Tuesday, October 30, 2007

The Master Says 240

It's difficult to talk about these songs in depth, that's why they're songs.

Eric Clapton

Movie Star Chambermaid Gossip


Jennifer Aniston and Woody Harrelson are in town to make a film called Management.







According to sources Aniston is very down to earth. Yet rumor has it that her assistants make being down to earth all the easier. Jennifer mentioned that she didn't care for the headboards on the beds in her suite at the Heathman. Just like that they were replaced, even on the beds she's not sleeping in. She reportedly smokes one Merit Ultra Light 100 daily, you know those cigarettes that are long and skinny like the stick on a Tootsie pop. Ashtrays are conveniently placed throughout the suite so she can dispose of her tiny little ashes wherever she likes. While Miss Aniston is away on set all ashtrays are emptied and polished. The open pack of cigarettes is replaced with a fresh pack.

Mr. Harrelson on the other hand seems to live as a truly down to earth Portlander. His contract states that he is to receive no VIP treatment whatsoever. Which might include maid service as his room looks as if it were a freshman dorm. Scattered amidst the detritus is a large amount of cannabis sativa, covering several tables. Woody had a bike delivered to the hotel on his day off. He took a ride around town and out the Spring Water Corridor. His dietary needs are somewhat more demanding than his housekeeping needs. Harrelson maintains a strict diet of raw foods.

Downright Tawdry,
Signore Direttore

The Master Says 239

At bottom, I am always making the same film, to the extent that what arouses my curiosity, what interests me definitively, what unlatches my inspiration, is that, each time, I am telling the story of characters in quest of themselves, in search of a more authentic source of life, of conduct, of behavior,that will more closely relate to the true roots of their individuality.

Federico Fellini

Monday, October 29, 2007

Not So Pretty As You Please

Saw Michael Clayton this weekend. Tight bit of writing and acting. Tom Wilkinson was stellar. As was Tilda Swinton and Sidney Pollack. Clooney was mostly Clooney -- solid, smart and handsome. He took great advantage of a very well-written character. They all showed their warts and their ordinary human frailties. Enough credit can't be given to Tony Gilroy, screenwriter and first time director (in his 50s!). Actors usually bring as much humanity to their characters as Hollywood allows, in this case I feel they were more than met halfway. Clooney's Clayton seemed to have the deck stacked against him from without and while I'm tempted to say he didn't pull it off in the same subtle ways as Swinton and Wilkinson, perhaps he did all the more so. This film almost demands a second viewing. The first time for oh-so-rare entertainment, the second to better see just how well-crafted the film is.

Impressed,
Signore Direttore

Sunday, October 28, 2007

The Master Says 238

My films are not born from logic but from love.

Federico Fellini

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Waxing Ozu


The Japanese studio, Shochiku, that produced Ozu's films has opened a theme park of sorts. Ozu sits near the Mitchell on short sticks directing a scene from Tokyo Story.

The Master Says 237


I'm not sure it's not better to suffer than not to suffer. I think that in order to really are about yourself, and particularly someone else, you've got to experience suffering and really understand what it is to suffer, so that you hurt and understand what it is to hurt.

Krzysztof Keislowski

Friday, October 26, 2007

The Master Says 236

Anger and depression and sorrow are beautiful things in a story, but they're like poison to the filmmaker or artist. They're like a vise grip on creativity. If you're in that grip, you can hardly get out of bed, much less experience the flow of creativity and ideas. You must have clarity to create.

David Lynch

Thursday, October 25, 2007

The Master Says 235


I am open to what is irrational. I open doors to intuition, because rationality is really death. Nothing that happens makes sense anyway.

Jeanne Moreau

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Don't Believe The Rose City Hype

I've been exposed to a few things in the past couple of days that could lead to deeper cynicism. For the record I hope I've made it clear that I don't want to be a cynic. However. Let's just let that contraction have a sentence all to its own.
We went to see Caberet last night. Ho hum. Wade McCollum was so weak. My goodness. He was completely self-absorbed, focused on showing us what was going on with his character interspersed with sexing things up in the most unimaginative ways. One more tweak of his nipples might have had me audibly groan. When he wasn't grabbing one of the girls or fondling himself he was standing in the shadows twirling his moustache. He seemed completely preoccupied with showing what he was about rather than supporting his fellow actors and inviting the audience into the show. His mic wasn't working in the opening scene. Rather than buck up and belt it out, he stayed pretty quiet relying on being lewd and wink-wink. It would take a lot for me to see a show that this guy is in again.
Oh look the stage is rotating again! Yay, I love how it slowly turns to reveal nothing much getting exciting over. Wait for it, here comes another lifeless scene with the lifeless dweeb playing Cliff at the rooming house. Storm Large was fine as Sally Bowles. Her singing was powerful, but a bit clean and polished for her as well as Sally. Her dialect slid a bit, but that didn't bother me so much. The Kit Kat girls were fine, could have done with more of them singing and dancing and less of them standing around acting the general debauchery of Weimar. The Kit Kat boys were straight out of gay strip club, substituting gyrating buff bodies for nuance, charm and talent. Ick. The ending left me cold. Wade's intense indicating that he was smacked out and the whole listening to Hitler on the radio thing was pretty anticlimactic.
After that we went to a release party for a music video. Let me say that the director and many of her friends are wonderful people. A pleasure to see and be around. There were a number of douchebags from the local film scene there. The good thing is that I've avoided many of them for such a long time, that we're basically strangers. Whenever I'm poised to be introduced or re-introduced, I slip away. And then Portland is so small that everyone assumes everybody knows one another so introductions are rarely made. I usually stand in the presence of new faces for several minutes waiting for an introduction. When I want to meet someone I more often than not have to introduce myself. Anyway, the video was on par with some of my more mediocre productions. Things I rarely show to people let alone host a party to present. There's part of me that envies the apparent humility to put stuff out there that's so-so.
Many years ago I was struggling to become an artist, concentrating primarily on painting. I took a few art history and design classes at City College. I was friends with a number of artists. To earn a living and to distract myself, I was working in nightclubs. I was doing a lot of drinking and taking ecstasy and acid often. There were always three or four women rotating in and out of my life. It took a lot of energy to maintain my own version of Wiemar. I was successful in some regards, but ultimately a failure in the pursuit of becoming an artist on a day to day basis. One hungover morning I was describing an art installation at the club to an artist friend of mine over the phone. I really wanted to justify my debauchery to him by showing him that I was in a creative milieu at the club. He listened to me blather on for awhile and then he said in a very kind and even tone: "Neal, you're an interesting guy, but when you try to talk about art you're completely full of shit." And I was. His reproach caused me to shut up until I learned what I was talking about. Not completely of course, but it was a big step toward having some respect and humility with regard to art.
I know a guy that I would like to take to task in a similar manner. In spite of being a pretty sweet guy he sounds like a moronic poseur most of the time he opens his mouth. Somebody said about him once that it seems like he looks up the biggest word he can find in the dictionary every morning and then goes around using it in the wrong context all day. Anyway he now has a job running a campaign for someone seeking public office. I can't help but think that anybody that would believe this guy's bullshit is not someone I for whom I would cast my vote. In the event that others do elect this candidate, it's likely that Monsiuer Malaprop will earn a job as communications director in the city government.
I'm considering moving to rural Washington State with all the nonsense I've encountered lately with my son's school and the school district, the hype for mediocre theater and the likelihood of one of the most deficient communicators I know of being gainfully employed by we the taxpayers as such. Not to mention that my property taxes spiked 11.5 percent to $7000 this year and another bicyclist was run over by a large truck.

Just Another Sucker,
Signore Direttore

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

The Master Says 234


The most realistic blood I've seen is when Marlon Brando gets beat up in On The Waterfront.

George A. Romero

Monday, October 22, 2007

Some Sincere Questions

What was the long-term result of the global student demonstrations of the sixties?
(It seems to me that the most lasting effect was unabashed branding and commercial exploitation of youth culture.)

Does the near disappearance of existential angst as a theme in film and literature mean that we don't feel its effects as much?

Why aren't there more people of color in Portland given its reputation for progressive politics and culture? Are racial minorities non-progressive? Why aren't they flocking to our monochromatic rainbow-in-waiting?

Why do so many Americans actually think that all of creation happened in the past ten thousand years? (If you think this is a joke, please reconsider.) What forces have conspired to move further from a scientific view of the natural world and more towards the mythological during the past century?

Why do we cling to an education system designed to promote conformity and rote learning?

Truly Curious,
Signore Direttore

Sunday, October 21, 2007

The Master Says 233

Nobody can rip anybody off. When somebody takes something that they've seen and makes their own thing it's flattering. Nothing is original, it's all adaptation.

Robert Altman

Urgency! Poignancy! - Where have you gone?

I recently read some old posts in my blog from Spring of '06. I was really working through some stuff. While I'm sure I still have mucho stuff to work through, things don't feel as desperate somehow. It's tempting to think that I can't be as creative if I'm not feeling things with the same intensity. I have a feeling that the old saying about still waters may contain some measure of truth. I could easily measure this by my output. In 2005 and 2006 I shot two shorts and a feature. In 2007 I've shot five shorts and a feature and I actually finished one of the shorts as well as closing in on final cuts of a few others. In spite of this record of achievement I feel as if I'm not doing anything. Perhaps it is a product of my insecurities, or it may be a sort of confusion brought on by being largely free from the habit of years of angst-ridden self-loathing.
I directed a short the other night. There were a lot of things that I liked about it. There were a few things about which I was less certain. I didn't have ready answers and I didn't feel like creating any egotistical theatrics to try to effect change or absolve myself from responsibility. I've learned that whatever happens on a production is my responsibility. I may not knock the light over or be the actor unable to perform a required scene, but I am responsible for dealing with those eventualities. Let it be noted that no lights were knocked over nor was our actress unable to perform the other night. Anyway I'm more and more comfortable with that responsibility. I'm also acutely aware how difficult it is to make a good film of any length. Since I've come to understand that, I've simultaneously realized that it isn't a reflection on me if a film doesn't succeed. Maybe that's a chicken and egg type of thing - I'm not sure what came first.
Earlier in the day of our night shoot on Thursday I got an email informing me that Klepto wasn't accepted by the NW Film & Video Festival. There was a moment on set that evening when I didn't like what I was seeing and felt at a loss to correct it that the rejection came briefly to mind. A moment in which I summarily questioned my ability as a filmmaker. Then it passed and on we went.
I think I'm moving away from seeking answers and started to focus more on asking questions. The results just aren't up to me.

Letting Go,
Signore Direttore

Friday, October 19, 2007

The Master Says 232

You don't write because you want to say something, you write because you've got something to say.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

In Your Eyes



This was the exact blaster I got in 1980. I used it to tape hip-hop off of KBOO on Saturday nights. Otherwise it was tuned into KGON. At the time 92.3 FM played AC/DC and Rush as well as Blondie and Joan Jett. I was into all of the above.



John Cusack turned 45 the other day. I heard it on the radio. The other announcer shouted, "Lloyd frickin Dobler is 45!?!" It is kind of hard to believe. Say Anything was on the other end of the 80s, but it tells the story of the era very well. When I lived in NY there was a time that I hung out with Ione Skye a lot. I always wanted to find a way to tell her how much I loved Say Anything, but saying things simply and directly used to be almost impossible for me.

¡viva!
Signore Direttore

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Clio tells His Story



I'm making a short film this week called something like the title of this post. October Moore is going to tell the story of the first time I made out with a girl. She's going to dress in period costume - circa 1980 - and tell the story in the first person. The memory is not a particularly fond one. It's not humiliating or anything, just one of those haunting yet unspectacular moments that you keep to yourself. It will be interesting to hear the story from a woman. And if any residual shame produces a laugh, I will be pleased.



This project just kind of came together. I had been contemplating potential scenarios to work on with October for a couple of weeks. I saw a compelling little neo-Nouvelle Vague short from Matthew Lessner last week that inspired me to think in non-narrative terms. Then I listened to an interview with Peter Greenaway that prompted some thoughts. I wouldn't say that this short was inspired directly by either of the former filmmakers, but they made me think outside of the dramatic narrative box that I do much of my conceptualizing within.

Il Nuovo Onda
Signore Direttore

Monday, October 15, 2007

Red Desert Absentee



Forgive me father for I have cinned! I didn't keep my plans to go see Red Desert last night at the Film Center. I would have had to go by myself as nobody wanted to go. But that's no excuse, in fact it probably would have been better to see it alone. I even had free passes. I've only seen it on VHS. Who knows when I'll get another chance to see it on a big screen. Dios mio! My penance is my missed opportunity.

Molto addolorarsi,
Signore Direttore

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Into The Wild



I really liked this movie. I'm not going to say a lot about it. It's very visual and highly stylized at points, sometimes to great effect, other times to distraction. Some reviewers assert it's light on character development. I disagree. If he was going to follow some bullshit arc he would would have followed his wilderness experience with something mainstream. He would have been like the old guy book-ending Saving Private Ryan. Thank God Sean Penn is not a disciple of Spielberg.
Here's an excerpt from an article in Daily Press about Emile Hirsch's on-set experience with Spicoli: "One of the first days, Sean was absolutely relentless, having me climb up this hill," Hirsch recalls. "A crew guy tried to throw me some rope, and Sean was like, 'Don't throw him rope, you're trying to help him? Don't do that, no way!' And the rope disappeared. I went, 'Ohhhh, man.' That's when it dawned on me just how incredibly hard this was going to be. I had a conversation with a guy who had been in the Army," Hirsch continues. "I asked him about his experiences in boot camp, on the first couple of days, and he goes, 'Just look at it this way. You pushed it really far today and you're still here. Which means you can go even farther tomorrow. ... And as all the chaos is going on, keep your eye on one little thing, one little detail that you think is beautiful. ... And every so often you pick out that little thing, and that will be your peace."
Pretty good advice for even the most mundane of life's challenges. Anyway there are some very wonderful performances throughout by the supporting cast. Vince Vaughan didn't irk me for once. Katherine Keener whom I once adored and have since cringed through most of her scenes in films is adorable once more. And Hal Holbrook. Wow.
Taking nothing from the mesmerizing job Emile Hirsch accomplished, the star of the show is the open road and the wild. It really stirred the romantic in me. The things I paid attention to in the film alerted me to my own limitations now and in the past. That's all I'm going to say about that.
There was a fleeting moment in the film where all the idealistic Walden zeal got me to reject the idea of making films. Just this flash that I could not only give it up, but that it would be a good thing. So much stuff. Which was all the more on my mind as I spent a good part of yesterday going through film-related gear and papers. For better or worse, the talk in the end of needing others with whom to share our love salvaged my filmmaking career.
I'm not sure I share my love through the lens just yet or even that I'm working on it very directly. I'm open to it, that's for sure. It would be much easier to head off into the unforgiving physical wilderness than venture into the wilderness of my own heart. That's pretty much the point of Penn's film.

¡coraje!
Signore Direttore

Friday, October 12, 2007

The Master Says 231

The best stories don't come from "good vs. bad" but from "good vs. good.

Leo Tolstoy

Chain (Change) Step MARCH!

I always thought it was chain step march. It's the step in marching where you do a little shuffle in order to get back in step with everyone else. For the first time since I was in basic training way back in 1985 I questioned whether it might be change step. I Googled it and found that yes indeed I had misunderstood the garbled commands of drill sergeants for over twenty years.
I was watching Altman's 3 Women the other night as I noted in a post earlier this week. There's a quiet little moment where Sissy Spacek follows two twins away from their place of work. It's a very deep frame, the characters occupying less than a third of the screen. I noticed the twins were in step and Sissy was close behind them but out of step with them. As I said to myself, Oh she's out of step with the twins, the very moment I finished the thought, Sissy did a little skip step and fell into step with the twins. By this time they were very deep in the frame, just tiny. It was magic.

An Altman Fan,
Signore Direttore

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Monday, October 08, 2007

Notes from Imsomnia

Perhaps insomnia is a bit strong, but it is very unusual for me not to fall asleep within a few minutes of lights out. I took a nap yesterday afternoon. One of those deep sleeps that granted me a feeling of being fully rested. Later in the evening I watched a bit of the Packers-Bears game, played a video game with my son and then watched Altman's 3 Women. One would think that the slow, uneventful film would bring on slumber. It didn't, though please don't think the description of being slow and uneventful is a negative criticism. I really like 3 Women. I've watched it a few times in the past couple of months. It's subtle. Because it is so slow and reflective of its desert setting it would be easy to ignore the details. It's kind of like the way we bound through life. We overlook and subsume all the little details of our lives , giving much of our attention to the big events of the day or week. We just try to get through the dish washing and the getting dressed kind of stuff we do. We sleepwalk through our relationships, telling ourselves we can't think about that right now as we have to get ready for the next thing in our days. We blindly accept the twisted ways in which we cope with our deficiencies. 3 Women is a film that doesn't offer any easy answers or judgments. It simply allows us to observe the lives of three lonely women.
I didn't really think these things while I was watching the film. A little maybe. I was absorbed by the details of their behaviors. And I was interested in the fluid camera work. I liked the way it discovered the scenes. There were a lot of zooms hidden in the panning and dollying. They were much more subtle than in Nashville. A film scholar could probably write a thesis on the evolution of the use of the zoom lens in Altman's films of the 70s. One of the opening shots is so stunning. It pans across the therapy pool full of residents and thier caregivers at a desert geriatric facility, covering a lot of ground. I found myself focusing on a subject in the frame thinking the camera operator must be using them to motivate the move only to find the camera gently let them go and a new point of interest command my attention. The shot finally lands on Sissy Spacek and pushes into her watching the action from behind glass, revealing that what we just saw is her POV. One that we share and also view through glass. Wonderfully subtle.
One of the main themes of the film is the co-option of one character's life by another. I am fascinated by such explorations of identity and the desire to become someone else through close observation, imitation and voyeurism. It's something I've explored in almost all of my films and scripts. I know its sources in my personal life, but I won't be sharing them here. I'm reading a wonderful little book written by David Lynch. He writes the seven or eight years he spent making Eraserhead was perhaps the make or break trial of his filmmaking life. His father and brother were urging him to quit. Nearly everything in the world was telling him to give up. He read one line in the Bible that told him what Eraserhead was all about. He then simply states that he won't ever tell anybody what that passage was. Lynch's calm resolution to keep his influences private inspires me to explore my own ideas of privacy when it comes to inspiration.
Failing to fall asleep after watching 3 Women, I read the NY Times Magazine article on Todd Haynes and the making of I'm Not There. Contemplating the world of Todd Haynes fills me with a lot of conflict. I've been acquainted with a couple of people that are close to him, prompting me to feel close to him though I'm well aware that it's an illusion. A few years ago I was trying to help a friend of Todd's workshop his script. I liked the guy and I loved his script. I was in the process of moving to town and shedding a lot of ego. Of course before I could shed the ego it had to build to ugly proportions and I think that guy caught the brunt of it. We had an ugly falling out over unclear expectations. I acted like an angry jerk. I've since apologized but it's clear I broke his trust beyond repair. I found out from a mutual friend that one of the reasons the guy was being so vague about a commitment to work on his script together had a lot to do with advice he got from Todd not to give me any interest in the film. I felt the resentment I've been holding onto for the past three years slip away while reading the article. I realized that it wasn't at all personal. And that I've got a lot more to gain by paying attention to the process of a filmmaker like Haynes than holding onto a resentment for giving advice that I too might have given to a friend in a similar situation.
I recommend the article and I look forward to seeing I'm Not There. Something else came to me while reading about the making of the film. Haynes and the editor Jay Rabinowitz absorbed as much Dylan through image and music that they could. I think about the making of my last film and how so much of our energy was put into coordinating the production and the craft of filmmaking. Granted that project was conceived and produced in less than three months. I want to make sure that I allow more time to explore the storytelling aspects of my next film. I also want to develop relationships with people that are like-minded regarding the storytelling aspects of the film. I want to work with true collaborators rather than people that are just trying to get more technical experience. That includes actors. I don't know too many actors that can get beyond their process and think about the film as a whole. It may be the case that some of the actors I've worked with so far are more than capable of that but I may not have invited such a dialogue. I do know that I've often asserted a strong role as the author of the film. Perhaps that has prevented people from feeling their voice is welcome. Again the last two films were made in such a rush it's hard to tell. I'm also gaining experience and will likely be able to maintain my role as author with a more inclusive feel as I continue to make films. I do think it's an important step to take the time to find people to work with that really bring a lot to the process. Some of the people that I've already worked with will meet that challenge. It's also on me to hire people that know more than I do and learn from them.
I really admire my friend Neil Kopp. He never apologizes for not being able to pay the crews on some of the films he produces. And he doesn't take just anybody. He's always very supportive of my films and has expressed interest in producing a film with me in the near future. I only hope that he's not too busy. One of the things that is great about Neil is that he wants to be what he is - a producer. So many of us have not so hidden agendas.

¡viva!
Signore Direttore

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Ghosts of Celilo



My father and I drove through the Columbia Gorge to see his mother in Pendleton at least once a year throughout my childhood. He told me stories of visiting the Celilo fishing village as a young boy. When I stayed at my maternal grandparent's house in the Summer I often slept on a sofa in their basement party room under a photo of the fishing platforms on Celilo Falls. (My Greek grandfather was fascinated with Native Americans. He claimed to have ridden with Geronimo's gang, a family fable that one of my aunts assumed to be true and shared with her class. She was sent home for her dishonesty. Getting one of his children into hot water didn't dissuade him from sticking to his story.)
As I grow older and have resettled in my home state, my appreciation for the cultural and natural history of the Northwest increases. I was excited to see Marv Ross's play Ghosts of Celilo. It has been described as magical. Much has been publicized about the ten year process of its creation in collaboration with Natives. I was nervous about it being a musical, but I quieted my anxiety with hopes of Native song and dance. I thought that the pageantry of Native music and legend would serve to abstract much in the same way hearing a Mass in Latin serves the soul and distracts the intellect from the trite tales of Christian legends.
Marv Ross has a claim to fame with a soft-rock hit with a group called Quarterflash that was big in the early 80s. Much to my disappointment the music reflected the playwright's lite FM roots more than anyone else seems to recognize. I found the literal qualities of the writing and the music almost unbearable. Much was made of the mystery of the ghosts, but the exposition killed all the potential drama of discovery. The beauty of the sets in the opening scene were cheapened with a cheesy Star Wars style superimposed prelude. Worse yet the snippy bickering of the ghosts: Well who are you? You didn't! Yes I did! No you didn't! Okay not that base, but very close. Things didn't improve much from there. Most of the play centered in an Indian school run by opportunistic white Christians. There was a moment in the last scene of the first act where the Native American child actors sang and danced. One girl in particular experienced a touch of Lorca's duende. I also appreciated the bits of cultural history sprinkled throughout the first act. As we sat in the beautiful little banquettes in the Newmark Theatre during intermission I almost suggested leaving, but it wasn't that bad.
The second act has received praise for its brisk pacing. Admittedly it moved along in a more dramatic fashion, but a surprise romance almost made me audibly groan. I mostly checked out as I couldn't get Pocahontas out of my head.
Thankfully I was given comps for the show. I would have been outraged if I had paid for it. As it was I just grew closer to being convinced that I truly hate theater.
I truly hope that someone celebrates the wonderful story of Celilo in a more elegant rendition. Perhaps film would be a more poetic medium.

¡Viva la cinema!
Signore Direttore

Friday, October 05, 2007

The Master Says 230

Have you learned lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed the passage with you?

Walt Whitman

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Skateboarding

My son has been complaining for awhile about not having a skateboard. When I was a kid you bought skateboards at skate shops. The boards they sold at Fred Meyer were GrenTecs - total pieces of garbage closer in resemblance to a roller skate than a skateboard. I can't say why I didn't rush out to buy him a skateboard but it might have had something to do with my own fear of never being particularly good nor committed to it. Yet I must be all things to all people, so when around skateboarders I feel insecure. Even at forty. I'm not big on self-acceptance or mortality. I still secretly believe I'll get around to being good at skating, playing electric guitar and other mostly adolescent pursuits.
I know a lot of old school skaters, some of whom own shops, so I took Henry over to Rebel Skates to look at some boards. I ended up buying him a nice set up and a long board for myself. I've wanted a long board for a long time, but I didn't want to be an old guy that sucked. Now I have a perfect excuse as I'm just doing it for my son.
So we've been skating almost everyday. It feels really good to roll around. I've even gone without him - early this morning I had to go to a meeting near my house so I skated. As I slalomed down this hill I was wondering what the hell am I doing? If I wipe out it's going to hurt like hell. My son has fallen tens of times already. He tried to skate the grom bowl at Pier Park and fell on his ass over and over until I taught him to slide on his knee pads. He takes a beating every time we skate and yet has no soreness the next day. He thinks I'm an awesome skater and wants to see me to skate the full pipe at Pier. I try to tell him that as a skater you got to know your limits and skate within them until you feel ready to try to the next challenge. One more thing where baby steps are the way to go.
When I was an acting teacher I talked a lot about feeling one's feet under them. I should have had people stand on skateboards in the studio because I got to tell you, feeling your feet under you takes on a whole new meaning.

Feeling my feet on pressed maple,
Signore Direttore

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Folk Wisdom 034


A man of courage is also full of faith.

Cicero