The Next Big Thing

What a difference a day makes.  My clean slate has become muddied with a new project.

Shortly after writing my last blog entry, I left Atlantis and made my way over to Wascana Park.  I talked to PJ on my cell phone while doing a lap around the lake.  In an hour and a half we came up with a plan to put our new project in motion.  I don’t want to say much at this stage because this project is potentially HUGE.  We’ve already secured a commitment from a very influential game developer in the new media industry and a lot of predevelopment work has already taken place.  I need to spend the next week learning more about the project, and looking at the funding sources a little bit closer.  PJ needs to hone the creative idea down a bit further and get it to me by the end of next week.  I’ll probably be heading down to Vancouver around Thanksgiving to do a face to face with PJ and meet with Telefilm.  I’ll also be taking the opportunity to see friends and spend time with the Jasminator.

Wish us luck!

Clean Slates

The only problem with a clean slate is the absolute reluctance I feel to get started on dirtying it up again.  I have the same problem when I write… it seems to take a mammoth effort to bring myself to make a mark on the clean white page when I first start.  After about three sentences, I’m locked in and I’m completely focused on finding just the right words to form yet more sentences with.

Clean slates I think are far more complicated to muddy up.  You can’t just dive in and start writing sentences (metaphorically speaking).  You need to sit there and do nothing for a little while.  You need to let the next steps come to you, rather than you going to them.  Otherwise you can get yourself started down the wrong path and the effort it takes to correct your course will wind up being more costly and time consuming than simply sitting around waiting for it to unfold in the first place.

Still, I’m not sure if it’s just the whispers of procrastination speaking in that last paragraph, or if I really am tapping something that makes sense.

[some minutes pass while Jarrett ponders the thought… also distracted by a pretty girl in a sun dress]

It’s a combination of the two methinks.  I do have projects on the back burner that I’ve been thinking about.  There’s the Cuba project that I can attempt to breathe life back into.  There’s a kite boarding teaser that I can get started on.  There’s a promising project that PJ and I want to work on together.  I also have a feature film script that’s kicking around in the back of my mind entitled, “Really Crude, Artistically Devoid, Morally Bankrupt, But Not Pornographic, Crappy Movie.”  It’s based on a play that I wrote.  I also have an epic sized documentary series that’s been in the works for some time called, ‘Fresh’.

So… I do have things that I want to get started on… great big things, with great big road maps.  And these are on top of the four projects that I just put out the door.  What’s going to happen to these back burner projects if/when the first four projects need my attention sometime within the next six weeks?

[Jarrett stops cold upon writing that last sentence.  It seems he has been struck by an epiphany]

Hmmm…. I feel like I’ve just had an epiphany.  It seems I have a six week window to get one of these back burner projects done.

La Multi Ani Laura

I Skyped Laura this morning to wish her a happy birthday.  She’s kind of odd when she talks on the phone… she monologues instead of conversing.  She goes on and on in  coherent sentences, complete with punctuation.  She actually inserts commas and periods into her manner of speaking.  Most people when they speak, (including myself) just string a bunch of run-on half sentences together, populated by numerous umms and ahhs.  We speak very different from how we write.  Pay attention some time in your next conversation, and you’ll see for yourself.

Not only does Laura speak in complete sentences, but she speaks in complete paragraphs.  So as I said before, when she has something to say on the phone, she says it in two minute monologues.

This isn’t to say that Laura talks too much.  On the contrary.  After being married to PJ for 11 years, I know the difference between ‘making talking sounds with your mouth’ and actually communicating an idea.  PJ is brilliant… one of the top PhD students in the country.  Yet, despite her brilliance, she has the most meandering manner of speaking that I’ve ever seen.  She’s never in a hurry to make her point, nor does one get the sense that a point is forthcoming when she speaks.  I think we could solve a big part of our energy crisis simply by hooking a power generator up to her jaw muscles.   When I tell her this, PJ just laughs and then continues with whatever she was saying in the first place.

So back to Laura.  What more can I say… except perhaps, ‘La Mulți Ani Laura!’

Beginnings and Endings

Yesterday clearly marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life.  It was the first day of a completely open slate of new possibilities.  Done, were four projects ready for pitching at MIP COM in France in two weeks.  Aside from making the odd phone call, or sending the odd email, those four projects are completely packaged and ready for the international market.

It’s now time to think about beginning new projects and it feels great to be in this headspace.  I think a person can get disoriented with a never ending cycle of tasks and projects because you never know where you stand.  You never truly appreciate the sensation of completing something, or starting with a clean slate.  It’s not often that I feel the sensation of a clear beginning, or a clear ending.

I will enjoy this.

Dark Roast and a Saskatoonberry Muffin

“I’ll have a dark roast and a Saskatoonberry muffin please.”

Almost every morning since I’ve been back from Bucharest, my day has begun at Atlantis with that phrase.  I’m getting to know all of the staff very well… some I’ve know for years.  I like to start my day there, reading the newspaper, surfing, and writing.  After an hour or so I move on to whatever I need to get done for the day. And yet, every morning, I always get the same response, “To stay or to go?”

You’d think they’d catch on by now.  Clearly they’re just not paying attention.  But then again, maybe they’re just not that into me?  Maybe they’re politely asking me to get out.

“To stay or to go?”  I feel like mutherfucking Hamlet all of a sudden. Not sure what to think.  Not sure where to go.  Maybe they just want me to start ordering lattes.  But I don’t want lattes in the morning.  I want a regular cup of dark roast coffee… and a Saskatoonberry muffin.

And maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I noticed they started bringing in a herd of office workers every week day at 10am.  They take up all the spots and if I’m not in Atlantis on time, I have nowhere to sit.  And what’s with the jerk who always takes my spot?  I like to sit in the same spot everyday… at the ounter top, facing the window, closest chair to the door.

“To stay or to go?”  Now that I think about it, I remember a slight inflection on the ‘go’ part.  No one else would detect such an inflection, but I’m trained in inflections.  I spent a year in voice class working on inflections.  I KNOW WHEN SOMEONE’S INFLECTING ME TO GO!

Well… no.  I ain’t going.  I’m staying and I’m going to order dark roast coffee and I’m going to eat Saskatoonberry fucking muffins, and I’m going to sit here and surf, and sit and read my book and sit and… JUST TO PISS ‘EM ALL OFF!!!!

My book is about finding inner peace.

Riders 55 – Bombers 10

I nearly came in my pants when the Riders flirted with putting 60 points on the board during yesterday’s game.  Towards the end of the game, they actually tried NOT to score in an act of mercy (the ultimate insult).  Almost everything the team did, worked.

My enthusiasm over the Riders is tempered however.  Winnipeg is the worst team in the league.  We play Edmonton next weekend and we’ll see how we fair against a better opponent.  The thing I like about this team though, is that they get incrementally better every week.  Montreal is the class of the league and they’re showing signs of slipping, as are other teams.  At this point in the season, I could see Saskatchewan and Hamilton playing in the Grey Cup.

The following is my list of teams on the rise, showing incremental improvement every week;

  1. 1.Saskatchewan
  2. 2.Hamilton
  3. 3.Calgary
  4. 4.Toronto

The following is my list of teams in decline either because they’re peaking right now, or they’re hopeless.

  1. 1.Winnipeg
  2. 2.BC
  3. 3.Edmonton
  4. 4.Montreal

A Bowl Full of Dicks

“Eat a bowl full of dicks,” is an expression I learned from my friend Nicole yesterday.  It’s something you’d say to someone when you’d otherwise tell them to go fuck themselves, or “take a long hard suck on my arse.”

The expression inspired some pondering.  For example, as I visualized a bowl full of dicks, I wondered where the dicks would come from… who would the dick donors be?  Maybe the dicks were surgically removed because they were freakish mutations, like a sixth toe or something with limited functionality.  So maybe the donor had two dicks, and the second one was an iddy biddy dick that didn’t even work.  So they sliced it off and dropped it in a bowl.

But a “bowl full” of dicks… that’s a lot of dick donors.  How long would one have to wait before enough genetic dick mutations came along?  How do you store the dicks in the meantime while you wait for more dicks?  It just seems implausible.

It’s more likely that a single mulidick dick donor came along to provide a sufficient amount of dicks to fill an average sized bowl.  I asked Nicole if she could imagine making out with such a guy.  You know, everything is going well, heavy petting, and she’s going down… opens his fly and BAM!  NIne dicks.

Then what?  Does she put them all in her mouth?  Does she give him head(s)?  And what about the moment of ejaculation?  What a fucking mess.  Literally.  Nine dicks worth of jizz.  You’d need a wet/dry shop vac just to clean it up.

But then maybe not.  Assuming all those dicks were fueled by one average sized set of testicles, maybe it would be the same load, except distributed through nine dick channels.  Maybe then all you’d get is a trickle out of each dick… a dick trickle.  Would an orgasm then be one 9th of it’s ‘normal’ intensity?

Would you feel anything if you had nine dicks?  ONE 9th of an orgasm!  That’s like the pleasure you get from having to pee really bad.  It’s no wonder the guy would have had eight of his dicks surgically removed.  And then of course, the ultimate insult would be to feed those dysfunctional, orgasm diminishing, dick trickling dicks to someone you really didn’t like.

It would be a bowl full of dicks.

Art Opening

Last night I found myself standing in Carolyn’s backyard with about 50 people.  She was having an art opening.  Her paintings were hanging on walls all over her home and Ben Surhis, the King of House Concerts, was playing to a receptive crowd.

There was a beer in my hand, and Mel Schnell was at my side with her new baby boy, Gabriel.  I talked to Nadia and bumped into all sorts of people I hadn’t seen in some time.  Most of us were film people.  Sarah and Leon just finished working on a movie and there was no new work on the horizon.  Sarah even talked about getting a regular job.  She said it with absolute disgust.  Ours, is a lifestyle with tremendous freedom, unlimited potential, devastating downsides, and no middle.  A real job is all middle with no upside, and the downside is the possibility of doing the same thing, in the same way, for the rest of your life.

Collectively, we’re a pretty weird lot.  Perfect for a backyard art opening house party concert.

Historic Week

Eight years ago today I was in the office when a guy who worked with us at the time ran in and declared that a plane had hit one of the towers of the World Trade Centre.  We hastily found an old TV, set up its antenna and got CBC over the airwaves.  We spent the next few hours watching the world change before our eyes.  No work was done.  We shut down everything, even our websites and put up a simple memorial message in tribute to ‘all the human beings who were touched by this horrible event’.

I settled on a philosophy class.  I didn’t even bother hunting around for options after that first class.  Our prof seems genuinely passionate about the subject and our personalities seem compatible, though I haven’t really spoken to him yet.  I’m taking the class with my cousin, Shyanne, who’s just beginning her first year of university.  I’m happy to be playing a part in the beginning of her university experience.  I plan to do the same with Jazzy in about eight years.

The campus itself is buzzing.  ‘Welcome Week’ is packed with concerts in the academic green, parties, free food, and first year students.  They’re wandering aimlessly, eyes wide, wearing their best cloths, best hairstyles and wondering what the hell they got themselves into.  In about two months they’ll be in sweat pants and ball caps with bags under their eyes.

It’s a good energy right now.  I’m enjoying it.

Long Weekend

It’s 9:57am and I’m sitting in a classroom on the UofR campus, waiting for Philosophy 100 to start.  It the first of three Philosophy 100 classes that I’ll be auditioning over the next two days.  I’m looking for a class that has a prof who can be passionate about the subject.

I was in the stands for the annual Labour Day Classic on Sunday.  What a game!  It was a carnival atmosphere complete with carnival characters (Winnipeg’s Head Coach being one of them).  The Riders won in convincing fashion and it seems the team is improving every game.  I think we’ll be an even better team in November than we are right now.