Time On Its Side

Post-production ain’t no joke.

Hello. It’s been awhile. Not as long an interval between the last ones, a month ago, and the one before, three months ago.

Man; why do I always come to this blog so somberly? Maybe because in my other outlets I’m cultivating a more upbeat, outgoing persona. Perhaps the blog here is my introvert retreat.

It has been an incredibly busy month. I finished up my second semester at the ACM, Stormy turned one, Jenny’s found a new career opportunity, I started recording interviews for my new podcast, we’re still getting settled in to our new place, and we’re throwing a little housewarming bash tomorrow.

Also, I’ve continued developing stories, gotten ideas for some new ones, trying to figure out the direction for Phazon Media and get that off the ground, and getting creative in finding sources of income.

Interviewing the folks for the podcast has been fun. And one thing I thought would happen is happening. As we’re sharing our stories with each other, they enjoy having the opportunity to share and I’m getting some good inspiration and examples to model my work ethic and direction after. They’re all self-starters. They figure out what they want to do – always with some kind of struggle and challenge at first – and go after it.

Sometimes – oftentimes – I wish success would come a lot faster, though. Patience is definitely required. And for every new idea I have, I have older, started-but-not-finished ideas that whisper in my heart: “Complete me.” And I have slowly begun to do just that.

Last month I entered the Imagine Dragons/Adobe Premiere editing contest. I started on it, almost gave up, but at the last minute got a second wind and finished the dang thing. I didn’t win, didn’t make the top 25 even, but in the time that I had (less than a week), I’m pretty proud of what I came up with.

In one of my classes, we were all involved in our final group projects. We were divvied into groups of three; I was really happy about one of the guys in my group; of the other I was dubious. Turns out my gut was right. And the one dubious dude was supposed to be the facilitator of the group. Thankfully, the other guy and I were so on the same page we were able to carry the load and, for our parts at least, ace the project. …and that felt super good.

And then this podcast stuff. To make it sound as good as possible, it takes work. Each interview averaged to about an hour and a half. Set up takes, well, about 15 minutes and about that long to tear down if I’m in a hurry. But then all the post work. I’m not editing the interviews, but making sure the levels are good, recording the intros and outros, finding the right music, etc; that took me about six hours yesterday. Granted, the first episode took the longest because that’s when I was figuring everything out, but excepting that, I figure each episode takes about an hour in post.

So, while it’s fun, it’s not easy. And we’re talking 3-4 hours to produce about an hour and a half’s worth of content.

And then the idea of producing a short film…

Kelsie, my second podcast guest, used every day of spring break for her principal photography. Then it took from March to April to finish a rough cut. Now she’s shooting pick-ups. And she has a crew.

Marcelo, my third guest, is shooting a feature over the course of many months, only shooting two nights a week.

Jana, my first guest, is shooting a feature as well, doing mostly overnight shoots.

This shit takes time!!

To create something takes a lot of time. I know this; I’ve known this; but it’s something I need to remind myself of frequently.

Shoot; raising Stormy takes time. The little bugger is growing so fast, but it takes time spent with him to make a difference in his life. He’s so freakin’ cute right now, and snuggly and cuddly, but he won’t be that way forever. He’s already getting more independent, wanting to do stuff on his own, using adults as vehicles to get to where he wants to go only because he’s been walking for almost two weeks now.

Soon he won’t even need a bottle at all, and he won’t be falling asleep when I carry him because he’ll just go to bed and fall asleep there. Next thing you know, it’s high school graduation and off to college.

Well, there you go. I hear Jenn’s alarm going off now; that’s all the time I have for this entry, time to help Stormy wake up.

Thanks for reading! You’ll hear from me again soon.

2016 Reflections

It’s been quite a year.

A lot of folks think it’s been a terrible year. The world has lost many worldwide famous entertainers as well as close, personal loved ones. Even now, as the clock ticks down to midnight on the east coast, I’m seeing new Facebook posts pop up from folks whose relatives or family members have passed on to the next life.

I’m not going to say how people should grieve or handle loss, but for me 2016 wasn’t a terrible year, though it certainly hasn’t been without its fair share of new challenges and hard lessons.

I’d say the most significant event for me was Stormy’s birth back in April. He came a couple weeks ahead of schedule and has changed everything, and I’d change nothing back.

The second most significant event for me was transitioning out of the military and back into being a full-time student, this time in my dream major: filmmaking.

Losing that job security has had its share of stressors, but Jenn, Stormy and I are doing okay so far, and the future’s looking good so long as we’ve got each other.

I’ve learned that there’s a difference between knowing the world isn’t black and white and viewing it as such and acting accordingly.

I’ve learned that if I truly believe I am as worthy of respect as the next guy, I need to stand up for myself and understand that sometimes people will be upset when I do that.

I’ve also learned that standing up for myself doesn’t mean I get to or have to be a dick about it ( – baby steps – ).

I’ve learned and experienced a newer, deeper level of selfless love since Jenn and I became parents.

I’ve learned that though I may have missed out on friendships available over 18 years ago, under the right circumstances it’s never too late to reconnect and enjoy the good old time now rather than lamenting the previously missed opportunities.

I guess I’ve learned that redemption is divine and the mundane is sacredly profound.

I’ve learned that I have a whole lot more to learn before it’s my time to go.

Here’s to another 365ish days hurtling through the frigid vacuum of space in solar orbit on our homey pale blue dot.

Two Years

December 7, a day that shall forever live in infamy.

For me, it also lives in famy; or whatever the antonym of infamy is. Not to take away from the historical significance of what happened 75 years ago, but this also happens to be Jenn’s and my wedding anniversary.

Two years ago, on a Sunday no less, Jenn and I stood before a Hawaiian priestess in Queen Lili’uokalani park, the only witnesses being her parents and brother who was Facetimed in from New York, and were married.

When we officially broke off the engagement.
When we officially broke off the engagement.

In some ways it was just a formality as we had been happily dating since April and then together since June. But in some very fundamental, foundational ways it was a very special and significant time for us.

A lot of folks live together, never get married, and 30 years later remain just as committed as ever. Maybe we’re just old-fashioned, but from early on, we said if we were going to do this, marriage was the goal.

Two years and wow.

Two years and we have a 7-month old baby.

Life isn’t always rosy – we’re currently experiencing some of the buffeting life often brings – but gosh freakin’ darn if life ain’t just wonderful.

It’s the little hells we have to go through each day that make the hugs, kisses, and baby laughs all the more rich and illustrative of heaven.

If there’s one main thing I’ve learned in these two years is the same thing I’ve been hearing since I was a boy. My dad would tell me that “love” is spelled “t-i-m-e.” DC Talk told me that Luv is a Verb. Boston declares that love is More Than a Feeling. Holy mackerel, hand to cod if all that ain’t the ever-lovin’ truth.

I thought I could be myself when Jenn and I first started dating? Bro, you have no clue how comfortable you can be with each other after a time of living with each other and seeing one another at the worst. I’m talking…well…I don’t want to embarrass her or speak out of turn, but just as an example, earlier this year when we caught some kind of awful flu bug and were throwing up all night – I had freakin salad leaves coming out of my nose. Yeah, that’s a bonding experience.

And yeah, sometimes we get mad at each other but always end up making out up in the end.

So that’s two years down. Infinity to go*.

It started with a kiss...
It started with a kiss…

 

 

 

*once either bionic implants become readily available and/or we can upload our consciousnesses to the cloud.

Anchors, Aweigh! [Part 2 of the story of my making the best decision of my adult life]

PREVIOUS POST

Therapist-B had a more effective way of getting to the heart of the matter. I don’t know if it was because she’s a woman, or if I was better able to communicate my concerns or what, but instead of getting caught up in the guilt of porn or anything else, she saw and treated it as a sign, a symptom of something deeper.

So we just dove right in, deep down to the heart of the matter.

Now, I don’t want to get too far into the weeds of therapy here, because that’s not the point of this post (or series of posts as it may turn out), suffice to say I went into it a melancholy chronic self-loathing, manipulative people-pleaser and three years later emerged a melancholy less than chronic self-loathing, not as manipulative, people-pleaser.

The thing about therapy is, it doesn’t just make everything all better. It’s not the kind of thing where you go in all busted up with issues and come out all put together without issues. In my experience, what one comes out with is the emotional and spiritual tools and weapons to deal with the issues. I am significantly better off than I was 10 years ago, but I’m not 100% by certain standards. There are times I still find myself plagued with self-doubt, a lack of confidence, and wanting to make people happy.

OH MY GOD
2007 me – uh…searching for myself…?

What therapy helped me learn is that I am enough as-is and that I am worthy of love; love of myself, no less. After all, how can one love anyone else if one is incapable of loving one’s self? And I’m not talking arrogant assholery – again, trying not to get too deep into the weeds – but being able to care for and appreciate one’s self. For some it comes naturally. It could be genetics, a good home life, whatever. For others it’s a little more difficult for any number of reasons.
Anyway, previously I mentioned that the catalyst for all this was my 20th or so failed attempt at a significant romantic relationship. Therapy helped me be more confident, and therefore more choosy, in the romantic partners I would pursue, and to do so in a more or less healthy way.

TO BE CONTINUED…