Cool School

So i've had this idea floating around in my head for a number of months about starting a school. Originally I wanted to expand the cinema program into something else, something like what I experienced at the cinema school in Cuba last year. After some thought and discussion, I realized that creating an affiliation to the university (or any other old-time institution) would probably end up being quite limiting.

My idea was to have a cinema school that focuses heavily on theory, practice and production. Theory would mean every student would have to be familiarized with the core concepts of film studies, going back to the early days of theory in the 1920s, but also reaching further back to include more general art theories too.

The practice would mean a few things: not only practicing one's craft, but also thinking about methods. There would be a class to help the student find their optimal working style. Some people can work hours and hours two days before a project is due, others need to mull over a projects for weeks, work on it in stages and then produce something complete. I was never taught how to learn or how to work efficiently, and although this might seem obvious to some people, I don't really think it's a given for everyone. Besides, sharing ideas about methods would undoubtedly be interesting or inspiring for others. The idea would be to get a collaborative feeling going between students. Taking the shift away from individual genius and making people with great ideas work together to make them powerful. Practice would also mean trial and error. Hopefully, the school would have enough resources for students to dabble in all kinds of things, developing their overall creativity. Practice would also involve a certain level of administrative arts, or business. Maybe, learning about contracts, rights, and other practical industry knowledge I'm not familiar with. (Note to self: find someone businessy to figure this out.)

Production was originally supposed to be a production company; in the same way that some universities have Presses to print their scholarly activities, this school would have a production unit composed of a network of individuals in and out of the school. After thinking about this for a while and talking to some other people, I thought if the school expands beyond cinema into music or performing arts generally, then maybe the production company shouldn't be limited to film. Maybe the school could have one big project per year, alternating between a film, a live music show, an opera, a dance or whatever. That would give the other areas several years to work on developing their projects. I'm unsure if this is possible, for a production company to produce many different kinds of works, but maybe it could be the first.

Thinking about this some more, and watching several TED talks, made me think that having an official 'institution' might not be a good idea. Institutions have a history of being very rigid and probably thwarting creativity. I watched one talk that was discussing how big internet successes are mostly ones that are flexible, accessible projects -- think flickr, youtube. Ones where people can contribute what they want, when they want. This is now my biggest mental challenge: figuring out how to have a flexible, inviting, creatively thriving "school" that has enough structure to produce things like films and operas which demand huge commitments. The challenge for me is uncertainty. How to deal with the uncertainty of who is in the school, working, learning, producing, at any given time? How to deal with the uncertainty of their compatibility? How to deal with the uncertainty of the attractiveness of this flexibility outside of the school (and indirectly, its legitimacy)?

The school in Cuba functions with visiting lecturer workshops. They have a core group of professors, but they bring in many top quality individuals from the industry (not only teachers, editors, producers, writers). This seems like a great idea. It would certainly add to the interest of the school, and create links between the school and the industry.. I think if the basis of the school, it's more fundamental principle is collaboration, then it might have a shot.

The trouble right now is, there's no real urgency for this kind of school. I know a bunch of talented creative people in all kinds of artistic field who are frustrated by the lack of creative locus in the city, but I don't know many of them with enough gusto to want commit to this crazy idea flowering in my head.

I want thinkers. I need thinkers right now. People who want to develop this, or at least watch a whole bunch of TED talks about talk about them.

Just Do It!

Somehow the stars aligned last night. I was in class watching this feminist movie. It was bizarre. A film about the condition of women in the seventies. The women were principally factory workers, waitresses, strippers, all kinds of jobs at the service of men. It was criticizing the limitations and lack of respect women had at the time, but what struck me was the the filmmaker was not giving any sense of validation to the work these women were doing. It's sort of serendipitous because I had a brief conversation about this very thing last friday with Vnss. Women who do this kind of work, who are we to make them feel bad about it? Who are we to see no value in it? Things need to be made, plates need to be cleaned, I'm not saying only women or only men should be doing this, but instead of seeing the denigration through the gender, we should just value the work these people are doing. I'm unsure at what age we're programmed to believe this kind of work is not noble, or doesn't deserve the same respect as lawyers and doctors.

It's like the old tale about how in Germany plumbers make as much money as doctors, because they are as valuable to society as doctors. I don't know why we have all these divisions here. This is a kind of mythical story I remember from childhood. I don't actually know if plumbers are as valued as doctors in Germany.

This film left me feeling like I was doomed not to achieve anything in life. That the cards were inevitably stacked against me no matter what I did in life. If I try, like I am now, to focus on being a good person, instead of getting ahead in life, then, I'll be left behind. I felt pretty anxious after this whole thing. Feminist films make me so anxious!

The thought that came to mind to remedy this feeling of not doing anything with my life more than working a retail job (which is awesome and a big part of my personal journey, but there is a part of me that looks down on this for some reason) was that when I went to the cinémathèque the other day, the girl working there was really nice. I thought 'I wonder how people get jobs there... I should just go and ask her!' Then I get home, reply to several emails, and then I read one from Lé about the cinémathèque currently hiring! My fear says, 'don't do it, Bummis is so comfortable and good for you' but my brain says 'oh my god! you can do this job! what perfect timing! Do it!' In the spirit of just doing things (and not thinking about them so much), I applied for a job at the cinémathèque.

I'm a bit anxious to see if i'll go through this process, because applying doesn't always mean getting considered. Scary, but somewhat exciting.

That He Not Busy Being Born Is Busy Dying

This is an interesting idea, if you're not busy being born, you're busy dying. What does it mean to be busy being born? I think I might be. Naissance. It's a very pretty word, and an even prettier concept.

I've suddenly rekindled my affection for bob dylan.

This week went by so fast. I don't know if it was only working three days, or being busy, or what, but I was happy when I realized I would be seeing P the next day! I went to find him at his house while he was gone to Canadian Tire to get that plastic stuff you put on windows to give better insulation. I got there and started making appetizers for Vnss's party. Every time I see him now, it's one of the most special moments in my week. Hugging him, looking him in the eyes, it's all heightened. This week I didn't feel any desperation.

We had a while before going to the party so he started putting the plastic stuff on the windows and I was cooking up a storm. It felt a little bit like what it would be like to live together, it felt nice and comfortable. I have a secret wish that he will one day want to live with me, but I think I want to wait long enough to know that living together won't be the pronouncement of the end of our relationship.

I watched many movies last week, and somehow a lot of them were about marriage. People were basically all saying: 'Marriage, what's the point? What's the point of this piece of paper? Have you ever seen a successful marriage? Why jump into this thing that is basically a death sentence?' I've often secretly hoped that if I did find someone that somehow 'we would be different, we would be the couple that made it work', and all that nonsense. I think i've gotten a random dose of reality, and now I'm not really convinced about the whole marriage idea. However, I have this secret that I'm kind of ashamed of... there's a part of me that wants to be someone's wife, to be introduced 'this is my wife, adl', and to introduce my husband. It doesn't come out of possessive part of me, I don't want to be possessed... but maybe I do, a little bit. Somehow I have this hugely romantic notion that 'my wife' and 'my husband' will always be said with the tone of deep respect and affection, despite the fact that it is probably more often said with disdain.

I feel like I've strayed away from my original path. So, we get to the party and we're pretty much hanging solo. I don't think I've quite figured out how to socialize as a couple, and I'm unsure how he feels about it, but I do know that he's shyer than I thought. So we sit on the couch and talk. I forget the order of things, but I think he said 'should we go? we're just sitting here?' and I said 'let's wait five minutes and then reassess' because I felt like we hadn't given it our best shot. Then he laughs and says 'What!? What's going to happen in five minutes?' and I say 'anything could happen!' Then he says something like it's always better to do something than to do nothing, to which I respond 'you know what that book i'm reading says about that? It says that restlessness is rooted in fear' and he responds 'yeah, that's totally true. I would rather do things than sit around thinking. I always want to be doing things' Then I give him this 'are you kidding me?' look and he says, 'ok, i'm only half kidding, take what I say and cut it in half' and then I am secretly reassured. Then he goes on to say that during the christmas holiday having nothing to do made him stress about the future, his work in particular.

We then start talking about tomorrow's plan: having supper with his folks. I had spoken to his mother a few days before to invite her to come have supper at my house the next time they were in town. We started talking about my christmas holiday, about my gramma, and about my family. One thing led to another and I spilled my family history. About the divorce, the alcoholism, the tension and the alienation. All this stuff I had never discussed with P because I didn't want to define myself with it. I used to do that. I would give people the rundown of who I was within a few meetings, because I wanted them to understand why I was the way I was. I saw myself as a broken person, so I felt like I needed to explain this. With enough time out of that environment, I became a different person. When I met P, I wanted it to come up in its own time. So now that I had told his mom, I felt awkward about the idea that she knew more about my family history than he did. So we're on the couch talking and I told him about this awkward situation. Then I gave him the abridged version of my family history and he looked at me and said 'you're so brave, bb' and he kissed me. Then I told him this sort of explains why I'm always second guessing myself, overthinking things, trying to work on things, trying to be strong and brave, trying to become fearless. Then he said 'well, you must've wanted to tell someone if you told her' and I said 'oh no, everybody knows, it's no secret, I just hadn't told you'. He looks at me with a funny face, asks why and I explain the bit about not wanting to be defined by this past. He responds sweetly.

I'm happy that opening a part of myself to him was positive. I'm not sure why I was worried about it. I think I'm figuring these things out, but hopefully we'll have a lifetime to figure them out together.

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.” - George Bernard Shaw

Kinda looks like an older P.

Let's Do it, Ladies!

Let's do wonderful things!

Delayed Gratification

Yesterday was okay. I received the sweetest love email from P. But on my way downtown, I sat on the bus and read The Sacred Path and everything became extraordinary. Somehow everything I was thinking and feeling was in front of me, in words, being explained. Two chapters, The Genuine Heart of Sadness, and Fear and Fearlessness put everything into perspective. It was basically explaining that I'm in a place right now where I want to open my heart to the world and the people in it. I want to open it because I want to be awake to the world and feel it. What happens is by exposing our hearts in a raw and genuine way, everything becomes a little more sensitive. It says that 'Fearlessness (which is what i'm going for here) is the product of tenderness. It comes from letting the world tickle your heart.'

In the chapter about fearlessness, it describes a common mistake many people make: understanding fearlessness as a reduction of fear, when really, fearlessness is going beyond fear. This reminded me of the acting class I took this summer. There was a quote on the wall that said, 'The only way to get through it, is to go through it.' I remember wanting so much to be able to go through it, but I don't think I had the tools to accept my fear then. I love how being soft and sensitive is the way to get to fearlessness, because now I feel like I am going in that direction in a way that is honest to myself.

Something else that was interesting was how it discussed fear at the root of restlessness, and nervousness. Below them is sadness, and below it, fear. I know I shouldn't be thinking about it this way, but I can't help but think 'is this why P always likes being busy?' Either way, this is my journey, not his, and that's okay.

On my way back from school I read another chapter, Synchronizing Mind and Body, and somehow the whole world began making sense. I felt exhilarated. I was smiling like a goof in the bus. I got home and was bursting with love and happiness and excitement. I wanted to talk to everyone. I wanted to post! but I told myself, no, just feel this, and post tomorrow.

Sometimes delayed gratification is great, it makes you relive your exhilaration.

Matreshka

What does it mean to love someone? I was talking to my mom on Thursday, after a week of meltdown after emotional meltdown, and she said something like 'loving someone means accepting them and loving them with their faults, because we've all got them.' Nobody is perfect and the real test comes when you can point out someone's faults and love the person as much in spite of them.

I'm not playing martyr here, but I think what my mom said is true. We don't love people because they are perfect. We love them because they are constantly surprising, complex beings. Like mathreshka dolls, holding layer upon layer of complexity, to be revealed in time, or perhaps never. This is what I struggle with the most. I think that P is somehow shut tight like a safe I'll never had the combination to open. But when my head is clear, and I open myself to him, he is actually open and receptive, in his own way. People are in different places in life, and we can't not love them because they're not at the same mental place as you. If I feel like I'm working on myself, on my confidence, on my fear, on my anger, I'm not doing it to inspire him, or to get him to open up, or to get him to look deep down inside, I'm doing it because there are certain things I need to do for my self (and my sanity). My journey is not tied to his, perhaps only parallel, if that.

What got me thinking about all of this was my mom's comment, but also, the question: do I feel like P will still love me despite all my emotional breakdowns? my irrational mind? my inability to express what's going on when I ask him to listen? I think the answer is yes. The trouble is, I go around walking on eggshells a little bit, but that's my own problem. My own fear of being myself around him is mostly my own thing, because it is based in so many things that precede his presence.

I've started reading a book my old friend Jol suggested I read. It's called 'Shambahla: The sacred path of the warrior' and it's totally uplifting. It's all about basic goodness. I need to see and understand and feel my own goodness, I know it's in there, hidden under a pile of insecurities.

I've never worked harder in my life.

Always

P calls me at 4pm : 'bb! I'm sorry i'm only calling you now! I just woke up'. Hearing his voice instantly soothes me. His little bubbly enthusiastic 'bb!'. We make plans, he shows up later and his hug makes me lighter. He even dressed up a little bit; nice shirt with the grey, wool tie I gave him. I was wearing a cute 60s tweed dress, so we unconsciously matched.

I felt like he was very present. He was there, he wanted to be there, and he was making me feel it. All my neuroses subsided, all the drama I invented earlier that week disappeared.

I discovered the root is all this drama and urgency is related to my grandmother, and indirectly, my family. When I realized this, all I wanted to do was call my dad, but I couldn't. Something in me felt like I wouldn't be able to keep myself together when talking to him.. I spent the last week in tears for myriad reasons, and I felt like I couldn't do that when he was losing his mother. I haven't felt ready to call him yet. I should, because this shouldn't be about my fear..

I'm all fear these days, but I'm trying to accept it into my heart so that I can let it go.

I'll be Yr Bird

I'm not the tiger, he never had,
I'm not the first hit when you got it bad.
I'm not your second, I'm not your third but
I'll be your bird.

I'm not your Chesnutt,
I'm not your Mould,
I'm not your DJ on late night radio,
I'll be the first one to ask where you were,
I'll be your bird.

Then when there's no one to care,
I could protect like I've always been there,
I'll become your bear.

I'll sing statistics, & hide the truth,
I'll tell your dad anything that you want me to,
I'll hide your locket under the dirt,
I'll be your bird.

-M. Ward

The Perfect Word

Bemused.

uh-oh

something's brewing in the back of my mind.. i feel it. It feels familiar... it feels selfish, but not in a good way. I'm not focusing on myself, so drama rears its ugly head. I'm having trouble even focusing on writing this post.

I'm terrified he's going to forget me or stop loving me or easily put me aside for his career.

That's what I want to say, that's what's shouting at me from down there. But hey, what's wrong with this picture? He needs to put himself first too, to be happy, to be productive, to be inspired, to move forward in life. He is his number one, I should be my number one. It is perfectly reasonable for such a talented and ambitious guy to stop at nothing to make his dream come true. The scary thing for me is, that he dreams big, and he makes things happen. I don't understand how it's nearly impossible to make my heart calm down for a second and realize that our paths with probably grow in parallel, despite the fact that we might have different schedules. Why is it so hard to be reassured by this?

I'm indulging in drama just thinking about this (bullshit).

Why can't I just remember how beautiful life is from the macro to the micro.

P fixed the dvds we were trying to watch the other day. Sweetheart.

Theory vs. Practice

I went skating with P on saturday. We met up at 3, joined Lé and Andrw at Parc Lafontaine, and skated for about an hour. The ice wasn't perfect, but it was fun anyway. We had some hot chocolate at Andrw's, went home, made supper, watched Atonement, and I was ready for bed. We went to bed around 1.30am and I feel asleep instantly. We set the alarm for 9am because we wanted to go see Up in the Air at 12.30. The alarm rang, but we didn't get up. I got out of bed at 11.45 and did a bit of work on the computer. I decided to wake P up around 1 because even though we wouldn't go see the movie, our time would be limited since he worked that afternoon. We decided to watch a Planet Earth documentary thing, but the dvd wasn't working. P spent about 30 minutes trying to fix it, and when I finaly said, 'let's forget it', he replied, 'yeah I have to leave in 15 minutes anyway'.. my heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach. I felt a pretty big sense of disappointment. It wasn't really because he spent the time trying to fix the dvd, but probably because I didn't say anything like 'okay forget it, let's just snuggle' before it was too late.

I decided last week that I wouldn't have any expectations about this new scheduling situation, because it simply can't be helped and it's really not the end of the world, but clearly I had some lurking in there somewhere. I don't want to make a big deal out of this, because adding drama to this situation is not going to help me or it. There are a few words I need to remember:

"Love has nothing to do with what you're expecting to get, only what you're expecting to give, which is everything." - Katharine Hepburn

In other news, I went to my first class (and my final undergraduate class) and it was really great. Profs with energy make it all worthwhile. I think I'm going to try really hard to do well in this class -- especially since it's in french and it takes twice the effort for me to learn in french. I'm excited to start working on it.

Tomorrow: Pool time!

What Are You Thinking About?

I'm thinking about mortality lately. My father's mother is dying and the whole thing is very surreal. My mother called me last night but I had forgotten my phone at work. When I checked my messages this morning she left me one asking me to call her back. The tone of her voice was very low, so I knew something was wrong. I called home and my stepdad told me my grandmother wasn't well. I called my mom at work and she gave me more details. She's in palliative care, which is were people go during their last days. They get the best nurses, the best care, the most comfortable beds and anything else that can ease their pain.

Pain. My mother passed along a message to me from my grandmother, she said 'ask her to say a prayer for me tonight, because children's prayers are stronger than adult prayers'. Something in me is praying for her pain to disappear. There's something in me that doesn't feel prepared for this at all. Even trying to gauge how close I was to her to measure how I will react to this is proving to be impossible. I know it's impossible to anticipate or control our reactions, but something in me is trying to plan or make sense of this situation.

I feel like I'm centered in all of this, that's why it's all a little bit confusing. So far I have been really calm and relaxed for the last few days. All I want to do is be there for them..

It's interesting how since I've made it my resolution to stop worrying, I stumble upon all the worry-related art/graphic stuff. Maybe the whole world has resolved to stop worrying..

Shedding

I decided I would stop worrying this year, but I started it out in a full-blown worry fest. Worrying about leaving NB (because of a huge snowstorm), worrying about some friends I don't see often, worrying about getting back on time, worrying about finding a new roommate. We got home at 6.30am. I lied down in my bed and said to myself 'all you have to do right now is sleep, that's all you need to do' a few seconds later I fell asleep.

How will I stop worrying? Eating well (helping my mood and my budget), swimming when I can, doing my schoolwork for real, and other big things like learning to accept myself, following my heart, taking time for myself, and doing things out of love. If love can be my motivation behind everything I do, then wouldn't it be much easier to live happily? If you do everything with love, then you could never be disappointed or unsatisfied with your activities. I anticipate this will be a very difficult challenge, probably more difficult than being present.

I feel up for the challenge right now, after all, last night I made my very first Julia Child meal. It was awesome. It'll be even more awesome when I begin to understand the logic behind cooking and I can make the recipes from memory.

I want to grow! I want to grow out of love and into love! La-la-la-la-love!