What a year. A full twelve, arduous months of pivots, exhaustion, tragedy, angst, joy, love and gratitudes.
Forcing us into resilience, compassion, and an acknowledgement of our extreme need for one another.
In the midst of the chaos and unreliability of business roll-coasters, unemployment, disease, and wildfires, on days I’ve wanted to explode, the only constant, grounding stability has been love, family, friends and community.
And maybe that’s all there ever is or has been. The rest is an illusion.
It’s the final day of 2020 and the final day of my 365 day blogging challenge. I did it. I…
The first year chronicled the April 2019 premiere and the Summer 2019 national release tour as we drove cross-country in an RV screening in 60 cities over 10 weeks.
In Fall 2019, we partnered with domestic, theatrical and foreign distributors and planned to release theatrically in the US on March 20.
In 2020, my word of the year was Connect. This coming year, it is Space. Not the starry space. And not as Flannery laughed, “give me space.”
But Space as in — Create Space for More.
I love projects, and in 2020, I took on many: a streaming service, the release of Phoenix, Oregon, a new house, fire relief, gardening, agency work, etc.
With each new project, my habit is to leave debris — a trail of tasks behind me. They are tasks I don’t want to do, “wastes of time” left incomplete.
These tasks haunt me, bury me. I’m…
Usually, I choose a word of the year. It’s a new year’s resolution without the laundry list of tasks. A theme.
This year of covid, my word was Connect — which now feels ironic since we spent the year holed up in tiny offices peering at 13 inch flickering rectangles.
Somehow it worked though. And strangely, between Zoom and mini-blogs, I was brought a little closer to strangers — out of my private, turtle-shell.
I’ve worked from home for ten years — on the other end of conference calls. Hidden.
Zoom and covid unceremoniously crashed my introverted world.
Having almost completed my first 365 day challenge, the question that keeps pounding at my mind is this:
Now that I’ve shown myself I can commit, what is the one thing I could do every day that would most impact my life?
And impact my life towards what? My goals, love, care, family, relationships, growth?
Do I really know?
Was the blogging such a thing? Was its impact any more than showing myself I could keep a commitment?
Possibly not. And maybe that will be enough. …
Once Christmas is over, my mind immediately goes towards planning, hoping and dreaming for the new year. This last week always feels so quiet, restful and slow.
Last year, I had big plans and dreams. Most were upended. So much has changed, and I’m not sure what I’ve learned. I’m still in the middle. I can’t wait to look back six or twelve months and see that I’ve changed, grown. But some days I worry that I’m becoming less resilient, more fragile, less wise.
When I was younger, I used to watch the faces of women and men in their…
Grateful today for friends and family. Those in my home, those I can only wave to from across the street, and those hours away who would usually be close.
Covid closes in. Friends of friends and friends of family have died or are very sick. We’re careful but maybe not careful enough. Days like today, I feel like returning to the seriousness of March when the streets were a ghost town, we stocked up and stayed in for weeks, held our breath in the grocery store and saw no one.
We’re so used to it now — the rhythm and…
As work wraps for the holidays, we naturally start to plan for and dream of next year. Trips, events, strategies, new films, career growth, and getting organized.
Phoenix, Oregon still has some life in it, and we’ll see that through. Theatrical-At-Home is still chugging along with basically the same features and foundation as when it began in March 2020. It could use some dusting off, upgrades and automations.
After mostly remote work this year, we dream of being on set again. …
stomping in with a big ho-ho
boots sloughing snow
gloved hands wiping ice
from hat and beard
a huge red sack
slung over his back
seated in the corner chair
belly heavy and full
children gathered round
while he told the christmas story
and handed out gifts
to each of us by name
as quick as he came,
he’d be gone…
back to his reindeer he’d say
daddy, daddy did you see santa? he was here!
but dad had gone out for firewood
and just missed santa
those christmas eve parties
with laughter and friends