These Words

Original Post: 11/20/08 at 11:40AM (Written on the train ride to the airport before leaving Japan)

Ever since that day
I've thought about you endlessly
Wishing I could press my hand
On the arm of your jacket

I never wanted to love you
But I couldn't stop myself
From wanting you here and now
To walk crowded streets with

These words that I tell you
Are not what I want to mean
I get frustrated and annoyed
When the right ones are ahead of me

What I mean to say...
Is that I wish you were him
That I didn't love and resent you
For reminding me of him

Free Writing - Cookin' Time

I thought for a long time that perhaps, it would finally come to this. And-and I've mulled it over, alright? I cooked it with all the fixins and I was gonna let it blow up in your face. But then I let it cool until all the oil began to congeal. And now - now you've made me heat it up all over again! And you know what, that ain't right! Cause I got rights! I got rights to a life! I got rights to say good night and to hell with you. (beat) Cause even though I mulled this over, I'm not prepared. I'm never prepared. I try, believe me - oh, I try to the best I can. But you just muck it up. Like a kid who just..mucks it up. A kid. You're a kid. (beat) What am I saying? I think I'm saying you're immature, you need a time out, and get the hell out of my kitchen because what I'm making next isn't for you!

Change is Hard

"You shouldn’t change because someone wants you to. You should only change because that person makes you want to."

From the Camera's Angle: A Man's Apple

A man in a bowler hat and no face stands on a cliff with a green apple in his right hand and a pocket knife in his left. It is a Swiss Army Knife. He stands facing away from the precipice with his head tilted slightly up. He'd be looking up if he had eyes.

We begin to focus on the green apple, taking note of its indentations. Dark spots scatter themselves, most of them near the stem. It looks as if the man may have been pressing his fingers there. The dark spots look soft but we can't really tell. We would continue to characterize this apple more but it's moving now, distracting us. The man is rolling the apple in his hands expertly - as if he's done this many times before. He spins it slowly and drops his hand. The apple falls through the air for a split second. The man grabs the top of the stem and the apple continues spinning, its momentum twisting it. The stem is about to break. And it does. The apple flies through the air again.

And this is where the knife comes in. It punctures the apple from the top. The blade is dull so the apple barely holds on.Our focus remains on the apple and the knife. And the finger of the no-face man creeping down the exposed blade. He presses down on it. It requires a great deal of pressure but he manages to prick himself. The finger winces and retracts out of instinct, but it manages to correct itself in mid-movement. The finger reaches towards the apple. It presses down on the green skin. Lightly. Just enough to leave a crimson fingerprint.

A quick cut occurs now. Like in a movie or TV show. We've switched from being literally inches from the apple, the blade, and the finger to now looking 20 feet away from the man. We are behind him and slightly to his left. His left arm is diagonal, probably from the cutting motion of the pocket knife. We look down and realize we're not standing on anything. The man is facing away from the cliff and we're behind him. This means we're not standing on anything. It's a cartoon: the moment you notice the danger you're in, the moment that danger occurs. We fall and we grasp at nothing. The man waves with his right hand. He never looks back. Our focus moves quickly as we plummet. The precipice grows smaller, the blue ocean more encompassing. That man. Did he really not have a face?

Halfway

Original Post: 6/20/08 at 11:41 PM

I met a girl in Japan
Who let me hold her hand
We met every other day
Down by the subway train

One day I could not go
As I looked at my globe of snow
I saw her waiting by the track
Wondering if she should go back

After work, I ran to the station
Having no real destination
Wind whipped through the doors
My brown shoes slapping the floor

I stumbled onto the street
Looking at the lights before me
My hand reached up to the neon blue
I wonder if she saw it too

From the crowd, I stood
As a gentle voice cooed:

"Slipping through the doors of the train
On a one-way ticket going anywhere
I leave a note on your windowpane
Asking you to meet me halfway there"

The Party

Original post: 7/24/08 at 2:13 AM

The moment you step into a room, I know what to do. I smile, look up at the ceiling, and sink back into the couch, my eyes following you from one side to the next. And when you finally decide to sit down - after talking for hours with people - I'll sit next to you and smile while looking up. You ask me why I'm not saying anything. I tell you that I've seen you talking all night. But I guess it wouldn't hurt to share a few more words. So we talk. Until everyone leaves, us sitting on the couch, throwing more wood into the fireplace. I was cold too.

A Dull Throb

If I were to see you on the street, would it come back?
Would I remember everything?
Would it just be a dull throbbing against the wall of my head?
I wander around and I listen to the music
Only to see the shadows of time, of you
Slip through the cracks of the wall
Disappearing in the midst of painted concrete

So I keep moving, losing myself...
In you but without you.

And There It Was

Yeah, I know other directors got their cast actual edible gifts and cards (edible cards?). But screw that. This is cheaper and faster. So I started writing this on the Moleskine (so friggin' awesome) that you guys got me:

6/10/10

My first post goes out to the cast of Blueprints for buying me something my frugal self (aka cheap ass) would never buy. I thank you for the hard work you've put into this scene, especially given it was my last quarter. I thank you for doing things that are now probably extremely idiotic in retrospect. Like making Dominic propose to Carrie. Or letting people touch Ronnie. Ew.

I know I'm seen as someone people respect, but truthfully, it's only reciprocal. I respect all ofyou so much because you were so open and trusting - that was what really allowed me to direct freely. I had an amazing time directing you all because I never felt like I was the director; you guys made me part of the scene as well, absorbing me with your words, actions, expressions. It occurred on so many occasions that I often struggled to give you notes. Remember the times when I sat silently after a run-through? Yeah, I had no idea what the hell I was gonna say. You were as much of a director as me - helping me with blocking, giving me insight, and putting up with sitting in a stupid circle at the beginning of each rehearsal to discuss our feelings.

This was an extremely difficult quarter for me in many different ways and it was occasionally difficult to get through a script as complex and close to my heart as this one. I suppose that is a testament to the writer's talent. =). Anyhoo, you guys made it so easy for me and I thank you. Here are my personal shout-outs:

Nam Giao/Alyssa: Thank you never learning what self-induced analgesia was.

Patrick/Pete: Thank you for playing computer games whenever you weren't performing.

Angela/Carrie: Thank you for learning "No Scrubs" by about 9th week.

Apollo/Dominic: Thank you for the great accent in this role.

Tobit/Justin: Thank you for not infecting us with your ADD...wait. What were we talking about again? What the hell was that stain on your shirt, btw?

Alice/Ronnie: Thank you for never growing up. =)

Listen

Listen, I don't feel at home in my own home.

Serenity

Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change
The courage to change the things that I can
The wisdom to know the difference
Give me the courage to love with an open heart,
An open heart, an open heart, I wanna love with an open heart
With an open heart

Test the Faith

I'm not very religious. I was born and raised Buddhist, but I never adhered myself to a religion. Lately, it feels like the issue of Gods and deities has thrust itself to my attention, calling for me, asking for a response. Often, when something confronts me in such a sudden and unexpected manner, I don't know how to respond. I fold up, consider it in the depths of my mind, and formulate a response...which often comes too late. 


In my theater group, whenever someone needs a cold read of a priest, I am often called to read the lines. Why? Is it because of my conviction? My commanding voice? My 'Holier than Thou' demeanor? I really don't know. I guess I've just fallen into the role and went on with it without much thought.


But now I find myself wondering, "What do I believe in?" I've always been afraid of religion because I never truly understood it; I didn't understand why people would put all their faith into a higher being. Truthfully, I saw it as a sign of weakness, an easy way to answer difficult questions.


Then I realized something that was true to me. I, of all people, have so much faith. I have absolute faith in people and I put my trust in them. That people are inherently good and will eventually do the right thing. I think it was Evan Shulman, many years ago, who once told me, "I'm a humanist...I believe in humanity." And I began to take that to heart. 


Whatever you believe in, believe in it. Wholeheartedly. Believe in God and let yourself be that vessel where you sacrifice yourself for the greater good. Blessed with the ability to help others, whatever allows you to do so, believe in it. Because faith is always there. What form it takes doesn't matter because it's faith, in its purest and most genuine form, that keeps you strong.

Do It

Do it. Do what's right for you.

Ready, Steady, Stop!

"Ready, Steady, Stop!" To quote Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction, " I just thought it was some cold-blooded [stuff] to say".

"Ready, Steady, Stop!" I actually started this blog way back in September of 2009 and didn't touch it until maybe mid-February. So when I came back to it, realizing I had already set myself up with an account, I thought the name was awesome. *Taps self on back* That it was just some cool...stuff to say. It actually reminded me of a John Mayer song; whether that is good or bad leaves me nervous.

This post probably should've been my first post, but I'm going to break down the name of this blog. Sometimes, the explanation comes long after the inspiration. It's going to be a little free and probably won't be very coherent, but let's start! Ready Steady!

READY: To be ready is to be aware. Of what came before you, what lies in front of you, and what is lurking for you in the far-distant future. Then, you move accordingly. You learn through instinct what to say, what to do. It's like you're the ultimate predator. You are capable of the raw, immense power necessary to take down anything in your way. And yet, your paw can still softly pit-pat the ground as you lay in waiting for the unsuspecting prey. To be ready is to be aware.

Ready.    

Steady: Patience. It's all about patience. The patience to learn through your mistakes. The patience to allow others to learn through theirs. It is the unenviable task of waiting until the eleventh hour for an answer and by then, it might not even come. Or it is the patience of understanding that even though the answer didn't align with you today, tomorrow is an opportunity to do it all over again. These are moments of high anxiety where you feel like you have a million things to do but not enough time in the world to do it. The solution lies in patience. There is always a will, there is always a way. Stay steady, stay consistent, and appreciate the gift you've been blessed with - yourself and those around you. People who are monumentally different than you, but still stay and listen when you've lost your "Steady".

 

...Steady...

STOP: We all make blueprints for the future. It becomes our ideal, our ground plan. But the actual process itself is left up to chance and a host of other variables that we cannot or can no longer dictate. This is why we need to stop. Because we get ahead of ourselves. We think we're Ready. We think we're Steady. But we need to Stop. Because things cannot continue on in their present state. We need fluctuation. We need stakes. We need to Stop to realize that yes, we may be moving, but we're not going anywhere. And only when we Stop is when notice everything this still. And everything is decaying. So for the love of God, just Stop for a moment. And notice how beautiful you are. How quiet but melodic the music is. How much you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to hug. How amazing your friends and family are when they may not act like it. Because they forgot how amazing they are. Because other people may say they're not. But they are. Just like you. Just like me. And let that wash over you. Anew. So Stop. And just love. Love what you have. And let that be your blueprint.

...Stop. Just Stop.

The Real You

The real you will be written in a corner of a room, hidden underneath a pile of clothes. It would be an adventure to find this place, to look for something that people don't really tend to think about or considering trying to find. But it's there. In all of us. We tend to confuse it as a movement. But it really doesn't move. We, through our actions (unknowingly or even knowingly), actually move away from it as it stays still. And when we look back, the corner's gone. We wonder where it went and we hope to find it again.

Like that hotel we visited years ago, but has somehow shrouded itself through the mist of time. Gone. Replaced by illusions that are beautiful but ultimately impermanent. Non-sustaining. A costly but ignoble monument, made of fortified brick and mortar - and yet, oddly exhausted of its spirit. It leaves your mind once it's beyond your sight.