Every place is right here

Go see every place you have ever been or wanted to be...
http://earth.google.com/

No snow boots needed

We got the first rejection email today for JOB and we're all still fine and jazzy. We want the best premiere home for the film and this one wasn't it. The film is a good one and will find it's place.

So, really, we're just one step closer to where we'll land. Now, our path is clear. We've got a picture lock, a sound mix in progress, a color correction in progress, all is well.

hug a high school kid this holiday season

high school pretty much sucks for most kids...there's that interminable wait for college, the ' no longer a kid, yet not quite an adult' thing, and even worse, there's the 'no one takes me seriously' thing.
They are our future, our future political moves and shakers and they need for us to believe in them.
Hug a high school kid, or even better, get to know one... ask them what they think about the world, what they love, what moves and shakes them, how they see their future.

what I'm thankful for

in no particular order...

I'm thankful for

• my health
• my kid
• my boyfriend/sweetheart/best friend/etc.
• my family (including the 4 leggeds)
• my friends

I'm thankful I have

• a roof over my head
• friendly neighbors who tolerate our 4 dogs and both cats
• work on projects that matter and have integrity and heart
• a trainer who is helping me get full use of my arm back after almost 6 years
• a generally positive outlook on life
• friends from all corners of the world and all walks of life

freedom to do things i love like

• run 11 miles
• take pictures
• write
• make movies

93 souls

Sunday a.m. I woke at 5 a.m. to gear up and head out to shoot the annual Memorial service for the Homeless who died on the streets of Austin last year. There were 93 of them.
I learned that if you die on the streets of Austin, and you are penniless and without a family, you are treated to a burial in the pauper field, in East Austin.
They don't allow type of service, they won't pray over your body, they just bury you, in your custom-sized cardboard box.

It was cold Sunday morning. And, as usual, I tried to go out with just a long sleeved t-shirt and a sweater. I'm a native Texan and it seems to take awhile for me to realize that Fall has arrived. So, I shivered and in my shivering I thought about the people that shiver every night, blanketless, coatless, warm dinner-less. It really wasn't so bad.

As the names of those who died were read, the attendees placed carnations on the Homeless Memorial, trying to make up for the simple quiet burial the city gave them, saying the names of these strangers and friends aloud one last time, remembering they were here with us once.

Alan Graham who runs Mobile Loaves and Fishes and Richard Troxell who runs House the Homeless are two of the leaders in the Austin homeless movement. They are both well educated, nice, gentlemen. They seem egoless, focused on what they see as righting a deep injustice.

Alan said something that kept me thinking long after the memorial. He said that we've lost our sense of community. During the depression, the community took care of each other, they brought people in for dinner, gave them odd jobs, took care of each other. They buried each other according to their religion.

Now, we're mostly well fed and well 401k-d, yet we forget they we are part of a town of people, that we all share a city. We've lost that personal sense of neighbors and community, created a divisiveness between those who live in homes and those who roam.

Many of the homeless are mentally ill and many are disabled. It should embarrass our community that people who are so ill are left out in the cold. We can do better.

it's 2 a.m. and I'm in a movie theater with a bunch of Potter fans!

I don't know how, or why, but I did make a choice to accompany my daughter and her friend to the premiere of the new Harry Potter movie, "The Goblet of Fire". We arrived at the theatre at 9:30 or so, and the movie, um started at midnight, so we sat down behind a lot of other people to wait for the doors to open. Some people wore potter-wear (glasses, face makeup, quiddith brooms and t-shirts, etc. etc. )

I don't know about you, but I don't like cutters...and we had some line cutters. It was no big deal, the theatre is huge, but it was the principle, I guess. This group of girls, all wearing lots of make up and with their jeans all painted on , grew by 5 people while we waited. I seethed over it...one looked and me said, "oh, they're just sitting here", "yeah right you little...." I'm sorry, I apologize, but I thought some bad stuff about those snotty girls...
oh, and then Harry Knowles wheeled by, I waved and smiled like I knew him and he said, "Hey, how are you!". "Good! You?" "Good".

Soon we were let in the theatre and like I said, the cutter girls weren't a huge deal, there was plenty of seating, it was just tacky of them...you know...very Slytherin of them.

The movie started after many adverts and a few trailers. They left a lot out, no winky, no spew, very different ending, and still it was almost 2 1/2 hours and I missed some of it when I dozed off.

I recommend you see it, maybe catch an early show.

annalise: her journey to 2nd chair

I'm not bragging when I say my daughter, Annalise, is an amazing kid. It's honestly just the truth. I lucked out. I got a really intense, intelligent, talented kid. I've always said that it's much harder to raise a smart kid, add intense and talented to the mix, and it's really hard. It's worth it though, it's just, a big job.
She set a goal to make state choir this year. At District, she made 2nd chair. At Region, she made 6th chair. Last night, was Pre-Area. Out of the 16 kids from each vocal range, only 6 would go on to the next level.
For the past four weeks she'd been learning new music. Latin/German pieces with complex and interesting chord changes. These pieces required concentration as well as vocal ability. They were tough, designed to weed out the kids who don't work from those who do. A mental and vocal test in every bar. She also worked on her sight reading, her weakest link in the chain of musical skills. By yesterday she was on week 12 of the book, Ninety Days to Successful Sight Reading. She knew her music. She knew her sight reading. She was ready.
I picked up the three kids from her school, McCallum High, who had qualified for Pre-Area auditions, Danny the bass, Kathryn the Soprano2 and Annalise the Alto2. I brought them tasty Ginger/Lemon tea with honey from Quacks. We listened to soothing classical music as we drove South.
We got there early so we stopped at Galaxy Cafe for an early dinner and more tea and lots of water. I love interesting kids who care about interesting things. Over dinner we talked a lot about the artistic sensibility, why they love music, what else they love, artists they admire. Danny mentioned going to writing camp at the Univ. of Iowa home of the famed Writer's workshop (I was jealous for a bit, having been raised by nice people who were terrified by the arts, I've always wondered 'what if' a bit.) Kathryn talked about why she loves choral music, how she wants to be a conductor. Annalise chimed in too. It was nice, really really nice.
They practiced some sight reading drills with the car CD player, then we headed for Bowie High (named after the famous James Bowie, of the Bowie knife who one of my ancestors used to hang out with in the old days but I digress.)
Inside the school, the kids hung out in school affiliated clumps. Some were being given snack spirit packs by a booster club parent, others were holding hands in prayer, others were just standing around nervously in their matching t-shirts. One kid in a wheelchair kept doing wheelies and once he jumped his chair down some stairs, which was really cool. Interesting thing about my three kids, they all wore black, they all looked serious. I was a booster club of one, and we were there to kick some musical ass, in a nice way, of course.
The best thing about attending these events is the warm up time. I was writing away in my birthday journal, when the kids were called to attention. Then in a matter of seconds, all these awkward, less athletic kids stood taller, looked prouder, chins high and eyes bright and they sang. I was surrounded by some of the best singers in the state. I was in the middle of the music.
One by one the musical groups were called away to await their auditions. Kathryn, Soprano 2, left first with hugs from all of us. Then it was Annalise's turn to go and I gave her a big hug. Danny was next and I just patted him on the back and told him to do his best and I think I actually told him to kick ass, too. Oh well. I left for a bit, ran some errands.
When I came back Kathryn was back in the waiting room reading Vonnegut. She said she blew it, but her spirits were good. Annalise came in shortly after. She burst into tears and said she blew it, too. Danny came in later saying he felt really good about it all.
We rode home in silence. Annalise was bereft. We talked a lot about how she's still a good singer no matter what happens. To remember that, to think positive, etc.
It was a dark night, still. A dark night for parenting. The next morning her eyes were puffy from crying. She was resigned, still sad, but resigned.
I got a call at 11:30, the results were in. Danny made first chair, Kathryn made 13th chair. Annalise made 2nd chair. They all did really well and they earned it, every little bit of it.
State competition is in January, I'll keep you posted.

a lull

There's some kind of energy lull going on with me...after a few weeks of crazy ups and downs, this week I've been calling in tired. I missed my friend's birthday dinner, I said 'no' to a few things and I just stayed home and tidied my space and ate peasant food and folded towels. It was nice. Being in a whirl is nice sometimes, yet the lulls are good too and for some reason, I'm in one.

I went to a play with a friend of mine on Thursday and while I loved the play (keepin it weird at Zach, staring my friend Aralyn Hughes), I found myself starting to fade in the act 3. I was ready to call it a night at barely 10:00 p.m.

The homeless are coming back around. I saw William, I saw Nancy, I saw Wes and the whole gang. I put my friend on an Amtrak bound for Grand Rapids, MI. Friday a.m. He's one I've worried about most, he's young and he gives everything away so he's often without a coat or a jacket or socks. He'd been fasting, so he was skin and bones. I was happy to help get him to the train and on his way to his family.

Next Sunday I 'm to shoot the memorial service for the homeless who died on the streets last year (89) and I still don't have a shooter. I'll probably do it myself. It's time to start in again before Brain Brawl takes over, while there's a tiny lull in J.O.B., though it's still a part-time job, while my freelance work has ebbed.

This morning I ran 9 miles and I could have gone further. After the Komen run, I've been working on my pacing. I found though, that while I start out slowish (11.30 miles), around mile 5, I pick up the pace. It's weird. Most people get tired as the reach the end, I just want to keep going.

Somehow, oddly, this is similar to what's going on in my life right now. I'm ready for what's next. I'm moving there and this temporary lull is part of that.

a crackdown on sleeping

Sleeping outside is a ticketable offense. So, don't do it. Especially if you're at U.T. (sleep in class, sleep in your dorm, but don't take a nap on the lawn or curl up on a bench in a quiet corner of the auditorium. Of course, most of get 6-8 hours a night in a soft comfy bed, the people getting tickets for sleeping are the ones who grab a few hours of rest here and there on the porches of businesses, in the woods, in the parks, all around town.

Three tickets, unpaid, can turn into jail time. They want to teach you a lesson, and encourage you to sleep elsewhere.

I just found out that one of my more tender hearted homeless friends spent 3 days in jail for sleeping at U.T. Apparently it bothers people to see someone in dirty clothes huddled up against a building and sleeping.

All he wants now is to apologize to the judge for sleeping on campus. He says he'll never do it again. But...where will he sleep exactly?

voting tomorrow

If you need another reason to vote tomorrow...
Two of my friends eloped this weekend. They traveled to British Columbia and got married. It's not legal for them to marry in Texas. Even though they own a home together, have been committed to each other for years and are both well into adulthood, they can't make their relationship legal and sanctioned in the state of Texas. They are both ladies, silvery haired, kick ass, Christian ladies.

It's been illegal to marry someone of the same sex in Texas for awhile now, but the pin-headed Republicans have put a proposition on the ballot that calls for an amendment to the Texas constitution to reinforce this law. They want to make sure no one gets married in Texas who isn't heterosexual, and in so doing, they join themselves with such people as the KKK and insist that the most important thing about marriage is one's gender.

As a former married person, I think this is kind of funny, as well as very sad. It makes marriage seem like a very simple thing indeed. I know better. Marriage requires more of a couple than that they be a certain gender combination. It requires commitment, maturity, the ability to tread lightly and softly and to create space in togetherness. More than that it requires you to know surely as you know your own heart that your committed to this very one person forever and ever and ever, that you know them well enough and yourself well enough to say in front of God and everyone that you will pledge your very life to them.

I always felt that my brief little marriage, though an attempt to do the right thing, though a trial by fire that taught me a hell of a lot in less than two years, was at heart, a lesson in how big of a deal marriage really is. If people want to try it, I salute them, whatever their gender, it's a brave, hopeful thing to marry.

In defining marriage, the Republicans cheapen it.

My first race

Sunday was my first race, as an adult, anyway. I certainly did races as a kid. We did lots of races in the old 'hood, on foot and bike.
As a teen, I'd race my horse, Golden Diamond, a tall old, lanky Tennessee Walker mix against the horses that shared the 300 acre lease with us in what use to be the fields on the edge of Hurst, Texas. There was one spot we loved best, a big bean patch with bean plants over 5 feet tall and so thick you couldn't see more than 2 feet in front of you. The horses always knew where to go, they'd run through those beans fearlessly, knowing when to veer to the left or the right a bit, to keep us going. We were all fearless, then. Diamond was taller than the "better bred" Quarterhorses and Arabians, so we had an advantage in the bean patch. We'd also do pole races, send our horses weaving through a long column of 10 foot poles. We time each other by counting 1-1000, 2-1000, 3-1000....close enough for us.

Sunday's race was different.
The Race for The Cure, the race to end breast cancer, raise money for awareness, research, medical care and to raise the spirits of the survivors and those who lost loved ones to the disease was all on foot, timed with special chips and attended by tens of thousands of people.
It was my first race since turning into a runner. It was only a 5K ( 3 miles for those of us who didn't pay attention during the metric system chapter).

I had lots of names on my back: In celebration of Charlie Young, Rita (my friend James' sister) and Carla Cook, Annalise's step mom. In memory of Donna Dittman, a friend's Mom, Nancy Clay, (James' mom) and Gail, a woman I knew briefly in Seattle, only because she died shortly after her breast cancer metastized in her liver.

I expected emotion, I expected tears. I didn't expect the rush out of the starting gate, out into the crowd of runners, running faster than I should be, high on excitement, adrenaline, emotion, tears and the music. I felt myself spring out fast, too fast and for a moment, I couldn't slow down, I was running on some other person's command. I was out of the gate and about to burn myself out. I finally slowed a bit, found my pace and tried to stay with it through the race.
As we moved down the street toward the state capital building, we passed people holding signs, yelling encouragement, passing out water, playing music, telling us to "keep on going". Every time I saw one of those signs, I wanted to cry, I was overcome, overwhelmed, physically, mentally, all of the ways possible.

We rounded the capital and I saw we had just passed the 2 mile mark. Only one mile to go, normally easy, normally one more mile is no big deal. This time, I was pumping, pushing and it was hot for November. I thought about walking for a few seconds, I knew if I did, I'd lose some faith in myself, some contract I'd made with myself to keep on going. I am doing a marathon in February and one thing I've learned is that endurance, at least for me, is mental as much as physical. Going an extra lap at the end of every run is my way of teaching myself that I can do this, of having the mental discipline to push myself past the point of what I think I know I can do.
And this was just three miles. This wasn't a chemo treatment. This wasn't a stint in the hospital. This was easy.
I kept going.
We met up with some therapy dogs who barked us out from the capital grounds and back on the street and up a hill. We rounded a few more turns, we ran on and on and then I could see the row of pink and white balloons, I heard the announcers, I saw my friend who finished before me cheering me on, I was in tears again, I ran across the finish line, flushed, tired and happy. Diamond would have been proud.

Laura, honey...

I borrowed this link from my friend Dave...but the world needs to know.

Belledame222 over at FetchMeMyAxe has a few frightening photos of Laura Bush.
Can someone buy this woman a cup of green tea?

thursday morning

Soon i will post pictures of my boyfriend dressed like a scarecrow on halloween...it was fun, the neighbor kids loved it, the dogs were confused (but, often , simply wearing a hat will confuse a dog). This morning, up early to run. Big day ahead.
Met Kat/Karen/Nisha and did 4 miles at a fast little clip.
Came home to message from 'cowboy' asking if I was going to be at the homeless center today. (yes.) I have to slip out for a bit though and meet friends for lunch, then come back in. Then do this and that and the afternoon will slip away again.

Time is gold and then some. Time is air and water and creative calling.
I have this next to my desk:

Evening Gatha

Let me respectfully remind you,
Life and death are of supreme importance.
Time swiftly passes by and opportunity is lost.
Let us strive to awaken,
Awaken.
Take heed,
do not squander your life.