Saturday

8 pm and it's still light out.  A gorgeous evening light.  I can't remember if I'd been planning on doing anything tonight, but at any rate, I'm sitting here at home, finally doing laundry.  A single bird sings in the distance; engulfing all other sounds, is the constant drone of freeway traffic.

Woke up early, itching to get out of the house, finally went out to get coffee, and walked over to the little slice of paradise down the street, staying longer than I'd planned, because while the air was chilly, the rising sun was warm, and walking seemed like a good idea.  My real reason for leaving the house was to buy ingredients for a cake.  Our garden had a bake sale today (and tomorrow) and I needed to make something.  Made the apple cake again, this time mixing things in the right order (but it made no difference in the outcome at all, so I guess it doesn't really matter), and switching in a pear for one of the apples.  Sold all of it, people said it was good.  (So, yay!)  We use the money to buy tools, and soil ammendments (this is a very old garden), and for maintenance of the garden.

After my shift at the sale, I bought too many plants (only three tomato plants this time, although, three different squashes as well, which will take up a lot of space) and though I wasn't dressed for it, spent the next three hours weeding, and planting, and generally crawling around in the dirt...getting my microbial fix.  The garden looks better.  The lettuce never did germinate, maybe I should plant something else there.

And everywhere, everyone in a rush to get to the next phase of...?  My neighbor already has ripe artichokes, and my leeks are getting ready to flower.

We're shooting our new script tomorrow...haven't seen it yet, so no prep, then.

Friday

Went to go see the Daedalus Quartet earlier tonight.  They played two Beethoven pieces (Quartet No. 3 and String Quartet No. 3 in D Major, Op. 18, No.3), and a world premier by local composer Huck Hodge in the middle, before intermission, called The Topography of Desire.  Hodge came up to introduce it beforehand, explained how he had a string on each instrument tuned slightly off all the others so that the tones could come close at times in the music, but never quite meet up, leaving a dissonance, and an unfufilled desire.  And he said something about "The poetics of..." which I wanted to remember, but had forgotten by intermission.  My mind wandering to wonder about what a relationship would be like with someone, playing it forward in time, and realizing that we don't actually end up together, we want different things in life, at least in my head (but what do I know?)  This may be why I am single.  I was telling all this to the woman who gave me the comp, during intermission, she thought maybe that's what it was supposed to do.  I don't know, I did listen as well, it was an interesting composition, there wasn't an obvious "thru-line" (or theme) that you could follow (there was one, but it was underneath the other sounds.)

I saw three plays earlier this week: Chorestia by Beth Raas-Bergquist, dir. by Jenifer Ross and Steven Sterne, at The Ballard Underground/Ghost Light Theatricals; Eat Cake by Mx Seth Tankus, dir. by Catherine Blake Smith, at Annex; and Force Continuum by Kia Corthron, dir. by Malika Oyetimein, at The Jones Playhouse (UW), PATP.  In the final scene of Eat Cake, where everything has gone to hell, and the couple (Ariel, played by Kamaria Hallums-Harris, and Addison, played by Julie Hoang) who were about to be married call it quits, the mother (played by Amontaine Aurore) asks them (and all of us, really) to imagine life going forward into the future after the break-up, what about the next day, and the next month, and ten years from now, and...and they realize that on their death beds, they would want each other there, and I'm thinking, "man, if everyone thought that through, would anyone ever break up?"  This was still fresh in my mind when I was listening to The Topography of Desire.

With lobby lights flashing their final warning to go back to your seats before the second half of the program begins, I made a reach for a final slice of cheese and found myself next to the composer so I asked him to repeat what he'd said earlier about the "poetics of..." because I wanted to remember, and he said, "The poetics of the near miss (because that's more interesting than the far miss.)" Or something to that effect, and I ran to get back to my seat before the music started again, because I had to crawl over people.  For the remainder of the concert I tried to remember, and chided myself for not thinking to bring a pen with me.  Also, fantasized about cheese.  Not to disregard the music, the music was lovely.  I just like cheese, and the taste was lingering in my mouth.

Monday

So, I got a message from the doctor this morning, they didn't find anything obvious (good news, for sure) and suggested I go see a naturopath.  I respect him for that, not the expected response.  I asked my friend yesterday what happened, I had asked beforehand that she be in the recovery room when the doctor spoke to me, because I assumed I wouldn't remember anything.  Which, of course, I didn't.  Apparently, I carried on an intelligent conversation with the doctor, of which I remember nothing.  So, if you are ever on those dis-associative drugs, have someone else in the room with you.  Honestly, my ability to remember fully came back around 3 pm, and yet, I guess because you can carry on conversations, they will have them with you, and you probably will not remember it.

And still, was this even necessary?  It was expensive, invasive, and I'd been feeling a lot of anxiety from the urgency the doctor seemed to have about my having this done.  I'm glad to know I can let that worry go now, but I still have to figure out how I'm gonna pay for it.  And I still don't know what's wrong with me.

Think I need to go out and see some live theatre this week...feels like it's been a while.

Saturday

My motivation level has been to go take pictures of birds, and finally make nettle pesto; not bad, but the garlic I used was super strong!  I like it better than basil pesto, and it stays brighter green.  (It was nettles (blanched, of course), kale, garlic, pistachios, parmasean, lemon juice, olive oil, and salt.  And since we don't have a food processer, used a hand blender, turned out better than when I tried to use a regular blender.)  Lot of baby birds.  Still the same group of baby geese (six) I've been seeing around for the past couple of weeks, finally beginning to flap their nascent wings, last week they sorta' hung there uselessly.  Ducklings have a frantic, busy-ness about them, goslings just seem meandering and cheerful.  (I mean, just look at that face!)

Baby Geese, April 23/L Herlevi 2016

The carp were thrashing about all over the lake yesterday, mostly keeping the ducks out of the water.  Less so today, and the ducks still leaving the water, the geese remaining, but acting annoyed.  Soon the carp will disappear, going to lurk at the bottom of the lake again, until next spring.

Didn't go to work yesterday, had felt pretty bad until I fell asleep around 1 am, headache and my heart pounding, though by 6 am, felt more normal.  I missed the phone call from the doctor's office, so didn't get around to asking about that, assume it was one of the IV drugs, possibly combined with the coffee.

Gonna go conduct interviews for the project we've been talking about forever, finally starting it today.  Yay!

(And after watching these awful casting listings, really grateful for the script I'm working on in class: a female lead, non-specific type or age, that is neither (primarily existing to be) a love interest nor trying to be a love interest.  Thank you! - I don't mind a strong love interest, but the "must be sexy, 20 years younger than the male lead, and not speak" thing is uh, yeah.  Probably not why we study acting.)

Over with

The procedure itself went well, the person before me was late, so they took me in early.  They'll call tomorrow, some sorta' inflammation.  Another friend was in the waiting room when I got there, coincidence, I think, but she's someone who's always looked out for me, met her in the early nineties, having the two of them there made me feel safe.  Everyone was kind.  No idea how I got my shoes back on, was still woozy when they discharged me so someone wheeled me to the car, but got into the house alright, promptly fell asleep.  In and out of consciousness with the radio on, hearing that Prince had died.  What a talent.  Much like Bowie, he was always working, never resting on his laurels, ever evolving musically.  RIP.

"Purple Rain" came out when I was in high school.  Still love that album; played him at every school dance, everyone dancing like fools.  The radio has been playing Prince (and related) music all day...so much music.  So good.

They gave me a handout with little (yet very good) photos of my innards, with codes of where they were taken.  I'll know when I know.  No idea what "normal" is supposed to look like.

Got up earlier to go get some coffee to see if it would get rid of the headache, it did temporarily, though it has returned.  Sat out in the sun and wrote.  Quite warm again.  Large fish swimming in the clear, shallow water.  I suppose it's spawning season, but they were just hanging out, carp, I think.  Massive.  People out boating, people sunbathing on the lawn.  Feels like summer.  I need a nap.

After class

Feeling calm.  My boss said I could take Friday off if I wanted, said it's better to know and do something than to not know.  (And I didn't even cry...even if I do tend to the morbid.)

Went for a long walk in the Fill during lunch, not a lot of birds around, but the sun and the leaves and the scent of the plants was glorious.  I had closed my windows this morning because there was a slight chance of thunderstorms in the forecast, and I had class tonight.  And it was around 80 again today.  They're open now, a breeze is blowing through them, and a storm is moving up near Tacoma now, so I will need to close them again, but not quite yet:  the house is stuffy, and the breeze is very pleasant.

We only went through the rewrite in class 1x tonight.  Enough for more info for further rewrites, and to figure out how it ends.  It's going in yet, another new direction, but I like it.  We can't rehearse for at least a week as one of the actors is out of town.  Guess I can try to figure out this character more in the meantime.  Maybe I'll work on audition stuff, too, I finally was able to rejoin TPS, so am getting audition listings again.  (And I need a new headshot, since I no longer look like my old one, having chopped all of my hair off since then.)

I wonder how soon I have to stop drinking?  I should probably look that up...I'm hungry, so I'm avoiding the kitchen so I don't distractedly eat something...I think I'm past that point.  It'll be nice to have this over with and be home again.  Now that I think about it, I don't remember anything else about the last time I had to get this done after running into the house.  9:30.

Hot

They switched rooms and invited the actors tonight, afterall.  Five directors, six actors, and one auditor showed up.  I stayed for all of it (it's only two hours), sweltering as it was in the theatre.  Almost 90 degrees today.  (Now that I'm home, house is sweltering.  Sleep might be out of the question.)

I wanted to hear the critiques, and we were toward the end, but I stayed for the last two as well; I like seeing what works and what doesn't work, in terms of:  story, arc, acting, choices, relationships, camera angles and shot choices, etc.  I find it useful.  I also like being in the theatre, it's the one place where I'm completely focused, my mind doesn't wander, I'm totally present.

Feeling a bit scratchy, not a good week to get sick, both because of the stomach thing, and because it's supposed to be hot again tomorrow.  My housemate had a fever over the weekend, probably a flu or something.  Maybe it's just the pollen I'm feeling.

We have an in-class rehearsal on Wednesday, think that'll be with some major rewrite.  I came up with a new backstory, the other one won't work with the rewrite.  I hope we get a chance to run it a couple times before filming again, to see what the flow is, and to connect to each other, because one of our critiques was that we weren't.

Sunday, trying to not freak myself out

Nothing like the tedium of the democratic process and Robert's Rules of Order to knock me out of my obsessive morbid thoughts regarding the stomach biopsy.  I'm still freaked out about it, really hoping for a damaged vocal chord, an ulcer, or a hernia or something, but of course my mind goes completely to "Oh, god, I'm dying of cancer!"  Which isn't helped by the fact that my coworker just died of esophageal cancer at age 52, and she's one of five that I've known of recently.  So, it's unfortunately on my brain.  Anyway, that's Thursday, wish me luck, or something.  The woman who's taking me, and staying with me, asked me if I was nervous...um, terrified, at times, though not always.  I tell myself worrying doesn't actually help, though the lizard part of my brain still freaks out.

Anyway, four hours of the caucus was a welcome distraction.  Over 300 people vying for 31 delegate spots for the next level of the process.  And they all got 20 seconds to pitch for themselves.  We were halfway through the women (identifying) candidates when I had to leave (we chose 16 women and 15 men).  All the women seemed worthy, and I voted for the men randomly.  We had to be out of the space by 6 pm.  I think I left at 4:45, we didn't start hearing the potential delegates until just after 4 pm, I had to get home as a friend was picking me up to take me to this benefit dinner.  I just got home from that.

It was a fundraiser for the Elizabeth Gregory Home, the 10th annual dinner.  My friend bought my ticket, though I did end up donating, as I got my tax return this weekend.  I was on a program committee years ago, before it was built, when we were trying to decide what we wanted to achieve.  Our dream at the time had to be scaled back, but little by little, the offerings are growing, for instance, they just added a wellness center, and showers (a very rare thing if you're living on the street.)  Anyway, that took my mind off of my own problems as well, and I liked seeing how much the community of support has grown, it started out as just our church supporting it.  (There is transitional housing for women, plus a drop-in day center with a kitchen, laundry, showers, space to rest, people to talk to, access to services to help get back on your feet, and somewhere to belong.  A place where you are not invisible.  A place that's safe.  A place where you matter.)

We did our first go-round of filming for the final projects last night.  All in a studio, and one of the actors had something come up, so one of the other actors played two parts.  It's mostly just for story structure, so, while it's amusing that one character is played by two different actors (because we shot part of the footage with all four of us last week), the gist is there.  The directors will see them tomorrow night, and then rewrite, and we will rehearse on Wednesday in class.  I think our director will send us an edit of the film tonight to see, to get a sense of what is coming across, since we won't see them in class (I think the Monday night room is too small to accommodate everyone), the actors usually only show up on Wednesdays.

The film process is interesting, in that you make character choices as for stage, but unlike stage, which has a character arc you can follow while you're performing it, film is often shot in chunks of a few lines, and out of sequence, so the arc is broken up.  I don't know if one is better than the other, but they are different ways of working.  Anyway, curious to see how it fit together in the end.  We're filming at least two more times in class, and then again for the final.

I suppose it's too late now to drop off overdue library materials...just haven't been home long enough to do it.  Mañana, it is.

(6 am, just saw the footage:  That was hilarious with the same actor playing both parts.  R's gonna say I was "pushing," I agree, mostly too hot emotionally.  Not enough nuance.)

Enough

The wisteria entwines the porch of the roofless house.  Blooming because that's what it does, regardless of an immanent demolition, for some sorta' mixed-use box.  The sun is out, a slight chill, but everything seems to have busted out in flower: roses, dandelions, lilac, hyacinth, tulips, dogwood, azaleas, rosemary...flowers, flowers, everywhere.

Took the day off having felt worse the longer I was up this morning.  Still have the headache.  Briefly walked out to get coffee, and to sit on a bench in the sun to write out the script dialogue for clarity, and because I need to get it down.  The director had said we didn't need it memorized by last night, and I didn't, but wish that I had: I work better if it's memorized.  So, that's my goal before we shoot the rest of it this weekend, that, and writing a backstory for the character.  Went grocery shopping, did laundry, made soup, and walked to the chiropractor and back, but still have the headache.  Decided today would be a good day to start eating turmeric.  Not bad.  Tried it raw, fingers yellow, teeth probably yellow.  Threw some in a pot of soup...everything stained yellow, though not unpleasantly so.  The woman bagging my groceries was excited that I bought it, gave me tips on using it.

Last night, instead of memorizing my script (I spent a lot of time stretching actually, had a wicked foot cramp that felt like someone had slammed the bottom of my foot with a 2x4), had a conversation with some other actors about Meisner.  One of them used the term "magic" to describe when you connect on stage (or in rehearsal.)  I'd forgotten about that, the term, not the connection (had moments of it both in the Macbeth work and in the film.)  Used to say that quite a bit up until recently.  We talked about "chair work" and how we'd fall in love with everyone.  That's not really a secret, I remember someone else mentioning it in class.  How it can feel so sudden when the work is done and they are gone (an unexpected feeling of loss), like an unexpected break-up.  But that wasn't real, the break-up, though the connection was.

And then talking to someone else about wanting depth.  Real connection, real conversations about things that matter.  Talking about what's in your heart.  Drowning in polite conversation (which absolutely has it's place in life), and starving to be known and loved as you are when everything else is stripped away.  When the image shaped so carefully on social media gets removed.  Finding when we are brave enough to be emotionally naked, we are still enough.  We were always enough.

Procrastination

Got a new script this morning, doing preliminary filming of a scene tonight (for final class projects)  We met last night to talk about what made sense or not.  To try to figure out some sorta' backstory.  I find (in everything) that I tend to want a lot of information before making a decision, which works for purchasing something, but not for working on a script.  I mean, it's better to make any decision and try it and fail, than to not have a point of view.  I'm working on it, all this is good for me, to work through the paralyzing perfectionism.  I try to practice cold reading for the same reason.  It's not life or death, it's okay to be "wrong."  You know, you just choose differently, or the director asks you to change it.  And if I tell myself that enough, maybe I'll live as if I believe it.

Went to this "Bard in a Bar" Hamlet event on Monday, the last in the series, connected with the "First Folio" exhibit at the library.  There were a lot of people there, I went in assuming it would be hard to get to read because everyone else would be vying to read...nope.  Maybe 20-25 people participated, tops.  The woman who put it on was great, and everyone read the "To be or not to be" speech.  (As aside, I just read this advice for choosing monologues that said you should never piece together text to put a monologue together-not everyone feels this way, and you almost have to for women if you want to find an active monologue-, and that a woman should never do a male monologue from Shakespeare, which, again, Shakespeare casting is pretty fluid, so at this point, it's conceivable for a woman to be cast as Hamlet.  I'm guessing the advice is outdated, or at any rate, only one casting director's opinion, so I guess if you audition for him, don't do those things.  I mean, if you can own it, why not?)  People did short scenes, and then there was a synopsis, and then another short scene, etc...Anyway, I got Hamlet near the end, and my friend got Laertes, so we got to have a fight over the grave of Ophelia.  Later, I thought we should've fought like boxing rabbits, the Three Stooges came to mind.  It was all very non-serious, non-precious.

I'm writing to procrastinate dealing with medical bills.  I did open it, saw the amount.  I can submit a medical reimbursement, I just have to get the amounts to match (they were all submitted twice.)  I'll feel less stressed if I just do it...and yet, I back away from it like it's a venomous animal.  Curious.

(Wow.  The most expensive thing on the bill was for an off-the-shelf hand splint, $500.  Would've been $30 in a drug store had they had them.)

Random animal stories

At a party earlier this evening, someone told me to step back, that a spider had run out and stopped between my shoes.  I did, and a large spider sat there, everyone looking down at it, someone calling it a Hobo spider.  I don't know what it was, but it held its ground when I tried to get it to run off before someone stepped on it.  (And it seems that Hobo spiders are very difficult to tell apart from similar spiders without a microscope, so who knows what it was?)

A friend told me a story about finding an possum in his bed, and originally thinking it was his cat, actually petting it to get it to settle down, apparently, it was trying to burrow, and calling it by the cat's name until he saw his cat staring back up at him from the floor.  Seeing the cat, he threw back the covers, scaring both himself and the possum.  The latter crawled under the bed, hissing, and refusing to be lured, coerced, or forced out of the room, and since he couldn't get it to leave, my friend went and slept on the couch, leaving the patio door open.  By morning it was gone.

Another friend had mentioned waking up from a nap and finding a giant spider on the pillow.  She jumped out of bed to show her husband, and by the time she came back, it had gone.  When she was going to bed later, she looked all over for it, not wanting to be surprised again, but had no luck, until, she found it on her nightstand, hiding inside the hollow part of a ring.  She took it outside.

Friday

Walking post-sunset, the colors in the sky beginning to drain down to luminous star-filled black; the air still warm from the sudden spike to 80 degrees earlier in the day; insects swarming happily in high columns in the air; the tinned music of an ice-cream truck cuts through the din of traffic.  I turn a corner and come upon it, the sound almost deafeningly loud when I cross in front of it.  The trees all in abundance of leaf and flower, the impending approach of summer in the air, though still two months away on the calendar.  There is a feeling of joy, and rightness in the world, in the moment.

Finally asked a friend outright if she'd pick me up from the hospital.  She had once mentioned out of the blue, that if I ever were in need, she does that sorta' thing, so I'm taking her up on it.  I have a couple of back ups in a pinch, but it has to be someone I trust, and who knows where I live.  And I need to give whomever it is the right to make decisions for me, I think.  Last time I had this done, I was still in and out of consciousness when they released me; I remember bits of things: I remember introducing two people to each other in a stairwell; I remember wanting to get home quicker so I wouldn't vomit in the car; I remember running into the house.  This time I was told they'd give me anti-nausea medication:  it's a longer drive.  Anyway, I called and scheduled it.  Still scared, but I guess I need to have this done.

For the record, what I'd said, in reference to people getting outraged and posting nasty comments after only reading a headline, but not accompanying articles, was that they got "their panties in a bunch."  In my head it's the equivalent of "up in arms" (though not quite the same), "knickers in a twist," or "bee in their bonnet," though I suppose the last of those could also be deemed sexist, since men don't tend to wear bonnets.  Could I have been more pc?  Probably.  I usually tend to say it in reference to crows when they get all riled up.  Peace.

Not that bad

I had a woman basically call me out for what she perceived to be a sexist (toward women) comment this morning, demanding that I never say it again.  My first reaction was to cower (as usual) and to then try to defend myself, but eventually, I started to wonder why I legitimize everyone else over myself, in the process not owning my own thoughts or opinions as being as worthy as someone else's...I mean, I don't find it sexist in the slightest, I didn't intend it that way, in the context of how it was used, it wasn't referring to one gender over another...and, Am I not also a woman?  Is my opinion as a woman somehow less than hers? (Am I less of a woman?  Am I less valid?  Do I matter?)   Eventually, I came around to, "Yes, I am.  And, no, it's not."  So, I guess I'm glad she pushed the button that brought me to the conclusion that I don't always need to be last; to always honor my own thoughts last.  And I'm not gonna meet her demand to never repeat it.  We've got different baggage, and that one's not mine to carry.  And I don't always need to feel so damn guilty for everything.

The film ended up working out.  Came across way more subtle than it felt at the time.  The instructors spent a lot of time talking about set-up and story and the way it was shot, and then with one of the actors (the one that filled in).  (And the concept that actors need to be director-proof, that you continue to try things, make decisions for your character even if you don't feel like you had direction.  It's part of your job.)  So, not much to the other three of us regarding our acting in the scene.  One of the instructors did lean over after the critique and tell me he thought I did a good job with it; I'll take that, though specifics are always good.  There was a better take, I think, at the end of the night we shot, but the director used one that flowed better overall because he was trying to shoot it in one take to see how that would work.  I liked the way I moved, I thought there was a certain loneliness in it.

Screening

Somewhat nervous about seeing the films tonight.  I've gone from romantic lead to someone who coughs (ahem) up money after swallowing it to de-escalate a fight.  Don't really want to watch myself fake vomit on film, or that be the last picture in a director's mind when they are casting.  Oh, well.  Perhaps it's not that bad.  (It's what I was asked to do.)

Stuff

My back has been miraculously better since the weekend I worked on the Burien film.  Had been hurting off and on since before Christmas.  I found my wallet.  And I re-signed my lease, because while it's more than I want to pay, the location is still good, and when I looked again on Craig's list, rents were unconscionably high, we're talking $700-$800 for a room in a shared house.  Our kitchen is literally falling apart, and I share a bathroom with six people, though thankfully, we don't have ants, roaches, or rats (had really bad ant problems in two previous houses.  Seemed impossible to get under control.)  But the rent is $675, and that seems high, wages are not keeping up with cost of living.  Been hearing people across a wide spectrum of age and incomes talking about leaving.  I'm not sure where to go, my life is here.  Just about everyone I care about is here.

Made it through my second doctor appointment I was nervous about.  Took a month to schedule the dang thing (mammogram) because I was having pain (for the past year) and so I needed a referral and was having difficulty with my doctor's office in getting one, but after all that hassle, it just ended up being a regular one, although, it did hurt like hell this time.  And to the technician's "Hold your breath," I wanted to reply, "Lady, you think I've been breathing?!"  No, I have not.  But refrained, she might've kept the pressure on longer.  TMI?  Every woman over 40 has to go through this.  (It was normal.)  Perhaps the lingering pain is actually my rib cartilage.  Perhaps I should stop carrying a so much stuff around every day.

Having my hair short makes me feel liberated somehow.  Think I'll keep it this way for the foreseeable future.

Here are some tree shadows, for more randomness.

Shadow Puppets, March 31/L Herlevi 2016

Shadow Puppets, March 31/L Herlevi 2016

One more done

The rain has returned, making a popping sound as it lands outside my window, I suppose I should close it.  It had barely started to spit down when I left the studio space, and I ran for the first bus, and missed it.  The second bus came a few minutes later, and by that point it had started to pour.  Closer to home, just beginning to hit the hot pavement, that smell a college friend called "ozone," and his favorite.  I think that every time I smell it.

We shot our one-minute, generative scene tonight.  Ended up in a studio as location was an issue due to the use of weapons.  The original actor a part was written for never did turn up again, though someone said he posted something on facebook, so, hopefully he's still alive.  Anyway, another actor stepped in, so the idea changed, as he wasn't the one it had been written for.  (I think the concept for the project was that the directors were assigned actors and had to write a scene with those particular actors in mind...not sure how I got a "disturbed" individual written for me...oh, well.)  We did get it cut close to a minute, so a lot of the dialogue was dropped.  It all worked out in the end.

The original actor is good, but man, if you get hired, you gotta show up (or call, or something.)  Two directors wanted to cast him in final projects but he wasn't there for the readings, and I'm not sure I'd take the risk.  There are 23 other actors in the program, the majority of whom want to work, and are showing up.  I believe in second chances, but if you've got a deadline, you gotta work with people who show up.

Anyway, we'll see these on Wednesday and then the next two months are for work on the final projects.  And tomorrow is my first "free" Monday evening in ages (relatively speaking, I have a meeting at 5:30, but I'll get home before 11 pm.)

Saturday

The film festival ran a little late, so didn't get home until almost midnight, though thankfully, ended up getting a ride home, so didn't have to catch a bus.  Had to be at a mandatory gardening meeting at 9 am this morning.  Just got home from the garden.  The meeting was cold and long, but there was food and coffee...so, it wasn't a bad meeting, just a rather cold morning to stand and listen for almost two hours.  Then I spent three hours pulling weeds and turning in the manure that I dumped there a few weeks ago.  Note to self to not let irises go to seed, and if they do, don't leave them there to overwinter.  Got most of them out.  Planted some lettuce for good measure.  Donated the rest of my collards to the food bank, or at least I told one of the women that works the food bank plots to harvest it and donate it.  I just don't think I'll make it back before the drop off (they donate Tuesdays, if I harvest it today it would be gross by Tuesday, sitting in a hot shed and decomposing.)

The other day, as I was walking home, a man approached me and asked me for bus fare.  Then he mentioned something about his heart, and proceeded to lift up his jacket and showed me his scars (from heart surgery.)  I gave him some change, and then as I was walking away, I thought about how much his face was sweating, and it was warm out, in the high 60's, but was that enough?  I dug through my bag and found more change, that I hoped would make up the rest of the bus fare.  When I turned around, he was following behind me at a distance, I gave him the rest of the change and left.  I don't know where he went after that.  There wasn't really any one else around for him to ask, and though I lean toward the "broke" end of things most of the time, it wasn't really that much.

I was asking a friend what  type of lightbulbs to buy now (because I haven't had to buy any in a while, usually my landlord takes care of that, but my light has been burned out, and I was just gonna change it myself, and when I went to the store, all they had were halogen bulbs, so I didn't buy any.)  Anyway, she just gave me one.  A very random moment.  And things wash out in the end.

And the last three people I've spoken to (my ride home last night, and two of the women I garden with) all spoke to me about anti-inflammatory diets.  I need to change my life.  I don't want to spend my future immobilized with pain and deformed joints.  I don't want to be sick.  If I'm getting a message that strongly, that many times, I need to listen to it.  Today turned sunny and warm with birds singing, and trees and flowers in bloom against a bright blue sky, and anything feels possible.  Also, one of the women has been offering her help for awhile, I should swallow my pride and take her up on it.  I always assume (somewhat wrongly, I suppose) that people offer things they don't actually mean, because it sounds good in the moment, and there is some of that certainly, but there are also people that genuinely mean it.  There is a message out in our world that to ask for help is to be a burden, you see it in attitudes toward people down on their luck all the time.  The whole "pull yourself up by your own bootstraps" thing, which is largely a myth for most people.  There are some people who made it on their own, but most people had some help.  For me to ask for help makes me feel like I'm not enough.  It's a lie, I suppose, but it's got staying power.  (Reinforced daily through negative comments on social media, and through laws being passed across the country.  Don't get sick.  Don't lose your job.  Don't need help.  Don't ask for help.  Don't be poor.)

The film.  I'm happy with the way it turned out.  I guess it was long, so it was heavily edited (and still at the 7-minute limit), and that changed the story.  It previously ended with my asking him to stay, and him walking away, now it ends with us kissing on driftwood at the beach, so, amibiguous.  Two of my longer speaking bits got cut.  I was mostly looking at him when I watched it except the last shot.  And while I think I looked somewhat crazy, due to the angle of my face and where my eyes were looking (you could see a lot of the whites of my eyes), I do like my acting okay, and I like the way I delivered the lines.

We didn't win anything, but it was solid.  The lead actor in our film was in two films, and won best actor for the night.  He was good in ours, but fantastic in the other.  (His other film took the top prize.)  It's funny, I had seen him in a show shortly before my friend asked me to do this film, and if you'd asked me who I'd want to work with in town, he'd a been pretty high up on the list.  I hadn't actually thought I'd have the opportunity that soon.  Life is a surprise.