Creatively ringing in the year!

And my resolution to pick up the blogging pace has been irrevocably smashed to bits. Ah well, there's still time. Fifteen more posts by February 1 and I'll have caught up once again. Big smiles everyone.

It's 2009. And that is ... well, absolutely fantastic. Truly. You cannot begin to grasp the excitement that has been happening since my last posting. Okay, perhaps you can. And perhaps you've experienced it yourself.

Rather than recall the last two weeks in diary format, I just want to make a few statements and observations about the world we live in and how it pertains to me and my school-boy giddyness.

First, the maternity ward of my local hospital needs to seriously pay attention. I walked right by them and they never asked who I was. No badge adorned me. I do not look like a doctor. I had a card in my hand and asked for a room number and they sent me along. Everyone else on the floor had badges and they were signed in. Maybe I just don't look threatening?

WHY was I testing the security of a local maternity ward? I wasn't. I was visiting my sister. Who had just had her first baby! That's right, I'm AN UNCLE. Me! Uncle me. Wow! It's awesome on so many many levels. And the kid! Adorable. A little boy. My nephew. Her son. A grandchild (the first) for my folks. It's really quite amazing how fascinating a baby is. You just sit and watch him. He doesn't DO anything. He just sits and watches you. Watches the nurses. His parents. The bird outside. Seeing EVERYTHING for the first time. His first blanket. First hallway. First elevator ride. It's just amazing to me. Logically, I'd thought about the concept. Babies. New world and all that. But seeing it... was a first for me too.

In my own way, I had a baby. So my mom jokes. My sister has the husband, house, dog, and now kid, while I have... a rental unit. Roommates. A cat. And no love life to speak of. That she's the younger is truly now in age only. But me... I also have my writing. Theatre. And film.

And it is glorious.

This past weekend was awesome. Theatre Daedalus put on it's second production. And while the house was small, the actors were incredible. Staging the words of me and my writing partners, the night was a dream. I mean, my jokes got laughs. The joke that the actor didn't like, but nailed, got the laugh I wanted it to get. I was on CLOUD NINE!

Still kind of on a high from all that. Seeing you work performed is such a rush. Theatre Daedalus is steadily growing, taking on new talent and we're planning two more productions later this year.

When I'm not working on Daedalus, I've been fortunate enough to be working with a classy group of filmmakers by the name of Glass City Films. My other love is film. I majored in it, so this past couple of months has been intense, in a good way. Lots of hard work by lots and lots of people. And the lastest example is now out there on YouTube showing off a movie trailer for an investment package to raise the funds to make a movie that I scripted.

A movie! Sorry -- I never tire of that. It began on the stage and has stretched it legs to the screen. My two passions, one story. Heaven.

Anyway, I've embedded the trailer here. I hope you enjoy it as much as a I do. If you do, please share it with everyone you've ever met. Thanks!

Cutting through the static...

There was a year called 2008. And it went by so fast that no one actually remembers seeing it. Those who lived through it recall it like a foggy dream... wisping around on the edge of the ether. But it went so fast.

I have been neglecting this blog for any number of reasons. None are good. But then that's how it goes. I have, in the past month, taken strides towards a creative endeavor that is awesome as it is demanding. But demanding like a lover worth having. Any relationship is give and take. Even in art.

So as I furiously plow through scene after scene and shot after shot of "Separation Anxiety" the movie, I stop this morning to look around. And maybe catch a glimpse of 2008 before it shuffles off its mortal coil.

Creatively, it was glorious. I directed two well-received stageplays. I wrote 10 ten minute plays. Saw three of them produced with the birth of my own theatre company (partnering with two amazing playwrights in the process).

My full-length play "Separation Anxiety" saw itself staged in a workshop production (as my second show to make the Curtain Players Playwrights Festival).

I won a national writing award. They printed my essay in a collection.

And I adapted "Separation Anxiety" into a film script, shot a trailer for it, and plan to film it in the fall of 2009.

And yet for all that, I feel like there's more to do. That 2009 will have to top my acheivements to make it worth it. Is that foolish, or is it intrepid? A finer line was never drawn.

The year also brought about some turning points in the lives of my friends and family. My sister married and I gained a brother-in-law, and soon will have a nephew to spoil. Loved ones lost jobs, homes, and any sense of stability in this stressful economy. Saw relationships coming and going, solidifying and crumbling. Flirted with a chance to connect and let another slip away. Friends moved for amazing opportunities and while excited and happy for them, I still feel the void their departure has created in my day to day. I celebrated two years with my company, quietly and without pomp. Or circumstance. And I watched my family come together to mourn the passing and celebrate the life of my grandmother -- a loss that I've yet to come to terms with.

Perhaps that's why I haven't blogged. Here. My latest entries can be found all over at I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin' - the blog I started to catalog the creative pursuits in my life. Or perhaps you'll read me over at the Separation Anxiety Blog, geared completely to the film (and on which I'm one of three authors). Those are the blogs where I can focus on the creative side. The hard work. The things that keep me busy and running on the ragged edge as long as my body can stand it.

Not here. Where emotion lives. Where the thoughts dance around in nostalgia and evade portions of my reality which still sting when touched. As I don't want to become utterly morose, I avoid popping in to blog since this past month -- when you strip away the "busy," the caked on festive grins, this hat or that hat I'm wearing or whatever I'm doing to just keep moving -- I'm quietly screaming. Crying. Aching from the gaping wound that's slow to mend.

There's a hole in the world.

I thought I knew... but I think I only truly realized in these past few days the full magnitude of how much my grandma's presence impacted my life. It's one thing to "know" it. Another to feel it when it's ripped away from you. To be driving home from the mall and be overcome with anger for no reason other than because you feel different. Altered. Being alone with your thoughts and -- it's not a sense of not recognizing myself... no, that's not it. It's more like... something's gone. I lost a piece of me in that hospital room when the count went to zero. When the quiet took over... I can see the thestrals now.

So if I've been somewhere else, that's a good guess as to why. I'm not distant because I'm busy. I'm busy because I'm distant.

Thanks for listening. For someone who talks as much as I do, it never ceases to amaze me how much more I can say with the written word than I ever could articulate in speech. As most people do, I have my slew of resolutions for 2009. One is to get back to this blog. The rest, I'm sure you'll hear about if that one sticks.

Happy New Year.

No Easy Way...

This will not be a long post. That will come later. For now it's harder to write than it was a few days ago. It is with great sadness that I share with you the passing of my grandmother. I will soon be posting a bit more about this amazing woman who played such a grand role in my life. But for tonight, I can't.

If you knew her, I invite you to celebrate her. We will lay her to rest in five days time. Please join me on Wednesday to share your memories of her. I will be posting a eulogy soon --- right now there are too many feelings and too many stories and ...

I'm going to keep her to myself for a few more days. And smile.

We are the lucky ones... why don't we remember that?

Reposted from my Facebook notes:

This is odd for me. I'm not --- I don't --- I'm an emotional cripple, as my sister would say. And that's not an insult... just a funny way of saying that I don't exude much emotion. And I don't... publicly. Many of you know this. You've seen it. Or the lack of it. I could be over the moon about something, but you might never know if I didn't tell you. I'm so mellow that people often think I'm not impressed, or that I'm judging. When really, I'm just trying to maintain control.

I'm working on it. Outwardly displaying the feelings that surge through me. Because I do feel. A lot. There are so many things in this world that can easily move me to tears --- not in sadness, but in that way that you're overcome with a wave of emotion and feeling so intense that you... burst, for lack of a better term, and it's one of the main reasons that I write. A story. A blog. Some note. The next play. Transcribed into film. Lyrics of poetry.

And right now, I'm not sure what to do. Do I write? Do I cry? I don't know. As I crawl into my bed tonight, my grandma is fighting for her life in the heart of the city. I won't get into many details here, but the short version is that things were really bad today for her. But I know that she's a tough old bird. The oldest of eight, she raised half of her siblings after losing both her parents by the time she was 19. And if I start getting into the amazingness that is her, it'll be a long night.

Today was one of the ones that I wish I could forget, but being with my family... seeing aunts, uncles, cousins, and the whole tribe together... it was really quite something. It reminded me just how close we are. And how one woman, going on 84, truly is the heart of this family --- the one that holds us all together. And we are lucky to have her.

Out of the Woods

The fact that I'm not asleep is all by itself a tiny miracle. Or, perhaps just the result of several hours of dozing in a frigid car as it traversed the map from one state to another.

I post quickly tonight... this morning... whenever it is. Alwhen... isn't that his phrase? Might do might do. I don't steal. I homage things. And verb the nouns as best I can when staring through the trees.

Kirby's right... mustn't talk when lacking sleep. The sense I make does not entwine with human thought as much as I would like to wish. Statements crumble under pressure.

And I sit here and chuckle to myself. Out loud, though there's no one 'round to hear it. They sleep tonight. Something I should be doing. But I don't. Can't. There's a story reaching its destination. Characters at the gate.

The path illuminated.



Back to the story.

Hi. I used to blog here...

At some point tonight, I will fall asleep. It's pretty much a certainty. The mulled cider will most assuredly assist in that. On a perfect day in October, when the frost stops by for its first of many visits, the cider must be warmed. And mulled if possible. But somewhere along the fibers of space and time that drift rhythmically to a drum beat I yearn desperately to find, a series of events must take place tonight if my tomorrow will be what it needs to be. And that's not too much to ask is it?

Nice opening statement, wasn't it? And so it was written, 14 days ago. And then it was now; and even though my body aches with exhaustion, I am compelled to post. To break my silence. A silence that had no meaning. It's one thing to choose to be quiet, it's another to let life muzzle you.

And then I crashed. Hard. That'll happen well after 2am.

Apologies for the lack of posts. In the blogosphere, absence does not make the heart grow fonder... in some cases it causes worry. But I am fine, in case you were fretting. Or perhaps you were getting ticked that I'm just taking up server space for no apparent reason in October.

October. What an interesting month it has been all around. Truly. I'm not sure where to begin. So I'll pick a topic at random, based loosely on how it relates to my immediate time table, and go from there.

Tonight I'm off to meet a friend of a friend. One of the few people I've friended on Facebook without actually ever meeting in person (you all know who you are). We're grabbing drinks to discuss a script I'm writing/adapting from a play I wrote.

SIDEBAR

This is where I think I've discovered WHY I haven't blogged. You see, you'll notice that I don't use things like my real name on this blog. I just don't. Funny that. Probably because the internet is just so damn searchable and my boss likes to read-up on people. And I seldom dabble in working in the name of a friend. It's this thing about identity, anonymity, virtual v. offline, and some respect I have for a secrecy that I invented.

Yes. Strange.

What it does, you see, is create, in no uncertain terms, a bizarre rhetoric where I talk in circles and cryptic messages which when read back to me don't sound like "Meeting a friend of a friend for drinks at an undisclosed location," but rather "the condor flies at night" and other such nonsense. [Note: I read the pre-sidebar stuff and it sounds perfectly normal... I think the afternoon blogging was coming in at a peak stress moment. Back to the sidebar...]

And yet, cryptic I remain. Which is hilarious considering I have a twitter account. And it's not under Jamie Rotham. But if you know who I really am, it's not hard to figure out. And really --- does anyone read this who DOESN'T know who I really am? Lizza found me quite easily... but then she's a longtime friend of the blog and recalls a time when anonymity wasn't my deal.

Sigh.

Where was I before the rant of idiocy on myself?

Ah yes... drinks. About a script. It's almost Hollywood. Except there's no chance of sushi and we don't have agents.


FASTFORWARD

(I'm even writing this is quasi-script form)

INT. BURTON'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

A hodge-podge decorated room that clearly did not survive the midwest in the 1970s comes into focus. A tired man in an orange shirt hunches over his laptop, further destroying what little posture he claims to have.

Nearby, a cat sits on a couch, staring out a window into the night.

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. EUROPEAN COFFEE BAR, COLUMBUS -- NIGHT

A thriving cafe near the heart of the city where there's a laptop for every person. In a time long forgotten, people gathered here to read and discuss literature.

Now it's meet ups and term papers. Music from the mid-90s is quite happily embedded into the ambiance. Wine. Coffee. Left-leaning newspapers. The children of the revolution, circa 2008, feast on panini-grilled meals and rejoice that happy hour here means no corking fee on the wine.


It's November 12. In case you missed that smash cut and the sudden removal of italics. Sorry, let's just ponder that for a moment.

Not the italics. The date.

NOVEMBER 12.

Frak me.

In the time since I last published from this platform (far too long), we have elected a new president. And let's stop and ponder that too. Did you vote (if you live in the US)? Did you stop and take part in that glorious right called voting -- that right that countless men and women have died protecting? I hope so. We're lucky to live in a world where the people have a voice. Where people are willing to die to defend that voice. And I think it's been a while since the people made themselves heard so clearly. One way or t'other. I'm not here to talk politics and as Edward knows, I'm annoyingly tight-lipped about my leanings. I'll just say this: I exercised my right to vote. I hope you did the same.

So, October came and went. And now we're plowing through November. So many things I too am just catching up on. A cousin of mine married on All Hallow's Eve. Congrats to her. My co-worker who wasn't expecting anymore kids after her two little boys found out she's having a girl and cried happy tears with her mother knowing that she'll have a daughter of her own. I finally came up with a clever Halloween costume. And I took my 7-year old cousin/God-daughter to see a play. And she loved it. And I ached a little at how grown up she is at 7 and how much I've already missed.

The song that just came across the speakers is from Empire Records and images of my freshman year at Notre Dame come rushing back. Maybe that, or because earlier I found my old website and shuddered and laughed at how an 18 year-old in 1997 tackled HTML and the internet. Anonymity be damned. The web was smaller then. And yet it was easier to stay hidden.

I'm sitting here working on a script. It's the one I mentioned in the above text. The backstory to this moment. In fact, I won't stay long here as I have three days. THREE DAYS to finish the full draft and present it to my producer. How awesome is that. My producer. And I'm the director. Again. With the awesome.

If this Fall has done anything for me, it was started to show me a path and illuminate my priorities. I've been fortunate to have some extremely creative people getting my back and offering encouragement. The usual suspects like Keaton and Snowflake. Some newer faces like Edward and Chase. ... I chuckle. Does Chase know who he is? Edward must (and no, that's NOT his real name). It's like coming up with code names for the president. Edward might become Starbuck. Sounds more code name than Edward. I'll think about it.

Well, I aim to keep up with this blog as much as the writing and the other places where I pop up online. I owe my readers and followers updates. I have followers! How cool is that. I promise, it won't go to my head.

I'll just leave you with this. Another things I've come to notice in recent days is the precious nature of our existence and just how random things are. Friends of mine are dealing with unbelievable trauma -- those things they never expected. We don't. Do we? Expect.

Predict. Think about. The random illness. One life intersecting with another so with such force that things irrevocably change. A forgotten moment. A missed touch. Bad timing. I think about all the friends and family that are scattered about. The distance between us. How we try amongst the swirling cacaphony of life to keep in touch. To connect. It's nice. The smile brought by a TXT. The voicemails we don't delete, but hold onto for months just so we have those someones close at hand when we need to hear a comforting voice. Wondering when we made the transition from first to know to finding out on Facebook. Counting down the days to the weekend because it means more than it used to. Realizing you're still growing up at 30. When you're not even 30. We are, all of us, more alike than we realize. Just some of us are walking around with our eyes open. Others, not so much.

I think about the conversation I had with Keaton into the wee hours. Got me thinking about where I'm at and -- it was very quo vadimus for me. And if you don't know what that means, go watch Sports Night. It was a good talk.

Lots of those lately. Seems we're all seeking. We're all wanting. More. Less. Something. And we look ahead... together... apart... we look ahead.

Is your path illuminated? Can you see the world around you and still keep on target. Are the people in your life contributing to the betterment of your existence? Did you see yourself in that earlier 'graph?

I feel like there's been a massive amount of change since we last spoke. As I enter these last days of my twenties, I feel like I'm meeting my thirty-something self. I like him. We have coffee after work some nights and chat about the things that stay with a man. And the things that go with the boy. Who I am... who I want to be...

Another song from college. Everlast. Everything to everyone. How very appropriate. God, I have to laugh. Don't you?

Okay, time to go. Time to write for myself. But I'll be back. Thanks for still being here. I hope we can reconnect soon because there really is so much to share.