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Blog started in Jan 2005: 1st entries for Write in Every Genre. Then the REAL ME begins |
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It Hurts When I Stop Talking Sometime in Fall of 1998, when a visit from Dad was infrequent, and primarily at the mercy of his 88 Toyota making the 50 mile journey, I was being treated to lunch. The restaurant was my choice, I think. Sisley Italian Kitchen at the Town Center mall was somewhere my dad had not yet tried, so that was my pick. Either I was being treated to the luxury of lunch and adult conversation without my husband and 5 year old son in tow, or that's just how the moment has lodged in my memory. The more I think about it, they probably were there, but enjoying the Italian food too much to bother interrupting. Daddy and his lady friend at the time, Anne, came up together and made a day of it with me and the family. We were eating together and talking about some of my scripts, stories, coverages, poems and other creative attempts that really were not seeing the light of day. I think I'd just finished a group reading of The Artist's Way and was in a terribly frenetic mood over my writing. I think I'd just given them an entire rundown on a speculative Star Trek script. My Dad asked me point blank, “Why don’t you write it?? Anne agreed. It sure sounded like I wanted to write it. Why wasn't I writing seriously? It's what I'd set out to do when earning my college degree in Broadcasting many years earlier. Heck, I should, I agreed non-verbally. “I will.” But, I didn’t. Blogs can be wild, unpredictable storehouses of moments, tangents, creative dervishes, if you will. I'm getting a firmer handle on my creative cycle. My mental compost heap (which is a catch phrase from Natalie Goldman or Julia Cameron - I can't think which, right now) finally seems to be allowing a fairly regular seepage of by-products. That may be a gross analogy, but I give myself credit to categorize my work in raw terms. It proves that I'm not so much the procrastinating perfectionist that I once was. Still, I always seem to need prompts and motivation. Being a self-starter is the next step. My attempt to keep up in the Write in Every Genre Contest at the beginning of the year seemed like a perfect point to launch the blog. |
| I just watched the video recording of the 40th Annual Media Access Awards. It has been professionally produced like other Hollywood award shows over the last 4-5 years or so. I was a paid office worker involved with that group in 1990. Then it was groundbreaking for us to have the Casting Society of America and Variety and Hollywood Reporter involved. Now, to their credit, they have all the unions involved. It has been a good year for inclusion. It is such an odd realization that I do not always remember people's names. I have historically been better than my spouse at recalling folk's names, but now, even for the life stories I tell... there begins to be slight drop outs in information. I recall that on the first day of my job with the Media Access Office, I negotiated/accepted a donation from someone of note. And yet, I no longer am sure who it was a spoke to on the phone that day. If I had the financial books to look back on, I could confirm it. My stab in the dark tells me: Loreen Arbus. I have a near-photographic memory, but it too is not perfect. I can see Loreen Arbus' name printed on a standard blue bank check -- so is that a weird thing to remember? of this not remembering, I guess it is frustrating, because I do clearly remember receiving a $200 dollar check the next year from Cindy Costner (Kevin Costner's wife at the time. See, I can remember the amount, and I know it is correct.Yvonne was new as the Office Manager in that Wells Forgo property on Ventura Blvd., Encino. |
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