In a recent post I mentioned that telling people that you want to pursue creative endeavors as a career is similar to telling people that you want to be a spaceman. They don't doubt that you are earnest, but they encourage you to get a teaching degree.
Well, about three weeks ago I reckoned that if I wanted to be a spaceman then I better start building a spaceship in my backyard. Yes, I will be running with that metaphor.
I have decided to make a short film. It is something that I wrote and will direct direct. It's a small step toward pursing my desire to be a storyteller, but it needs to start somewhere.
Currently, I am trying to "pass the hat," asking people if they want to throw in five bucks to cover some production cost. I'm not trying to raise much, just $350 for this production. It's sort of an NPR deal. This film will be available for free on the web, but if somebody wants to help make it a reality, then they are welcome to donate.
While I'm working on this film and raising funds I figured I would update people on the production via this blog. So, this is chapter one. Each week I will be writing about a different aspect of this productions from the story to the rehearsals to the cast.
If you are interested in donating a few bucks please follow the link below.
Full-Time Dreamer Productions Paypal Donations
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Living Through History
When I was a kid my Grandma Collins was my go to source for all thing history. I have always had a deep interest in history and my Grandma loved talking about the moments that she had witnesses. Chief among them were both the devastating attack on Pearl Harbor and the tragic assassination of President Kennedy. I remember her telling me time and time again about the moment that she heard about President Kennedy being gunned down in Dallas. While some of my Grandmother's memories were influenced by her imagination the details of November 22, 1963 were always the same. My mom was a year old and she was playing in the living room when the news came on the television.
I suppose that I was fascinated that my Grandmother had actually experienced these moments herself and not just in history books. She had actually experienced the moment that the country changed.
On September 11, 2001 I finally learned what it was like to experience a defining moment in history. I was 19 and I was attending class at Muskegon Community College and after the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon classes were canceled for the day. I got into my car and turned on the radio. Every single channel was without music. Instead, it was all news and it was then that I understood the enormity of the moment.
Since then I wondered what I would tell my grandchildren about that day and the years that followed. The day is easier. I could tell them in great detail about how I spent that day talking on the phone with my friend Tom or how I called my dad at work. I could tell them about how I watched the towers falls while standing in my mom's office and it was the first time that I ever heard somebody say the word "fuck" on network television. I could tell them that it was the first time that I ever looked up into the sky above my small town and didn't see one airplane flying through it. I could tell them about how I spent hours watching TV that day just trying to take it all in. Or how my sister, Megan rushed over to a blood drive to donate blood.
The following years aren't going to be as easy. I don't want to get into politics on this blog because as I mentioned before the 140 characters afforded me on Twitter are more than enough for my opinion. Still, for the last nine years of my adult this moment has dominated the cultural landscape from politics around me to the art that I enjoy.
I suppose that I will be honest with my grandchildren. I will tell them that in the years that followed 9/11 I became very ashamed of my country. I will tell them about the details of the wars that left a stain on the conscience of the country.
Why will I tell them all of this? Because it is important. Far too often we like to sort of whitewash history. When we hear stories about World War II they are always stories about valor and sacrifice. Those stories deserve to be told because ordinary men and women did extraordinary things in order to defeat great opposition. However, how often do we hear about the Japanese Internment camps that our very own citizens were forced into because of the fear that they might be spies?
I'm considered to be pretty liberal among my friends. I feel like the perception is that liberals aren't very Patriotic. I strongly disagree. I consider myself to be very patriotic and idealistic. I hold that the Constitution is one of the most important man made documents and that it should be defended by those who would threaten it.
So, I will tell my grandchildren that after those towers fell, after the Pentagon was sent on fire, and after ordinary Americans aboard United 93 gave their lives to protect others, that I would honor those who lost their live by upholding the principles that define this country. That some of the decisions that were made by my leaders after 9/11 challenged those ideals but certain people would not give up on them.
Anyway, going back to that day, I suppose what I will most want to impress upon them is that while some caused great evil it was met with great good. I will tell them about how as the Trade Towers burned and destruction was everywhere brave men and women of the NYFD and NYPD rushed into danger to save the lives of others. I will tell them that they sacrificed their lives so that others may live. I will tell them that while a small amount of hateful men chose to cause death on that day many more chose to preserve life by giving their own.
I will tell them that I never forgot those who gave their lives for others.
I suppose that I was fascinated that my Grandmother had actually experienced these moments herself and not just in history books. She had actually experienced the moment that the country changed.
On September 11, 2001 I finally learned what it was like to experience a defining moment in history. I was 19 and I was attending class at Muskegon Community College and after the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon classes were canceled for the day. I got into my car and turned on the radio. Every single channel was without music. Instead, it was all news and it was then that I understood the enormity of the moment.
Since then I wondered what I would tell my grandchildren about that day and the years that followed. The day is easier. I could tell them in great detail about how I spent that day talking on the phone with my friend Tom or how I called my dad at work. I could tell them about how I watched the towers falls while standing in my mom's office and it was the first time that I ever heard somebody say the word "fuck" on network television. I could tell them that it was the first time that I ever looked up into the sky above my small town and didn't see one airplane flying through it. I could tell them about how I spent hours watching TV that day just trying to take it all in. Or how my sister, Megan rushed over to a blood drive to donate blood.
The following years aren't going to be as easy. I don't want to get into politics on this blog because as I mentioned before the 140 characters afforded me on Twitter are more than enough for my opinion. Still, for the last nine years of my adult this moment has dominated the cultural landscape from politics around me to the art that I enjoy.
I suppose that I will be honest with my grandchildren. I will tell them that in the years that followed 9/11 I became very ashamed of my country. I will tell them about the details of the wars that left a stain on the conscience of the country.
Why will I tell them all of this? Because it is important. Far too often we like to sort of whitewash history. When we hear stories about World War II they are always stories about valor and sacrifice. Those stories deserve to be told because ordinary men and women did extraordinary things in order to defeat great opposition. However, how often do we hear about the Japanese Internment camps that our very own citizens were forced into because of the fear that they might be spies?
I'm considered to be pretty liberal among my friends. I feel like the perception is that liberals aren't very Patriotic. I strongly disagree. I consider myself to be very patriotic and idealistic. I hold that the Constitution is one of the most important man made documents and that it should be defended by those who would threaten it.
So, I will tell my grandchildren that after those towers fell, after the Pentagon was sent on fire, and after ordinary Americans aboard United 93 gave their lives to protect others, that I would honor those who lost their live by upholding the principles that define this country. That some of the decisions that were made by my leaders after 9/11 challenged those ideals but certain people would not give up on them.
Anyway, going back to that day, I suppose what I will most want to impress upon them is that while some caused great evil it was met with great good. I will tell them about how as the Trade Towers burned and destruction was everywhere brave men and women of the NYFD and NYPD rushed into danger to save the lives of others. I will tell them that they sacrificed their lives so that others may live. I will tell them that while a small amount of hateful men chose to cause death on that day many more chose to preserve life by giving their own.
I will tell them that I never forgot those who gave their lives for others.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
September
I used to sort of dread Labor Day because it meant the end of the summer. When I worked at a movie theater Labor Day was the weekend that the really bad movies were released. All the summer blockbuster had come and gone so the studios dropped the films starring C-list actors in that last weekend. Nobody would see these movies and the empty theaters were sort of fitting. Just two months before the theaters were packed with people seeing the new exciting popcorn films. To me, this symbolized the end of summer. The big over the top movies were a big part of my summer and when they were done I knew that the season was over.
After Labor Day I would have to go back to school and my days of lounging around and feeling free would be done. In the summer I could stay up until late in the night and then sleep in to well into the afternoon. Once the school year started I would still stay up late but couldn't sleep in past 8 in the morning.
Now, it has been 10 years since I experienced my last "first day of school." But, I suppose it took me awhile to shake that I was losing something when September hit. This prevented me from realizing that September is a rather exciting month.
A conversation with a friend a couple of weeks ago got me thinking about things in a different light. Since high school September has become a month of new beginnings. When I started college every September brought a whole new experience as I started brand new classes. Even the year that I took off from college, when I started my life in Chicago, there was this feeling of a new chapter beginning in this month.
For whatever reason September seems to be the time of the year that new things begin. Last year, I started working at my new job in September, the day after Labor Day to be exact. I'm not really sure if anything new is about to begin this September, it really is one of those things that takes shape in hindsight. But, if history proves to be reliable then chances are that something new will beginning fairly soon.
Perhaps, it will be nothing more than a perspective change and that wouldn't be such a bad thing at all.
After Labor Day I would have to go back to school and my days of lounging around and feeling free would be done. In the summer I could stay up until late in the night and then sleep in to well into the afternoon. Once the school year started I would still stay up late but couldn't sleep in past 8 in the morning.
Now, it has been 10 years since I experienced my last "first day of school." But, I suppose it took me awhile to shake that I was losing something when September hit. This prevented me from realizing that September is a rather exciting month.
A conversation with a friend a couple of weeks ago got me thinking about things in a different light. Since high school September has become a month of new beginnings. When I started college every September brought a whole new experience as I started brand new classes. Even the year that I took off from college, when I started my life in Chicago, there was this feeling of a new chapter beginning in this month.
For whatever reason September seems to be the time of the year that new things begin. Last year, I started working at my new job in September, the day after Labor Day to be exact. I'm not really sure if anything new is about to begin this September, it really is one of those things that takes shape in hindsight. But, if history proves to be reliable then chances are that something new will beginning fairly soon.
Perhaps, it will be nothing more than a perspective change and that wouldn't be such a bad thing at all.
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