Pushing Up To Monday Afternoon

Gotta make something of the day today.  Just gotta.

It’s getting on to 1pm and I haven’t done anything yet.  Took a couple phone calls, showered, pissed around on the internet, bought some music… and the thing is, the music has me twitching to make something great today.

I want to finish a major component to the project I’m working on for the city.  Getting the books up to date would also be a good thing.  More than anything, I want to write, but before I can do that, I want to finish the book I took out last week, ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.’  It’s so good I don’t even want to rush.

“It’s like we’re taught NOT to look at things.  Truth comes knocking on the door and we say, ‘Go away!  I’m looking for truth!’  And truth goes away.  Puzzling.”

Gotta get some yoga in too.  I’m on the last week of a two week unlimited pass I bought last week.  I’ve only got one class in so far.  I like yoga.  Chills me out.  Feels me good.  Just gotta commit to it dammit!

My school work is a bit behind too.  Got an assignment to hand in next week.  If I pick away at it everyday over the next 10 days, I’ll be alright.

[a moment passes]

My friend Ingrid just emailed me.  She just made plans to have me show up at yoga at 9:30 tomorrow morning then meet for tea afterward to discuss an idea she has.  Ingrid’s an accomplished actress, yogi, and dancer.  She’s in town from Vancouver working on a play.

Looks like I’ve got yoga and new ideas in my immediate future.  Maybe I can add books, books, burgers, and milestones with a little bit of determination too.

No Plan. No Rudder. Nothin’ But Motion

I found myself piloting my car down Highway 11 towards Saskatoon yesterday at around 1:30pm and my predominant thought was, ‘didn’t know I’d be doing this 12 hours ago.’

Got into a conversation with Miranda, an old friend, and decided to come up for a beer.  Wasn’t sure if I’d spend the night or not, or where.  Didn’t care.  I needed to hit the road.  Needed to do something different.  Didn’t know why.  I just felt it.

Miranda and I have known each other four years.  She is a carnival and her circle of friends are side show acts.  She walks around and people get caught up in her wake.  They can never bring themselves to leave.  I suppose I’m one of them.  The only kinds of people NOT welcome, are disrespectful douche bags.

We only see each other a couple times a year.  You can say anything to Miranda.  Anything at all.  The more extreme, the better.  We met at the Spadina Freehouse and had a couple pints before I left for a hair cut.

The hairstylist was Lins’ sister Rochelle.  Remember Lins?  Mentioned her a couple of times in previous posts.  Anyway, Jazz, Lins, Rochelle and I were all hanging out last summer and next thing I know, Rochelle’s wrapping a bib around me and starts cutting my hair.  I pretended to be indignant, but in reality, I never got more complements on a haircut.

So since I was already in Saskatoon, I made a point of tracking Rochelle down.  Met at her salon and it was just the two of us (she kept it open late to fit me in).  She’s cutting on my hair and asked what I was doing in town.  I told her.  She asked if I had a place to stay and I mentioned I wasn’t sure.  Rochelle said, “well, you’re welcome to stay at my place… but no sex!”  We chuckled and I said I might take her up on the offer.

An hour later Rochelle and I were sitting around a table in a pub called the Fox & Hound with Miranda and her other friend, Reggie.  Reggie’s a 6’ 6” gay man with painted nails and a heavy lisp.  He works at a sex shop with Miranda and gets paid in tattoos.  Their other friend Tamsen was our server.  It was fun to watch Rochelle get sucked into Miranda’s wake.  Looks like the two will be sharing an apartment soon.  Amidst the carnival, we all danced across topics that would make a sailer blush.

A few hours later I was back at Rochelle’s place, inflating the air bed I dug out of my camping stuff from the trunk of my car.  It was only the second time ever seeing each other, and yet there we were, sharing our skeletons in a perfectly extreme conversation in her apartment.  A great way to end the evening.

She’s flying to LA on Monday to spend some much needed time with her long distance boyfriend Tom.  She’s moving to Australia in January to be with him.  Not sure when I’ll see her again, but it doesn’t really matter.  Life moves.  That’s what I liked the most about the last 24 hours.  No plan.  Just a lot of motion.

Gonna wrap this up.  It’s Saturday morning in a downtown Saskatoon Starbucks.  Miranda just texted.  Her sex shop is next door and she asked me to bring a coffee.

In Remembrerance

I’m having a hard time believing that any ideology conceived by human beings is worth killing for, and certainly not dying for.  Yet we do it.  We do it and we glorify it.  We vilify it and we do it again.  Over and over, generation after generation.  We, all of us, are doing it right now.

We talk about Stalin and Hitler and Chairman Mao, and others as being mass murderers.  Yet it was not they themselves who turned on the gas, who pulled the triggers, who tortured and executed and raped, and destroyed lives.  It was everyday ordinary common foot soldiers who did most of the dirty work.  Thousands of them.

Were they particularly evil?  Were they ‘believers’ who drank up the propaganda and spilled blood for the greater good?

‘They’ believed they were doing good for ‘their’ side.  They believed it came down to a choice between ‘their’ own survival, or that of their foes.  ‘They’ listened to the speeches.  ‘They’ believed themselves to be true and just in their actions.  ‘They’ believed themselves to be better than those they persecuted.

‘They’ took one little step towards some unpleasant business.  And then another small step past that.  And then another.  And another.  And quickly more thereafter.  Faster and faster ‘they’ moved away from the place where their moral compass first started out until soon the question of evil and morality and of good and bad and right and wrong seemed so clear…

They could not recognize how far they moved that line until it was too late.

Perhaps most chilling, ‘they’ are just like you and me.  The capacity to bring destruction to our fellow human beings is as present in all of us every single moment of the day, as is our capacity to bring great works of good to the world.  Often, one is confused for the other.

I stood at a Remembrance Day ceremony this morning, and these were the thoughts racing through my mind.

Too Much Time

I ran a yellow light then ducked into an alley, making sure the coast was clear.  My deadline can’t find me now and so I think I’ll just sit here a spell and write.

It all started this morning in the edit suite with my client.  She just said the worst possible thing that anyone could ever say to me. “No rush.”

Well hell… now what?  Suddenly I don’t feel like working anymore.  I was in the edit suite ‘til 1:30am last night and I planned to spend the whole day today, pushing hard to get this thing done by tomorrow.  Woulda been on pace too.  Karen likes what I’ve done so far, but now we need to collect a few more pieces to the puzzle, and that could take a few days.

I now have ‘time’.  Plenty of it.  My time cup runneth over.  It runneth over and stainneth me.  Ever try to wash time off your hands?  You can’t.  It sticks to everything and the best you can do, is to TRY and leave it alone.

As I’ve mentioned in other posts, I have a rather dysfunctional relationship with ‘time’.  Don’t really care for it.  When something needs doing, I feel it nagging me.  When something can wait, I STILL feel it nagging me.

I’m so flustered with time, I don’t even know what I’d rather be doing right now.  I mean, I like what I’m doing in the edit suite.  I’m happy with how it’s turning out.  But now I have options.  Got some reading to do.  Got some research to do.    Got even more nothing I’d like to get to.

And time just hangs over me, judging me.  I’ve been sitting here in the window of Atlantis writing, passing time for nearly an hour, and I still don’t know what I want to do with all this time.  Dump it in the ocean methinks.  Donate it to science.  Shove it down a hole in some dusty third world country.

Don’t know but I gotta go.  Ran out of time on my battery.

Less Officey

I am sitting here in the office blogging and the thought that goes through my head is, why do I call it ‘the office’?

I used to be about having an office with a mass of humanity working for me, but those days & desires are long gone.  It ultimately was all about my ego, and less about a practical sense of purpose.  I wanted to be the president and CEO of a large successful company and over the last ten years, I can count at least $100,000 I’ve spent towards that goal.  Most of it went towards wages for people I didn’t really need, and who ultimately didn’t work out.

I guess that’s why I’m optimistic for the future.  If I could raise money like that and waste it with my head planted firmly up my ass, then I can surely raise that kind of money again, and go much further with it.

I’ve been debating what to do with this space.  I’m the only one here these days.  Costs about $20,000 per year to hang on to (utilities included).  That’s a lot for one person.  Too much in fact.  I should get rid of it.

But then I consider the fact that I’m not writing proposals and putting them out the door for nothing.  One project sets me up for the next several years, and I have several such projects.  If they all go forward, this space won’t be big enough.  Not only that, but this space is full of furniture, equipment, art, and other bits of accumulations.  What do I do with it all?

It’s clear that I’m going to need this space when the time comes.  Just gotta be patient.

In the meantime, ‘office’ leaves a sour taste in my mouth.  I’ve got 12’ ceilings, wooden beams, brick, and lots of open space.  This is a creative space loaded with everything I need to make art.  My space is a ‘studio’.  This is my studio.

I have decided that as soon as this City of Regina project is done, I’m gonna make some changes.  I’m gonna put some love back into the place… make it less officey.

Minnesota Weather Bombs

Beautiful day yesterday.  Sun was high and warm.  Not bad for November.  Not bad at all.

October went out like spoiled rotten bastard step-child.  Our first snow of the year came in the form of a mid-January blizzard.  A cold wind wreaked havoc on the city and pile drove snow into the deepest nooks of every cranny.  Highways were shut down.  Cars were in the ditch.  Travel was near impossible.  Best way to get around was on foot, and even then, the sidewalks were so caked with ice, you needed the agility of a gymnast just to stay on your feet.

That was two weeks ago.  Snow’s all gone now.  Meteorologists called it a ‘weather bomb’ from Minnesota.  I think Minnesota ought to find somewhere else to dump its weather.  We have enough of our own and we can retaliate a hundred fold.

Fortunately spirits are up around here.  The Riders won convincingly yesterday, putting Edmonton out of the playoffs.  BC is here next Sunday for the Western Semi-final.  After that it’s Calgary, and the next game after that is Grey Cup.  If the Riders can win that game, no force on earth could get this city down.

Not even Minnesota weather bombs.

Monkey Junk

All the people look at all the monkeys over there, eating, sleeping, shitting, fucking, masturbating and throwing their pooh around.  Then the monkeys look back and say, “Look at all the people over there… they’re just like us!”

I would add that people also complicate everything.

***

You can’t get anything for yourself just doing nothing.  Not love.  Not career.  Not anything.

I can’t help but think about the things I don’t have right now.  How fucked up is that?  Patience.  That’s what I keep telling myself.  My year has taken many unexpected twists and I’ve accomplished quite a bit.

Then I looked at something I wrote last December…

“The last year has been both the hardest, and greatest year of my life.  A world-wide recession and completely handicapped Canadian television industry led to a very slow year business wise.  I’ve had a lot of time on my hands, and I used it to focus on one thing at a time, one day at a time.  The last 12 months have seen many accomplishments.”

I still haven’t green lit anything but like last year, I had a lot of time on my hands to develop new projects and set myself up for the future.  I’m getting really good at creating new projects.  Have a whole shitload of ‘em now.

Methinks my problem might be marketing these projects.  For a few weeks now I’ve been contemplating a trip to Washington DC to meet with a number of US broadcasters at a market there called ‘ReelScreen’.  I have 13 episodes of an award winning crime series in the can, just waiting for a nice US acquisition.  That sale alone would pay for the trip ten fold.  A green light on a new project from a US broadcaster would set me up for the next three years.

Maybe if I eat my Wheaties, I can sneak a trip to Toronto before or after the trek to Washington, and meet with a bunch of Canadian broadcasters too.  I have to fly through Hogtown anyway and I have lots of friends there who’d lend me a couch.  Wouldn’t cost very much at all.

Hmmm….

***

And then all the people look at the all the monkeys and say, “Yeah, but at least we have drama.”

Laptop Lovin’

I am NOT prepared to admit to myself, how many hours per day I spend with my nose in my Macbook Air.  I can’t even watch TV without it being open in my lap.

Half the time, I’m not even doing anything important.  Just surfing the same old sites, checking emails, or playing backgammon on FIBS.

Every morning, I roll out of bed and my first act is to check my email.  I’ll even skip the morning piss to avoid delay.

If my laptop were whiskey, I’d be an alcoholic.

I suppose I’m not completely pathetic.  I went for a run yesterday then hit some weights.  No laptop there.  Watched the Rider game at Jason’s and the night before I did Shawn’s birthday.  No laptop there either.  I also hung out at Court’s last night.  We were working on a midterm exam, but we spent more time talking than typing.  I declare a half laptop for that occasion.

Today as I map out my day, my laptop remains in the picture, but I’ll be nosing into other computer screens in the meantime.  Got newspaper headlines to scan at the University and then later, making something of them in the edit suite.

I am a writer.  Writers write (in laptops).  Writers also procrastinate (in laptops).  Life seeps in between the cracks and it’s all good.  It’s not like I have a choice.  If I’m gonna be me, I gotta be me with a laptop in my life.

Bring on the whiskey.  My cup runneth over!