five Stages of Baldness that would have a staged reading. 

This was my breakthrough. I didn't write in spurts. I wrote everyday. I wrote five drafts. I would reread my script and try to figure out how to solve an issue. This scene isn't working because the protagonist appears mean in how he interacts with this girls and the audience needs to root for him. What if the protagonist doesn't win the argument? What if the girls outdo him and outsmart him? I would conceive of possible solutions in a journal and translate them into dialogue or a scene.

I had the staged reading and it received a positive reaction. 

Applause is addictive. 

Writing happens through attrition, like Grant and Lee in the Battle of the Wilderness kind of attrition. Writing requires writing everyday, or writing the majority of the week. It means that no matter how busy one is there is an increment of room to write in one's day. An individual doesn't need a MFA to write because one works so hard and being in a writing program is the only way one can possibly write. I work 40-44 hours a day. I come home everyday and I bring up that Word Document and I have to write at least one page. It may be on a project I'm working on like a script or a poem. It may be a journal on how to solve something in a project. It may be academic or a blog post. I have to write at least one page. It doesn't take just a handful of time to write one page. 

Through The Five Stages of Baldness I reached the breakthrough I needed. I reached that point of realizing that writing is work, it's labor. Just like learning a riff on guitar requires being off time at first, or slow builds, writing requires steady steps and wasted papers or documents. It requires revision. Writing isn't typing or the physical act of picking up a pen and writing words. Writing, true writing, is sculpting. It's placing gestated thoughts on a document that serves as a mold of marble and figuring out how to whittle it down into something meaningful. It's about design, plotlines, loglines, journal work. Writing is a desktop folder filled endlessly with supplementary work on characters, dialogue, documents labeled "draft 01/06/2013." 

That's writing. That's the breakthrough anyone reading this requires as a writer. One needs to find a moment, write a page, and work. One has to put the work in. That's the breakthrough. 

Midnight in the Garden of Homeless and Hippies: My 2 Days in San Francisco

"One day if I do go to heaven I'll look around and say, 'It ain't bad, but it ain't San Francisco."-Herb Caen 

Oh really, Herb? 

He's not the only one who thinks this, however. There's something about what Caen and others have seen in San Francisco that induces romanticism and other such sentimental notions. Just saying the city's name aloud, "San Francisco," conjures up wondrous images in the minds of many beholders of the Victorian painted houses (Painted Ladies) lining up streets that move up hills towards the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay. 

These images are invoked by many I have met, individuals who draw upon these images from their incessant viewings of Vertigo or Full House, commercials of Rice A Roni, and writings by the Beats.  Travel guides try to validate this romanticism, dripping in smugness as they describe how "good times and social revolutions tend to start here" (Lonely Planet) or they use buzzwords like "funky," "bohemian," "indie," and sustainable." 

The buzzwords I'd like to add to the conversation of San Francisco are "grungy," "filthy," and "overbloated." 




And I actually liked my trip!

..

When it comes to cities...we all have our patron city. There's a city that represents or contains the elements of existence we love. For me there are two cities in the US that do this: Atlanta ie my home state's city (which I consider my mother city), and Chicago, which has a culture that's custom tailored for me. Then why bother with San Francisco at all? 

Well, why not? Why not get slightly out of my comfort zone of collards.

I love my country and while most of what I love about the country isn't urban I do have a list of sorts of cities that I want to see in the country. San Francisco is one of them. For me, San Francisco is the definitive Pacific Coast city. 

Much like my previous travel posts (for South America) this post will be decidedly more narrative and chronological than a cut and paste article with "top 5 lists." This is San Francisco through my two eyes in the two days I had there.

...

The true catalyst of going to San Francisco involved me noticing I had money to spare!

More importantly it involved me noticing a detail about the San Francisco International Film Festival. 

One of my principal goals of this year was to go to more film festivals. The SIFF was going on in late April and May and was showing a film that I was quite keen on seeing: Boyhood. Richard Linklater has become one of my favorite film directors and his new film promised more of his experimental style by showcasing the work of 12 years, with each year that was filmed showing one year in the growth of a boy. There's been nothing but praise for the feature and Linklater himself was going to be there to accept a Founders Director Award from the festival and participate in a Q&A. 

Now let me make this clear: I did not spend money just to go to a city just to see a Q&A. This was the catalyst or excuse to see a city on my USA city list and to wind down after my first semester in graduate school as well as shooting a short film. 

Due to job obligations, however, I couldn't commit myself to a week or four days to truly unravel the city or area. Instead, I could spare two days. 

This trip was reasonably planned. It had to be. I was there for two days only. Two days is barely long enough to truly experience a place unless one has true plans and sticks with them.

My trip was to be in two parts: seeing the city and seeing the natural areas around the bay. As I mentioned, I'm more of a trekker and an eco-tourist. My intention was to spend a bit of time exploring the neighborhoods of San Francisco Friday and Saturday evening, and to use Saturday morning and afternoon as an opportunity to check out Point Reyes National Seashore and Muir Woods. 

Whenever I visit a city I tend to create a travel itinerary based around the neighborhoods of a city. So aside from the nature trekking I planned on checking out Chinatown, Castro, Mission, North Beach, and Civic Center. Fisherman's Wharf, Pacific Heights, and SoMa were in the back of my head...but really they couldn't happen.

Did I get to do all this? 

..

Friday, the plan was to get settled in, explore Chinatown and make my way to Castro where Boyhood would be showing. 

Renting a car amplified my absent-mindedness (it wasn't something I had done before) but I got out of the parking garage (after 10-15 minutes) and made my way through South San Francisco and into San Francisco's Embarcadero blaring The Ramones. That bit was quite nice. The car was nice and was fuel efficient for my trip into the North Bay the next day. The bay is truly remarkable. Even in glances it was easy to be threadbare by the bay and by the Pacific. 

My hostel was in North Beach, which is a neighborhood that shares a boundary with Chinatown. This was primarily an Italian immigrant area (a "Little Italy") that was home for the Beats and gentleman's clubs (Larry Flynt's Hustlers Club is there). It's a safe neighborhood by San Francisco standards, which isn't everyone's standard. 

During the day it contains the usual artifacts of San Francisco: endless hills, painted Victorian homes, the wind of the bay pushing in. It's a good gateway to Fisherman's Wharf, Chinatown, and for my Friday, Telegraph Hill. 

Hiking up the stairs to Telegraph Hill one of the first sights was a homeless man unzipping and peeing on the wall of one of those painted Victorian homes. This, too, was a usual artifact of San Francisco. 

Let's be honest about San Francisco, because this trek up Telegraph Hill presented me with my first awareness of SF's reality. Per my title and per my introduction, San Francisco may be one of the grungiest cities I've ever been to. In all the areas I explored, from Civic Center to Mission, the neighborhoods were full of litter and full of homeless people. You, my reader, may say "There's homeless everywhere" or "You, Martin, haven't been to such and such." I have seen plenty of homeless people but this was not a USA scale. It was a Buenos Aires scale of homeless. In his wonderfully honest article, "5 Reasons San Francisco is the Worst Awesome City in America," Adam Tod Brown points this out, saying "if there was an official city scent, it would be hobo piss." 

Ultimately this view of homeless urination slowly succumbed to the view of the city while making my way into higher and higher elevation. Looking forward I could see the city skyline unfold with the Transamerica Pyramid and endless amounts of 1970's skyscrapers that occupy Downtown. To my side I could see the "fabulous white city" Kerouac spoke of, with the North Beach cathedrals standing in the fading sunlight. Once on top of Telegraph Hill I got some glances and pictures of Coit Tower until I saw an image that hobo piss couldn't ruin: the Bay. 

Geography can define how beautiful or how ugly a city is. For all the flaws of Atlanta I'm enamored by how the city is consumed into forest. For Chicago, I never considered Lake Michigan and how lovely it was until I visited there. 

San Francisco drew me to the city because of this geography. Standing on top of the walls surround Coit Tower I could view the majesty of the bay, with the grey shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge on my left and the endless trees lining the banks of the North Bay. 

Broadway in San Francisco was where Chinatown and North Beach melded together. I decided to save a truly in depth approach of North Beach until Saturday. Friday afternoon I decided to focus on Chinatown and walk through the neighborhood on the way to Castro. 

There's something surreal about Chinatown. Dim sum joints and bbq's lined the streets. I ate at a mom and pop place, taking in squid with greens on rice. It was ok. Lanterns lined overheard and pagoda roofs were on every building including banks. All the shops were catered for tourists, with "homemade" scarfs and "I Heart SF" shirts. I went down Bush so that I could walk through the Chinatown Gate. The trek into Chinatown wasn't exceptionally eventful except to see how different it was from any neighborhood I'd truly been to.

At this point I took the MUNI to Castro. Regardless of my complaints on San Francisco's grimy exterior I can't deny that the city is endlessly walkable and accessible. The MUNI, the local transit, and BART, which is the Bay Area's transit, are cheap ($2 for a trip) and they get a person anywhere. 

Castro ended up being a neighborhood I didn't truly explore except down the  actual Castro St. Rainbow flags lined the streets, with the best one being the California flag having rainbows on the bottom. I grabbed my tickets for the Q&A and tried to find a place to eat. The guy at the ticket booth recommended La Taqueria, but I abstained for Rossi's Delicatessen. I grabbed a hot pastrami sandwich on a sweet roll and ate half, while giving the other half to a homeless guy who needed food (I wasn't going to be able to finish it, regardless). 

Boyhood was shown at the Castro Theatre, this movie palace in the vein of the Fox Theatre (Atlanta) or the Paramount Theatre (Austin). Gold and velvet lined up the place, as I grabbed a seat and took in the q&a and retrospective of Linklater, moderated by none other than Parker Posey.

Linklater has an aura for me. His scripts, like mine, are devoid of Save the Cat stylistics and work hard to engage an audience and be true to life. Before I left I watched Before Sunrise and Before Sunset which may be the most romantic films I've ever seen. More importantly, he just made films and he made them in his hometown, like I want to. Seeing him receive a Founder's Director Award and seeing how he made a career out of doing a passion was truly inspirational.

So day 1 wasn't too shabby, minus the hobo piss. 

...

Day 2 began at 6:30 AM (as in I woke up), and truly began on 7AM when I picked up my car. That morning into afternoon was truly magnificent.

At 7AM I began a journey into the North Bay, to check out Chimney Rock at Point Reyes and Muir Woods. 

There was an auspicious start to this drive. To make it across into the North Bay and chug into Marin County, I had to drive over the Golden Gate Bridge. From Telegraph Hill I could glance at the grey hue of Golden Gate in the distance but I knew I was going to see it closer that next day. 

San Francisco, like any city, is flawed. It's not as nearly as majestic in most neighborhoods...but Golden Gate...

Seeing Golden Gate in person...it's staggering. There was a point where Lombard turned into 101 N and the bridge blazed into my sight. Standing at the heights of Willis Tower or on top of Machu Picchu: these are the only moments whose radiance compare to Golden Gate. I listened to Tycho's Dive and took into the bridge, flushed in awe.

Alright, enough hyperbole.

One key note about Golden Gate: it requires a toll. Not only that, tolls cannot be paid with cash or card. They have to be prepaid and THEY will know if you are paid off or not by your car tag. I know...

Once I got into Marin County my spirits lifted. I got off 101 N and onto Francis Drake Boulevard where I just drove into Marin and the rural hamlets and towns within the area until I landed in Point Reyes. At this moment my phone's 4G coverage dwindled so I grabbed a map of where I needed to go at the Point Reyes Seashore station and continued onward until I got into Chimney Rock. Between the station and Chimney I was breathless as I drove slowly due to the painfully bumpy roads. This was 8:30, maybe 9 in the morning. No one was on the roads. I would just drive by landscapes of beautiful beaches and pull over, grab a shot and keep driving. The road was beside protected cattle ranches and some of the cattle would be walking on the road. 

Chimney Rock was quiet. No one was there except two other ladies. The cliffs soared but the trek was mild. It wasn't as nearly was complicated or long as I expected. Looking towards the cliffs and looking out into the Pacific was transcendent, however. With the seals overlook, I could see endless amounts of seals climbing onto the beach, swimming and playing with each other, sleeping. 

The drive wasn't too bad but the way back was both exhausting and lustrous. The way back, once I got 4G back and running involved taking California Route 1, this Pacific highway that hugs the coast and gentle hills. The road ebbed with the beach, going up and down cliffs, with bikers on the roads and individuals pulling over like me and taking snapshots of the shore.

By this time I was tired, however, and once I saw how crowded Muir Woods was, I had my doubts. Part of me said "Don't worry about it. You've seen enough." Then part of me, thankfully, said "C'mon. It's the redwoods. Just take a walk so you can say you've seen the redwoods."

I saw paradise. 

There are no words that can prepare one for the redwoods. I won't attempt to describe how large and wonderful they are. I mean it's freakin' Endor. I naively asked the ticket taker when I would see the redwoods and she said as soon as I walked in. She was right. Outside the sun was shining heavy, with fierce temperatures. Inside Muir Woods the light became trickles as the canopy snugged us inside from the sun. 

Granted, I'm a tree lover, but I saw myself at Shangri-La while inside Muir Woods. 

This was a good morning and at Muir Woods I finally got food and started back to continue the trek around San Francisco.

Could SF follow this morning's lead?

SPOILER ALERT: no.

...

Why couldn't SF lead up to that? 

One, I was exhausted. I needed relaxation...but nope. I needed to try and see the other neighborhoods.

Two, my planned trip to go to Alcatraz was ultimately thwarted by the fact that it was sold out. Consequently I had no evening plans and I wasn't sure what else to do.

I knew I wanted a San Francisco style burrito and I wanted to check out Mission...so I took BART to Mission. Mission is a neighborhood that has been traditionally home to the Latin American community of San Francisco. While there I landed on 17th Street and took up with El Castillito to eat one of their al pastor burritos. Chipotle's burrito is a happy meal compared to how absolutely massive this burrito was. Seriously. It was absolutely huge...and I couldn't finish it. The tortilla was grilled instead of steamed, so it was prone to falling apart. The burrito was quite good but I couldn't continue sitting in that restaurant with no air conditioning. I had to move and I walked around Valencia and landed at Mission Dolores, the oldest building in San Francisco dating back to the 1700s by monks who settled there. It was nice but I can't go into hyperbole about it or the area. Like most of the neighborhoods, in the midst of the blistering sun, it was hard to breathe. The landscape was...too urban, even for me. There were green spaces but not as much as I saw in my travelling.

Because I believe in libraries (as an aspiring librarian) I try to visit at least one library in anywhere I travel to. The main branch of the library was in the Civic Center. Taking BART there, as soon as I got off I could feel the edge. Despite being the home of the city political forces, the Civic Center closely approaches the Tenderloin, SF's seedy district. So Civic Center also has the edge and getting off BART one is bombarded by homeless. Homeless people were everywhere. The poor souls. 

Truly, these individuals who have no homes chose San Francisco because of the climate and because San Francisco is so laid back that many homeless are reasonably welcomed. In Los Angeles, many of the homeless suffered harassment by the gangs of the area. It's hard to walk a block without two or three homeless individuals. Walking out of the library to the BART station I heard a homeless person arguing with his girlfriend...to himself (no girl was present) and as soon as I got back into North Beach a homeless person argued with this woman on her cell phone in a violent, yelling kind of way. Through the night, my sleep would be disturbed by arguments outside my hostel. This was San Francisco, too, as it is in any city, but not even Atlanta or Chicago can compare homelessness and grubbiness to San Francisco. 

The Port of San Francisco was less cruddy, but the area was also incredibly touristy with upscale restaurants lining up the area as little kids walked around and used the outdoor facilities of the Exploratorium. This swankiness was too much for me to handle so I went to begin my exploration of North Beach that I would carry into the afternoon. Mainly I wanted to grab a book so I went into City Lights Bookstore, a place started by Beat poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti. They had a place in the bookstore just for poetry and one could just sit down and read poetry. 

With that I began a mild period of relaxation and a period of planning on how to cap my night. I knew I would leave earlier than expected. My flight was at 6AM and my parking garage closed at 2AM. My plan was to leave SF behind around 11PM and check out of my hostel. 

After grabbing dinner at Cafe Zoetrope, a place in the same building as Francis Ford Coppola's American Zoetrope Studios (the Sentinel Building) I walked around Broadway in North Beach at night. Broadway at night was lights on for bars and gentleman's clubs, as promoters tried to induce me to walk in. I had a mission however: The Saloon.

The Saloon promotes itself as the first saloon in SF. It's also a blues club and that night was I feeling like blues or jazz. My original idea was to get into the Jazz at Pearl's Club, which closed down. This was another negative blight on San Francisco. So many places that built up the culture of San Francisco were closed down because they couldn't afford rent or because they needed severe repairs due to poor infrastructure. 

The Saloon was really a dive bar. The doorman was this older guy in white sneakers who required a $5 cover charge and would dot three black marks on the arm. He was dealing with a homeless guy who had bootleg DVD's throughout the evening. The bar was primarily a place for older locals, people coming in dressed in loose clothing and getting cocktails by this hippie who never left '67. The band was The Jukes and I saw their schedule: 9:30PM to 1:30AM. Holy crap! That's a Springsteen gig. Younger people were there and when the band started I stood back until I saw all the older (and young) people getting into the music. Imagine drunken and lonely people letting everything they have in the world loose for one day and just dancing to redundant 12 bar blues. It's both sad and lovely at the same time and I eventually got to twisting and dancing with those older (and younger, attractive ladies). 

At 11PM I set out and grabbed my car, spent a manic hour getting out of the city as Google Maps went a bit haywire and got into the airport, relieved and got to Denver and eventually back to Atlanta. 
...

San Francisco is the right city for a lot of people, but it's not my city. If I can compare the city to another it wouldn't be Milan or Paris, as the yuppies of  South Park's "Smug Alert" did, but with Buenos Aires. Like Buenos Aires, there's a ragged beauty to the city and its freedom. There's a smugness and conceitedness that can be easily drowned out by the grace of the North Bay and the Pacific Ocean.

I wish I had a longer time to stay, but I don't know how much of that time I would've used for San Francisco. It would probably go towards Yosemite or more trekking. No less, it is always a better idea to take in one place within a larger span of days than to plan to speed a weekend that far away and in a city that large. 

That being said, I don't regret the trip. Bad trips can validate how much you love home or another area or provide perspective, but this wasn't a bad trip. I found plenty of rewards as you, my reader, can tell in the hyperbole in describing the North Bay and even the pleasure of The Saloon's slobby blues band.

Will I go back? For the city, no. The Bay and the rural outskirts of California...I do already miss them. Anyone who lives in the U.S. should visit the city, however, at least once in his or her life. 

...

Bonus Note: 

Allow me to whine a bit and complain about Frontier. 

Do not use Frontier Airlines if you can help it. Sometimes the cost for this airline is just cheaper for going into the Mountain states, but Frontier is not an airline I intend to use again.

Granted, my beef with them has roots in relative deprivation but what I thought was a cheap flight was reasonable and Frontier did a lot that really wasn't becoming of their airline compared to others.

Things Frontier did:

1) They charged $35 for EACH flight for carry-on's. Normally most airlines like Delta and AirTran allow one carry-on and one personal item. Not for Frontier. 

2) In-flight entertainment cost $5.99.

3) Food was charged. 

Most of the Frontier representatives were rude and it's not worth the layover in Denver. Don't fly Frontier. 

Life Update and Such Spring 2014

It's been ages.

I haven't had time to write down a thought or two on my blog. It's been awhile. I've been too busy but I need to write something today. I'll explain.

CATCHING UP

During the course of the week I place emphasis on writing at least one page everyday. Typically this means writing a script, but I also include poetry in this parameter. Lately that one page is exclusive to...graduate school.

It's a bit fitting that I'm finally bringing forth a life update. In my previous life update I discuss the possibilities for this year and mention beginning graduate school for the Master's of Library & Information Science. Between the job and the degree it's been tough. This past month I've been catching up.

Now for May I have to play catch up on a couple of scripts I've been working on. I'm still working on a full-length about the young men who try to rob their grandmother. Unfortunately, due to a constraint with another project I wasn't able to submit it to the Nicholls Fellowship, but that's ok. I'll explain later, The other script, the pilot script, is next in "needs to get completely finished." I'm still aiming for the Austin Film Festival's TV Pilot Script competition. It'll be submitted in reasonable condition, I think.

The issue with these scripts has been moving forward. I'm now able to move forward on the pilot script because I had a reading and the challenges came full force. With moving forward on that script. there's also been work on developing something new. I'd like to have another full length by the end of the year. There's an idea brewing, but I won't discuss it.

One of the main reasons the scripts have fallen behind has been my undertaking of a short film as a directing project. Currently, the project remains without a definitive title, though "Shell Shock" is the closest thing I have to a decently descriptive and not mercilessly pretentious title. The project details a child's nightmare and has been in the works for nearly a year. Through my collaboration the project came to fruition in a way that I felt was truly necessary to grow as a director.

It exhausted me.

For two months my spare time was less concerned with grad school and more concerned with the project. The project required my financial resources, planning, gathering of personnel, location scouting, etc.

It was worth it.

Currently, we're standing with a rough cut. Our hope is that once the cut is color graded and has sound, we can get some outside voice to provide input and move on from there. The deadline I set for the project is June 28th, but that is a deadline meaning "we don't touch this project after June 28th."

Between my initial love of cinema, at the age 14, until now, I've worked on film projects. Many of those projects were in supporting roles such as sound, grips, P.A. work, etc.  Other projects involved me as the director, but they were primarily short changed and consequently it's hard for me to see where to go in terms of development. For this project I felt I was fully a director and stepped into that role in a leadership capacity and not just dickin' around. It's a good feeling and I think I can continue on my path of creating one act shorts if not other work.

P.S.

Another one of my poems, "Six Months Since Valparaiso," was published. The road to stardom continues.

TRAVELLING

One of the benefits of my new position has been the expenditures I am now blessed with. With said expenditures, I am travelling again.

For my birthday I was able to make it to Savannah, which I haven't seen in well over 15 years. Savannah remains the kind of city that can rekindle a love of the South.

One of the primary reasons I'm steadfast in avoiding the coastal plain is the substantial lack of trees that I perceive in the region, reinforced by travelling through. In all actuality travelling through Route 1 and 17 -S may be one of the most depressing road trips possible. Savannah, however, was most dazzling in the sleepy  Spanish moss that crowds over city streets leading into Bonaventure and to Sisters of the New South. The ability to work in that splendor was a nice reprieve and proof of how wonderful Georgia is...at least for me...and I'm biased.

For many in Georgia my next adventure may as well be a foreign country: San Francisco.

As I write now, I am planning a two day trip to San Francisco. This trip arose as a bit of an impulse. One of my priorities this year was travelling West and as a tree lover the Muir Woods and Redwoods of Bay Area and Northern California have been ideal for my next travels. Really, however, it was my interest of going to a film festival that delivered the idea home. "Boyhood," the new film by one of my favorite film directors Richard Linklater, will be shown at the San Francisco Film Festival with a Q&A for the director. I thought, "Why not spend two days in San Francisco?"

My main priorities are to check out the sites in Golden Gate Park, but truly one of my primary interests is in trekking a bit in Muir Woods and Point Reyes National Seashore. For the first time I aim to actually rent a car to do so. I always felt guilty that the first time I saw the Pacific was in Chile, so I aim to at least see the Pacific in the United States now.

BITTER

I realized I was in love after all.

I didn't understand love and I still don't. It's too foreign of a feeling for me, a socially awkward individual whose luck with women has been sparse.

In my post on Buenos Aires, I mentioned my deep friendship with P (I shall not go into her name). We both felt a connection that deserved a second chance.

After trying to date, after thinking a long distance relationship couldn't work, I realized it could. I realized I should be with P. She had seemed pensive about this boyfriend. He often degraded her, forcing her to send pictures of her weekend outings with friends out of jealousy.

I was prepared to place an offer on the table, that I would come to Buenos Aires again and that she could come to the United States.

Before that offer could come out of hands as I typed...she revealed her pregnancy.

That was it. I imagine a "Love in the Time of Cholera" situation. I imagine I will find someone new.

That is all I care to say

and I will leave this post on that.

Plans for 2014

"These are not resolutions."

I wanted to start my post like that. Well, my post does start with this, but I wanted to not use quotation marks.

These are resolutions, though.

The term goal seemed to be better suited for the topic I was to write about: my plans for 2014. "Resolution" has grown on me, however, as the word is stronger than goal. Goals are permeable but resolution has a firmness that I like. Now, resolution will be the apt word.

"Resolution" is a stigmatized representative of hopeful objectives that many people consecrate at the beginning of the year. Due to this stigma, many people reject resolutions as sentimental, corny, asinine, and ridiculous out of cynicism and self-deprecation. Self-improvement is seen as sentimental by those bitter and pessimistic, but I believe in self-improvement. Admittedly, I am an individual committed to self-improvement in the most...unsentimental...way possible.

People fail to realize that a resolution is undeserving of any stigma. It is not a resolution's fault that it often is left behind. A resolution requires patience, work, tactics, and determination.

All of these elements necessary for a resolution's accomplishment were learned upon me by being a theatre major oddly enough. A professor of mine would start us in some career minded classes by writing down our life goals. For him, writing down an idea creates a permanence. I agree, especially as a writer. Writing something down (or typing them in this case) creates life out of that something. It's the true birth of an idea, allowing the idea to walk upright.

I write down my resolutions, my plans for 2014, in order to give them a tangible existence. Sharing them online through this blog enhances the existence of these goals, and therefore the initiative to accomplish them.

That's the objective of this post.

Perhaps that's waxing too poetic. Really, I just want to write down my goals so I can look at them to know where I should be (ie prepare for self-indulgence).

...


There's the 30 List. I've mentioned the 30 List previously in my South American posts. The 30 List was created out of watching How I Met Your Mother and the episode "Murtaugh List." My desires and goals, the idea of where I would like to be in the most basic form by the age of 30, is contained in the 30 List.

If something on the 30 List becomes possible in any given moment or year...it needs to happen. For example, if My Bloody Valentine by some chance in hell tours somewhere in the Southeast...it needs to happen.

Namely my 30 List deals with one of my primary objectives in my twenties: travelling. Last year I tackled Machu Picchu off my list. That's one of 7. I have in the remainder: "touch Stonehenge" (UK), go to Canada and Mexico, visit Grand Canyon, see the Yunnan province (China), see Mt. Fuji and Cherry Blossoms (Japan) and to see the Mediterranean Sea (preferably through Spain). I've replaced visiting the Pyramids of Giza due to the political situation in Egypt (plus it could be placed under the Mediterranean Sea goal) with the Yunnan province. This list represents the very basic, the 101 of my travel interests: the essentials, the nations I've held lifelong fixation and passions for due to my interest in their cultural wealth (art, films, food, etc) and their ideal trekking opportunities.

What's next on that list? More than likely, the next option will be something basic. The opportunity to backpack for an extended period of time will be limited, which is fine. There's a lot of changing/shifting to commence early in the year, so finances and time will be limited until later in the year.

For the next two years I really wanted stay local, which means primarily focusing on North America and/or the British Isles. This year I should be able to take care of the Grand Canyon. How? I think if I can plan this for September/October, it's something that is best for weather. What I want to do is combine the Grand Canyon in a trip involving California. I think if I can fly round-trip to Las Vegas or Los Angeles I can see the Grand Canyon, see San Francisco, as well as Yosemite and Carmel-by-the-Sea, and do as much trekking as I can get my hands on.

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I also have, in conjunction with several goals off the 30 List, created a document called Phase 2. When I graduated college I had Phase 1. This involved exploring other work opportunities outside theatre, figuring out what I should get a graduate degree in, backpacking, and writing. I thought I would start graduate school in August and be moved out by then, but the problem with Phase 1 was a lack of discipline because they were festering ideas more than a coherent set of written goals.

Phase 2 has been written down and it delineates my next two years. I broke down my phase into 4 essential goals. The BIG one is moving out, something that I will be able to do with the new job I will begin on Monday, actually. This job will enable me to develop a substantial income to move out with a relative amount of stability. In my original Phase 2 treatise, I set February 2014 as a deadline to move out. I think that's practical and feasible, with the second week of February as an ideal time.

The second one is to gain my Master's of Library & Information Science. I begin that in two weeks. I'm going to try with 9 hours in one semester and see how difficult it is, and whether I need to scale back or not. I want to get my Master's of Library & Information Science by December, 2015. This is a reasonable goal and so far seems to be going well. How successful I am with this degree will depend on internships and projects I can accomplish. Right now, because of the job, I am limited in the ability for working with internships. Therefore I have started volunteering with the Clarkesville Library where I aim to help with collection development and also with the Genealogy Heritage Room. I want to digitize some of the microfiche we have to create a database for retrieving specific documents in ancestral searches. This would involve learning about digitizing microfiche, creating databases, and software development. I am hoping that next year I can look into a great internship opportunity, but I will look for others that I can work around.

The third part of Phase 2 is continuing to make short films and write. This one will take more importance this year. Last year I was prepared to commence on a short film but unfortunately it took a dip as I had my trip to focus on. This year, I intend to be more steadfast in setting my course in filmmaking and writing. Right now I have a draft for a full-length screenplay. It's rough, but I can revise it during January and February to prepare it for the Nicholls Fellowship, but also I will submit it to any screenplay submissions. My hope is to have a demo reel of four directed short films by 2016, as well as three full-length screenplays. I think for 2014 I can write at least two full-length scripts. Plus I want to revise my pilot script to submit to the Austin Film Festival.

Speaking of film festivals, a piece of that third part is going to more film festivals. I've already put myself on an email list for volunteer opportunities for the Atlanta Film Festival. The big one for me will be the Austin Film Festival. I hope to be able to attend at least a weekend of the Austin FF. It would be great to also go to the South by Southwest Film Festival, but another festival that I want to submit something for is ATHFest.

The last part of Phase 2 involves saving up money for travelling and moving away from Georgia. This is really for the latter part of Phase 2, so not so much this year. Part of travelling West, however, is taking into consideration where I can move. My 30 List details how I need to live somewhere outside Georgia to get perspective on whether or not I want to settle there. California is on my list of places I wouldn't mind living, alongside Austin.

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Trying to live up to Phase 2 and the 30 List will make 2014 a busy year.. Hell yeah...I think.