obviously


i'm interested in what's sort of obvious. i like to make films that foreground or privilege the obvious and make of it something that is nice to see. i think this is why i worry presentation so much in terms of delivery. because it's delivery that makes, well, presentation. intellectually, it's nice to realize that this is what i'm about. creatively, it's also quite important to recognize and draw from it, from that thing you're about, from that thing found/experienced in a particular orbit of coolness where you find yourself vibrating with pleasure. my acting coach, in my first class, asked us, "do you know what you're truly about?" . . . and i think i thought she was asking if we were/are willing to do nudity.

done laughing?

i was being serious. but it is funny, and it's true that that's how my life in Utah frames up my viewfinder. because there were quite a few younger actors in the group, i simply assumed . . . and it's likely that our teacher was speaking at least in part about nudity, but i'm more certain now of what she meant (or, i'm more certain now of what it meant/means to me).

it may take forever to figure out what one is about. that's okay. i'm glad to have a strong sensation of knowing (epistemophilia) at 44 . . . feels as though i might now do something. maybe not The Most Important Something but something i can feel very good about. and this is not to say that i have not done things i've felt good about; i felt good about publishing in College English, even if my article was not universally loved, read, or recognized. i felt GREAT about my first documentary film, proposition 1984, and i felt fabulous about my little cellphone movie, metro.

here is a moment. a moment i find shortfilmworthy. @ PSU, full belly, post-luncheon (god, how i hate the word "luncheon"). peaceful. post-Marilyn Cooper's talk. questions. answers. vibing out on the conceptual. then -- people asking questions about theories of complexity and chaos and wondering if ANYONE, ANYWHERE had written about these things in terms of pedagogy . . .

. . . that was fun. i did. not. say. a. word. here's what i was thinking as i sat, exquisitely unable to speak or move or slink away from the moment:

1.) no one has read my article.

2.) no one likes my article.

3.) no one knows i'm here.

4.) everyone is avoiding mentioning my article because it's horrible (it's, um, not ?).

5.) i should cite myself.

6.) i should not cite myself.

7.) i should not say a word (see #4)

i think that i must re-create that moment. i wish i could hire Margo Martindale (see Paris J' Taime and her sublime performance that immobilized and expanded me both at the same time . . . i was a blathering mess of crazy and soul-refining tears). maybe i will do it. write it up as a short and contact her agent. obviously.

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