Everyday Goddess

Just lookin' for my one chance to run.

My annual rejection letter from the ABC/DGA program usually comes in November.  I also applied for an NBC program a few months ago and am supposed to hear about that first week of December.  And I realized that it is possible that I could receive notification of rejection from both programs on the same day.  In honor of that which could but has not happened yet (both good and bad), I give you:

My Most Fabulous 2007

After a wonderful New Year's full of good friends and romance, I began my 12-week fellowship at NBC.  Shadowing directors on NBC shows was, of course, great and educational.  I made solid contacts at various shows and definitely began to build relationships.  It felt great to be on set again, learning my craft.

I had planned to try office temp agencies immediately following my participation in the program, since I can not afford to be unemployed for even a few days, however, I auditioned for "On The Lot" in March and next thing you know, I'm on the show!  The timing couldn't have been better.  Right from NBC fellowship to reality television.

On The Lot was an awesome challenge, and I met tons of cool people and had so much fun!  The kind of fun you can only get on set under intense pressure - total rock.  Just an amazing life experience.  I signed with my agent about halfway through the show.

Did I win?  Sorry, no spoilers here!

Soon after, I was taking meetings all over town.  Signed to direct a romantic comedy which I started prepping in late fall for a January 2008 shoot, and most awesome, before that film work started, I was able to direct a couple one-hour episodic television shows.  Again with the challenges and the set fun.

Plus, two episodes at DGA minimum was a huge, huge raise over what I made in 2006.  Add that to the NBC fellowship and my feature money, and I was able to buy a reliable car and pay off most of my debt.  Not to mention the most awesome life change in my schedule.  No more day job, WOOHOO!

I've been able to cook more, work on my drawing, and prep my Desert Storm film short.  I've started a savings account for that project.  Suddenly, when I'm not working I'm free to think about film and television projects.  I'm still blogging, but only at my personal blog and not as often.  Oh, and I've started writing a screenplay.  It's really amazing how much more time you have when it's arranged in focused clumps.

They say it will wear off, but I'm just so damn happy to be on set that nothing shakes my focus and determination.  I consider buying a shirt that says, "Thank you, sir, May I have another?."  Producers can't sweat me; DPs love me.  Working with actors continues to be my favorite part of my job.

My job.  As a working director.

Ironically, I did get yet another application out to the ABC/DGA directing program in 2007, AND I actually got called for an interview.  I passed.

Above Me

You have
money and
a stay-at-home wife.

You live in a house.
You drive a nice car.
You are The Boss and
You are a Father.

when I am none of these things
when I have none of these things
how can you ever see me?

a single white woman with nothing
but smarts and
a quietly exploding wellspring of
frustrated ambition

The Wednesday Meeting

With eyes and fingers

Intent on his laptop he

Thinks about numbers and lunches and reports

While he listens to the meeting

Speaking up when he has something to contribute

As he crosses off the calls he made from the car

Multi-tasking the same way I

Listen to audiobooks while I type up the minutes

Except

He’s not sitting there thinking about kissing me.

Walking the Boulevard

Stars on the sidewalk,

Hollywood Boulevard feels

crisp, like I belong.

Face the journey.

She stands at the bottom of a new peak.  The air is still, and though she feels the weight of time and experience, she is happy.

Turning, she regards the path taken.  It is not heavily traveled, and she has often walked it with Loneliness and Doubt.  Sometimes she has slowed, felt she could not go on, but she has never failed to put one foot in front of the other no matter the strength required.  She has crawled.

Sometimes a companion reached out a hand to her, and she took it, thankful.

But in this moment, she stands alone.

She envisions her journey in legs, in blocks of time and place, and she considers this most recent.  Lessons learned.  Experience gained.  Small accomplishments which she greets with an immoderate amount of pride and joy.

Her heart has been injured, an innocence lost forever.

There has been loss.

But no matter.  Today is for the new peak.  Today is for what lies ahead.

A fog rests just above her head, white and heavy.  She feels its moisture wick her hair.  She cannot see how high nor how steep her journey lies.  But she can see the path leads up.  And she senses distance.  She gives thanks for good footwear and inner strength.

For all her progress, still she must climb.  Still she must learn.  Still she must hope.  And it will take everything that came before to get to the next crest.

She stands at the bottom of a new peak.  And as the moist, cool air begins to wisp through her fingers, she considers all the many things that she does not yet know, and she begins to climb.

Occasionally, you will have to endure a poem.

Slant Ride

A woman on the train alone,

she's sure she's antisocial.

She doesn't walk to talk to you,

doesn't want you to be vocal.

~

She doesn't need your comments,

your hey baby, kissy, kissy.

Even friendly conversation,

makes her nervous and uneasy.

~

And it's not your look or attitude,

that chills her to the bone.

It's that she doesn't know you,

and she's just trying to get home.

Be brave in love.

She stands on bare tippy-toes at the edge, looking down. Her hair whips about in a sudden gust, stirred up from down below. It is dark again, long and loose around her face. "Ooo, big scary chasm," she thinks. "Deep."

She looks at a rope lying next to her; she looks at a ladder that leads down. She remembers other such chasms. Falls. Climbing back, battered. The last one... such permanent damage makes her angry, that it will always be with her, that one. A forever wounded piece of heartsoul. But she moved forward from that, (and the one before, and the one before), and here she is. Which is, in its own way, a supremely pleasant surprise. She lets it go with her breath. The time for stomping feet and clenching fists and even tears has past on that one. She considers this chasm, it's shape and possibilities. It's depths. She does so love surprises.

She doesn't take a running start. She doesn't step back from the edge. She doesn't want a rope, or a ladder, or even a trail of breadcrumbs. For a moment, she merely teeters there, feeling the edge with her toes, the wind with her face. She's been here before. She is effortless, skilled, and it is all so familiar and yet always wonderfully different as she simply pushes off, as through the air were water, and sails above the chasm, floats, arms spread, buffeted by what has become a strong, warm breeze. Surprisingly, and not entirely within her control, remains the decision to dive. To fold the body and the mind and the soul and the heart, neatly down.

She knows if she stays here long enough, the chasm will have her. The decision to leave the edge will become the decision to fall. Even now, how easy is the return? The edge she's just left appears first close, but then far, elusive. She doesn't really care; it's warm here, and she has always been decisive in her movements.

Where will this rabbit hole lead? She doesn't know, but she's just so glad to be back. Her body sings it. Her mind sees it. Her heart beats strong and her soul breaths deep.

This is her why.

Her body begins to arch.