Oh, to blog! perchance to dream!


HAPPYHAPPYHAPPYHAPPY! this is one of my top three best Christmas presents for sure!*
The site has been down for various reasons, all of them to do with natural disasters and the lack of money that comes with them.
To catch you all up - while the site is still up (and Kevin, I will call you on Tuesday, as soon as the holiday is over and get square with you. BLESS YOU! :D Thank you!), on October 7, I was in Myrtle Beach with Chris, it was our anniversary weekend, and he had to go on this loathsome Bike Week shoot, so i decided to go with him so we could be together and lessen the overall yuck of the job. Things were tight-ish (slow at the gallery, and I'd just started taking on more days there...) so Chris' sweet folks lent us 50$ for a nice seafood dinner while we were there (no, W!@V did not give him any allowance. The didn't WANT to pay for a hotel room, but instead to try to get a room with strange biker women. Hm.***). We started 'rolling' around 11am. The day was cold, there were drunken bikers EVERYwhere, it was souvenir strip-mall hell, there were issues with the talent - it was hard to maintain the perky - but we were doing ok. We knew that at 6:30pm we were OUTTATHERE and on our way to a good seafood dinner, then a long drive home with our lovely Tamagachi (Chris' mp3 player, loaded with all our faves...). HOWEVER, at about 6 pm, I was standing inside a booth, actually, inside, in-between TWO booths, tents, one with little handmade hats and the other was a guy who sold clothing and patches and did patch stitching on an antique Singer. I was just pointing the hats out to Chris when I heard someone yell "HEY! HEY!" and I turned just in time to see a man coming toward me on a motorcycle. He hit me head-on, knocked me about 4 feet through the air - and several boxes full of beer - so I got to land on tarmac, amidst broken beer bottles - yippee. The man got off of his 1938 Indian motorcycle (which he parked carefully after hitting me) and and then rushed over and pulled me up off the ground. He said "God, it's a good thing you've got a few extra pounds on you!" and then the fun began...
Needless to say we spent all evening in the ER, i was beer-wet and cold the whole time, and though they x-rayed me thoroughly they did no internal injury checks. Then they doped me up and sent me on the 5-hour ride home - which turned into 10 hours because Chris was so exhausted, and I was unable to drive or stay completely awake, so we spent a couple of hours here and there sleeping on the roadside.
The next two weeks were tough. In pain, out of work, unable to care for myself and Chris unable to miss work to care for me. If it weren't for my girlfriends, the beloved Valkyries, i don't know what I'd have done... Finances started slipping more, I couldn't even do my jewelry work, much less manage the shop. Our computer was down, so I had to outsource all my press work, and then Chris got the shingles. Despite the pain, he never missed a day of work, and kept pushing through, because things were getting so lean. A little over a month later - I had been sitting the shop for two weeks and starting to get mobility/feeling/coordination back enough to do my work - we went on our first outing since the accident. We went to the Charlotte ren-faire with the Stewart and the kids. It was a nice day. We got home late-ish, and right as we were heading to bed, there was a bright flash, the walls began to sizzle, the lights got brighter and then all of our electronics exploded. Let me just say at this point that there was MAJOR freakage on my part. We were trapped inside a dark, sizzling, smoke-filled house - with both of our animals - and couldn't go outside because of the live wire sizzling on the ground outside. The wind had dropped a limb and knocked out our ground wire. The firemen came and told us that it wasn't safe to live there (this was less than 2 weeks before Thanksgiving) anymore.
O' the freakage had only just begun.
SO. We began to pack up my life of the last 8 years. I've never lived anywhere longer. I was still feeling the effects BEING HIT BY A !@#$ MOTORCYCLE****, Chris was struggling to work more than full time and help me cope with the disaster. The computer - which we had JUST had Kevin repair - the TV, DVD player, etc - everything that was plugged in - were destroyed, and we had no place to put all our stuff, no place to comfortable be together... it was pretty damned bad.
We kept working though, and good fortune sent us a comfortable rental with a woman willing to lower the rent to help us. We had to borrow money from his parents to pay the rent because my landlord had already spent all of our Nov. rent (this happened on the 12th) and all the money Chris had made in overtime working at both stations full time in the summer was in our propane tank (and we thought we were being so smart..) at the old house and he was unable to reimburse us for that as well. About a week after we moved in Chris' car - our only working vehicle at the time (the Duke power guys and our neighbor had to PUSH my truck across the road at 2 am on the night of the !@#$ because it wouldn't start... that was a low moment, lemme tellya.) - just died. Engine froze. Never to be repaired. Two days after that, his boss called him in EARLY to fire him. Our power never got reconnected in the new place (they claim we never called), so when our new landlord had her name taken off - as we asked her to do per the Duke Power instructions from the call they claimed never happened - they charged us 250$ to reconnect.


...

...

...

As they say, when you're at the bottom, there's only one direction...
I started working my @$$ off because Christmas is a good time for my work. We both started taking any and all part-time work we could get, and feeling thankful that we had some choices.
We started saving, we made some phone calls and found another car that we were able to 1/2 pay, 1/2 barter for. We got my truck running, we were gifted with a tv and dvd player from a couple of good friends, and his parents gave us their old pc - all three of which are key to my work. I have been working from before sun-up to late every day making things to sell, doing commissions, making Christmas prezzies and working for The Shepherds' Feast, which is a Christmas day feast for any and all, with music and prezzies for children and poems and all good things. I'm tired, but it's been worth it. I'm really lucky that my work brings me so much joy. Chris has been working his @$$ off too, pulling all my slack. I took on extra delivery routes and baking days and babysitting, so Chris had to watch the shop and help make the Christmas prezzies and keep up the house and make sure I was eating. His family were more than kind and helpful and thanks to them and good commissions, we were able to fill the propane tank at the new house (which, by the way, is beautiful and big and full of light. I wish we could keep it. We have until April. If you know of any nice rentals, call us!). We have socked away enough for rent and basic bills for the next two months. We're not paying for the internet, we got rid of our storage place, we're using less gas - because we can walk to work every day. We have yet to pay back the parentii and the WebClaus, but they are on our list, and little by little, we are rebuilding our media empire. We were even able to splurge a little at Christmas. I used my generous and kind bonus from the bakery to buy myself a pretty pair of dress Keens (in black - so now i have summer outdoor ones, closed/winter outdoor ones - good for work and in the kitchen and dress ones! happy feet!) and Chris bought a ticket to Filmapalooza in March. We're saving for his plane ticket now, but his grandma lives in the city, so we don't have to pay for his room or car!

One of the things that has hurt me the most through all of this, was the loss of the computer - and specifically of my website. Not only was the computer essential to my work, but there are so many people with whom I can only reliably and inexpensively stay in touch through the 'net. I have felt starved for their contact. And I was able to see how much my website means to me as an ability to express myself and make sense of my life and the pain that comes at hard times, both new and remembered. The fire brought back hard old memories - the oldest, in fact. The moving, the desperation... and I could only reach out so far. It was hard. I intend to write my webhost - who has been a friend and has posted my page for little - really nothing - for years and see what I can do to thank him and reimburse him for this gift. It was so good to sign on (we're at Sarah's, Raven-sitting while she's away) and see messages to my blogspot... it made me feel REAL again.
I will do what I can to keep Sam's Day Off alive... 'cause it's plain to me how much Sam's Day Off helps keep me alive, and from the messages, some of you, too. Not only alive, but updated. Stewart has been promising me that as soon as we can, we will update, but neither hid not Kevin's kindness has been enough in the face of this steaming pile of adversity.
However, it's a new year, and I am blogging right now (HUZZAH!) and things are already looking better, so ONWARD AND UPWARD!
Thank you all! We love you and are grateful for you to the last molecule of us!
XOXOXOXOXOX
Sam and Chris and George and Luna


*Aunt Sue's happy news, my lovely warm shawl from M-O-L, and I'll put in Stewart's happy news to make it FOUR! Four best Christmas presents! *Oh, !@#$.* **
**Sorry Python joke.
***by the way, this is absolutely true.
****(his clutch broke, btw. I mean, the bike is !@#$ 68 years old, hello! AND he was being filmed by the !@#$ Discovery Channel when it happened. They INTERVIEWED ME - in THAT STATE. My !@#$ luck, huh?)

To KF - who's birfday is actually tomorrow - June 3. :)

There is a girl in the Kingdom of Loathing,

who’s pretty !@#$ 7337.
She’s 100% AdventuressQueen from her head down to her

cute lil feet.
She’s Naughtier than Teh Sorceress

and Bossier than Teh Bat
(and of this I’m sure, because I know her well and she’s always stealing my hat!).
She gives good prezzy and she makes good jokes,
and whenever you’re down, she gives good “pokes”*.
She’s a whole lot sassy, a little bit sneaky,
- and when she hoses teh Yilf, it gets pretty squeaky,
it’s her birfday today, so let’s all be Geeky –
Celebrate! Get Kaos-Freaky!

MUCH love!D.L’O


*for non-adventurers, this is NOT a naughty thing.

My 00100011 00110001 Girl*
By Sam Lovelace

This is part of the reason why I've been so quiet lately. I've also finished 70 new pieces of jewelry, two wishbooks, and painted 4 articles of clothing, plus done all the rack cards, business cards and tags for the shop and rack cards for Karen... not all that I wanted to do, but a good start. I still have to make her dress (she's going to have a clear plastic 50's sundress :) tomorrow and get her lights put in (her brain and heart light up - whee!), get all my jewelry tagged, get my display stuff in shape (it's together, i just need to dust and polish). The Saluda Arts Festival is this Saturday, May 20, from 10 - 7. Please come out - and wish us luck!
I've worked myself sick and silly, but every single second, even if my back was aching or my fingers throbbing, was a moment filled with love and joy and appreciation of my accomplish-ments. it's felt good to have other people '00' and 'ah' over my work (and to have Rick Conn shake my hand and congratulate me, as if i'd given birth, and talk shop with me as a serious fellow artist for the first time in all the years i've know him*** ee! :) but the best feeling is standing back from my work (or in one case, spreading all my beautiful jewelry out over the pale blue coverlet... :) and feeling my heart fill like a new well with satisfaction and pleasure. YAY!
I could never go back to YellowBureaucratRedTapeBrownNoseLand, and the way my commissions are stacking up, it looks as if I won't have to. :) (*knock wood*. psh, i think i'd start a !#$% boiled peanut stand or something before i'd go back to micromanagementhell - "i'd rather die on my feet than live reading memos!")
Ok, back to the grind... i have a 1:00 deadline today that can't be missed. :) Thank you all for supoprting me and encouraging me - and for buying my art! i'll post more pics of my botgirl when she's finished.
Much love,
-s.


*
01010100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 00111000 00101101 01100010 01101001 01110100 00100000 01000001 01010011 01000011 01001001 01001001 00100000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110011 01101100 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01100100 01100101 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 00100000 00100010 00100011 00110001 00100010 00101110 **

**
This is the 8-bit ASCII translation of the binary code for "#1".

***not that this lovely, amazing man has EVER talked down to me, and he has always encouraged me, but let's face it, he's in a COMPLETELY different league than me. BIGtime. :)

we've had a strange tragedy touch us recently, and investigating it led me to read the blogs and live journals of some sad, desperate, broken, lonely - to the point of dangerous to themselves and others - people. i wrote this in response to that, as a prayer, as a message to people to ask for help, as a reminder.


A Prayer for Strength and Time

God make me a prayer wheel.
Let me be a drum that hums and sifts the sins of our imagining.
Let me be the etched, worn, scarred and resonant cymbal that sends the pleas of broken people to your infinite ears.
Let me be spun, and sung to, weathered by the hopeful pressure of all hands, each different, each worthy of at least one bid to Heaven.
Let me be a voice,
Let me be a vision,
Let me be a call to fall to one’s knees and weep, open-hearted in gratitude.
Let me be part of the subconscious tremor, deep and rhythmic as the night sky,
that breaks mountains and moves your Heart.


-s.l.lovelace 04/21/06

Happy Birthday, Hypo Luxa!

Warning: the contents of this particular blog are only for very depraved and naughty individuals - especially those celebrating their birthday today! ;)

I hope you enjoy your prezzie, dear! I am in all of these pics (yes, even the one I like to call "Oops, How'd That Get In Here?" - that's my little hand there on the left. I'd just been knocked to the floor by a drunkiehumpling girlfriend and took the opportunity - camera always in hand - as I found it! :), and our dear Andalouse is in a couple of them too. These are from last years' Dragon Con, and yes, we were Reform School Fairies! ;D

I got up early this a.m. so you could begin your day/week/weekend of birthday-ness in the spirit of girls in vinyl dresses and black-tattered-pierced wings with tattoos, garter belts, black eyes and big, um, GRINS. Oh and people who like you, despite the fact that that they think you are a figment of their imagination. ;D

Have a good one, darlin'!
Much love (and more blue messages),

D.L'O

america by sl lovelace



Happy Anti-Valentine’s Day, CG. (I posted the whole thing, along with your KoL valentine, on my LJ page. I thought the geeks would enjoy it. There's also a nice link to some Star Wars valentineage... ;)

I wrote “We should show our love and appreciation EVERY day and not just on Feb. 14” on the vans’ back window this morning. Hee. Someone said it was the holiday specifically meant to make geeks feel even worse, and I’ve discovered a new level of valentine’s day suck – if you're seeing someone, and are any kind of a decent person, you feel bad for your single friends trying to maneuver their way through this ridiculous marketing scam-day too. Then there’s the whole pressure to spend and do if you are seeing someone. !#$% that. Chris used the “holiday” as an excuse to buy me a watch that I needed (under 20$) and I used it as an excuse to buy him the office supplies that he needed. Stuff we had to buy, anyway. I also did him a piece of art, which I will share with you as well. :) heheheh. I like the idea of a day really celebrating love, but why just romantic love? And because it’s romantic love, there’s all the stupid, formulaic present crap too. !#$%^&* it to !#$%!

What really sucks is that I LOVE the decorations/functions/clothes for this crap-ass bull$#*! holiday, of course I do! Hearts, lace, sparklies, flowers, ribbons, chocolate, red, pink, black, satin, velvet, lingerie, dances, whee! – ‘Pie Heaven! So I think that we should do two things. On Feb. 14, we should try to start a revolution and take the romantic strictures out of V-Day. We should celebrate Love day, love your whatever, mom, car, dog, self, girls called "Susie-Q" - all of the above, just celebrate Love, in whatever way (hopefully NOT supporting The Industry – if you want to go traditional, pick flowers, make a card, cook dinner – if you feel you have to buy, buy handmade and local...) - you see fit. Not everybody has a boy/girlfriend, but everybody has some love. This would be a good day to remind each other of that. If you think you don’t have any love go look for some other people – or creatures who might feel the same way. That will make them feel loved, and they’ll love you for it.

The OTHER thing we need to do – and this will help ze revolution – we should move the décor/lingerie/chocolate side of this stupid-ass-money-making-for-the-!@#$-flowercardcandycrap-corporation-so-called “holiday”* (I got your treats at a local $tree knockoff store, and some of it – like the ribbon, was leftover xmas! Yay!) TO MY BIRTHDAY – and the birthday of anyone who wants a champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberry (ok, in your case, hazelnut...), spa/facial/manicure, new lingerie, velvet, ribbons, hearts, flowers, dress-up, get sparkly, go out, go dance, go see a movie -etc. birthday! (Wow, wouldn’t it be cool to have a friend who’s birthday came on Love Day?**)

IT IS DECREED! ;)
VIVA LA REVOLUTION!

Happy Love Day. For what it’s worth, I love you. (to blogdom: well, most of you. Some of you are just gonna’ have to wait ‘til your birthday.)
Much love,
-;pie)


*which, as someone else pointed out to me today, you don’t even get off work...

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WetRats! Now there’s a guy who needs a “spa day” and some chocolate*** if I ever saw one.

***not to mention his own birthday footnote.

These pics are for Chris (Lorenalis, not X) and all of us who are missing summer tastes and smells and sights and sounds (not to mention the feel of warm sun on your skin, or warm night air under a full moon, with a big bite of cotton candy melting on your tongue...). Soon, soon!

And to you, Carol. :) You understand me. We are like two old lions. :)

Welcome to 'Your Arts Desire'...



Here are some pics to illustrate the nicer part of yesterdays' blog. There's the twig chair that sits by the door of the shop (that white wrought iron thingy in the window is one of my displays), and that's Linda, our founding mum standing out in our parking lot... she was being my photo assistant that day. Here are two of her pieces that I think really show her range of style, from whimsical and detailed, to primitive and spiritual. She also did our nice sign. The other day, she let me have some white porcelain to sculpt a hand and a neck to display my jewelry on, and now she says I should also do a sexy foot and ankle in a nice high-heel! I'm going to do a wedgie sandal so I can paint the toenails! :)
I'll post some pics of other artists and my own work next, and I have a better pic of the storefront somwhere too.
Much love,
-Sam

Happy new year, everyone.
I know, it’s nigh mid-February, but you all know that sometimes, I need a good run-up. In some cases, as much as 37 years.
I’ve been thinking a lot since Christmas, about what this year might hold in store. Especially about the fact that I am creeping into 40 as a person that I’m not exactly proud to be. I love myself – but not enough. I like myself more than I love myself. Respect, admiration and love are most often NOT the same things. But there are so many things that I am sorry for and ashamed of. I am sorry that I am not a better friend (though I know that you all know that when I try and take the time, I give it my whole heart... Maybe that’s part of the problem – whatever I do I give it my whole heart, and while that is in my view, there is nothing else. I don’t think that means I have a narrow view. Sometimes (too often for my sanity’s sake) I can see and feel huge masses of the worlds’ pain, I feel like I’ve glimpsed the whole of it once or twice. But at those times, it is almost impossible to see ANYthing. I could cut off my hand and not notice.
I’m sorry that I’m not a better sister/niece/cousin. I’m sorry that I’m so bad at keeping in touch and keeping what are, to me, social promises. I think of my family and friends all the time. My closest family* and my closest friends** I think of every day, sometimes several times a day, but it is always while I am doing other things. Driving my mind and heart and body to not be still
I have discovered that I suffer from ... I suppose a kind of mania; maybe OCD of some variety, or maybe just finely tuned (or just highly strung) human nature ; but if I let myself get still and quiet for too long, I get deeply, messily, uncontrollably sad. (See, I am suddenly thinking about specific family members again...) It takes a lot of intense work to keep me distracted enough to not feel the whole of it. If I want to relax or ... not work, not be busy... I have to be either a little inebriated (a single glass of wine, thankfully, is enough to serve this purpose, though a martini or g&t upon occasion is nice.), or have something else occupying my conscious mind (a really good movie or book is the best) or else my unconscious mind will almost immediately collapse me into a screaming, crying, lying-on-the-bottom-of-the-tub, miserable heap. Not fun. Chris really hates it. Fishing me out of the tub, sobbing or trying to coax me out of the bottom of the closet are the worst. Ok, second worst. Sometimes I get mad instead of sad.
Of course, complete annihilation of the reality of my past and the awfulness the whole world over is not only unrealistic and detrimental, but it’s also a moral crime to ignore your own problems or any one elses, as well as ignore the true awful*** beauty of god’s creation. However, when one of your main problems is how suicidally hopeless and depressed you get when you allow yourself to be aware of the scope of others’ pain, things get a little tricky.
My art is the balance place. It’s the steam-valve. It’s where I can stay busy and vent my feelings. I can also use it to alleviate my financial struggle a little, and add a little art to some lives. I can spend the time when I am creating and venting meditating on what’s troubling me, or thinking about my loved ones or praying for the alleviation of the suffering of others. I thank the powers that be – even if those are just my !@#$%* parents’ lucky accidental genes – every day for the gift of my creative and learning ability, for without it I would be dead or worse.

This is still no excuse for not being a better sister, friend, niece, neighbor, correspondent, person-in-general. I don’t live as well or responsibly as I should. I am faaaaar from model citizen, I don’t think that Jesus cares if I’m a Christian or not****, I need to take better care of myself, I’m unacceptably judgmental and impatient – Christopher, I’m sorry a thousand times over every day – I’m a packrat and a bad housekeeper. I worry that kids will look up to me. I don’t listen as well as I should (but I promise you all that I listen MUCH more than it appears I do!). I’m stubborn, oh dear god, am I stubborn. I feel bad for all of my friends, and I really do try to rein in these terrible things, to control them and teach myself to feel differently about things.
My new years’ resolution last year was to not be such a doormat – to be more open about my true feelings. This made people laugh and I failed miserably on the only important count. (Do ask me about this sometime, Andi, when the mood is right, and you don’t have any heavy, blunt objects in your hand.) I know why Chris and others laughed, but I think I meant, along with being more open and honest, that I also wanted to try to be more gentle and kind and open-minded. *Phew*. This is how I know what a bad person I can really be, because I have been consciously trying to curb my terrible nature all year, and so I have been more aware. Again my friends, I am sorry.
This years’ resolution is to be less forward with my opinions. *Whew*. I am going to need energy bars, a suicide watch, and maybe my own little sherpa full of monks in the back yard. I haven’t abandoned last years’ either. I suppose the ultimate goal is to merge those two ways of being (as if I might even ever successfully achieve EITHER?) and so be spare in my judgment and opinions, and when I do speak, then people will hopefully know that I’ve really given it some thought, that it is important to me, and that I am truly meaning to be honest and kind.

The people I have been most sorry about not keeping in better contact with are Sandy, my siblings (Karly et al are siblings), Aunt Sue and Tedd. Especially Sandy. I feel like I should ask for forgiveness, but don’t really think that I should be forgiven, or that it would change anything. I simply have a hard time forcing myself to slow down (not to mention visit the past) for anything that isn’t within my peripheral vision. Even my friends here who live in Asheville, 45 minutes away and dear Sarah, who is just in the valley, and even Stewart of all people, have to call me and just sort of demand my time. In order to spend time with Sarah last night, I had to take my work over (making journals for channel 13 & the shop) and we put Corpse Bride on. I am happy to report though that work was abandoned, we half-watched the movie, vented and plotted and fantasized and laughed and talked art and inspiration, ate some pizza, looked at funny stuff on the ‘net. It turned out that the whole purpose for bringing my work stuff over was to inspire Sarah to get her art supplies in order, get her studio dusted out, and plan an art-supply (and club clothes! Woo!) shopping trip – yay! (Am not having to try too hard to comfort myself over the guilt of not getting some work done...)

[ok, Sue, Here’s the news for Alice! :]

And speaking of work, and how I'm keeping all my demons at bay, for those of you who don’t know (some folks have had a sneak preview), here’s what’s happening. I’ve been learning to cook in a gourmet restaurant since September (I started there not long before we auditioned for 'Greetings!'). It’s called Persimmons Bistro & Tea Room. I LOVE it. They cook world cuisine (which translates to: whatever suits chef/diners’ fancy). So we have sushi Tuesday and prime rib Thursday. Then there might be a wine dinner night with elk and boar, or maybe a little quail eggs and truffle oil. Fresh fish shipped from Hawaii each week, good cheeses, good wine, good crew. There’s a little tea room with pastries, good teas and coffees, cappuccino, espresso, and awesome lunches, hot and cold. Chili, potato leek soup, prime rib stew, “Pumpkin Molasses Bisque” mmmm!!! From simple chicken salad and curry chicken salad to whatever we feel like cooking. Chef always has some gorgeous chops or ham or chicken in there, Sara does the main chicken and pasta salads, and I handle the weirdies – thai coconut noodles, pasta jambalaya, mandarin roasted tofu kebabs, vegan salade nicoise – I like the spicy and foreign and healthy (believe it or not). My Indonesian rice salad (a variation on moosewood, nink) is my most popular, but my tofu kebabs and my bacon/sour cream/horseradish/chive potato salad are close. I spend two days a week there (T/W – I’m still delivering bread on Mondays. One of my stops is Persimmons. We make our own focaccia, but all of our sandwich bread is Wildflour. :) And spend sometimes half of Wed. and Thu. in the pastry kitchen with Ally. That is really an education. I have made some of the most beautiful, delicious deserts in the last several months, but there was a time when I would have honestly admitted that, though I can make some good stove-top soul food, a mean salsa, and even some damned good biscuits and corn bread, I was NEVER a baker. Too much precision and patience involved. Too much actual measuring and mixing - too delicate. I couldn’t even really do a good job on boxed cakes. But having a good place to work and learn, a good range of well-organized ingredients, and a very skilled and patient teacher can make a lot of difference. There is a lovely zen to baking, and it is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, an art.
Debi even asked me if I’d guest-chef a brunch at the Wildflour this season.
Wow.

I get off work early enough on M/T/W/T that if I need to work on jewelry, commissions or whatever pending projects I have, I can get things settled in the house, have dinner with X, then set up my work tables in front of the couch and he and I can watch a movie while I bead or draw or whatever.

Then on Fridays, I get up and drive to Saluda with Chris and my little suitcase, we have a nice breakfast at the bakery, and then I take my little key, and go through the courtyard, past the other pretty little shops (The Brass Latch and The Gardeners Cottage – mm!) and unlock the door to OUR OWN SHOP – “Your Arts Desire”. My friend Linda got the bright idea to start an artists’ co-op in Saluda. When we began, there were 6 of us. Now there are 14, and the shop is beautiful. We are all paying our shop bills and making a profit on top of that. The ‘founding members’ all mind the shop one day a week, and my day is Friday. I take my bead stuff, and maybe a book. I turn on all our little lights (Dave Prudhomme, our NOLA-born wood-turner bought and installed tracklights!) and do a general check over all our pretties - We have paintings and drawings, ceramics, handmade silver, turned bowls, hooked rugs, hand-painted pillows and handmade purses, fused glass jewelry, pretty birdhouses, hand-made greeting cards, ornaments, blown glass, and of course, “Southern Charms” beaded glass jewelry and handmade journals. :) I record the daily balance (we even have a checking account and tax numbers and all that grown-up, real stuff! ) and write in the journal that we keep. I read a little maybe, and drink my coffee, then I put on some nice music, set up my bead-stuff, put on a pot of water for cocoa later, and work and wait for visitors and other artists to drop in! We have a little class room, so that we can teach classes, and there’s stuff for sale in there, too. We all pay less than 40$ a month for the privilege, and we all have say in what we sell and how the shop looks. It’s a good peaceful group. Everyone gets along, everyone supports and inspires each other, and everyone sells stuff. It is my Arts Desire. :)

Then, there’s the big news (or “What does Sam do on the Weekends?”) Well, usually take a stab at a little housework, find time to see Chris’ folks or my friends, or even just hide a little, veg and work and watch a movie while I do laundry, and I’ll still have some weekends for that, but at least two weekends a month, I’ll be out researching, planning and preparing for my travel show that will be coming to the new cable access channel 20 in Asheville, URTV. :D :D :D
It’s called “A Lowlanders’ Guide to the Mountains” (for now. Things have a way of changing, and I’m cool with that, but...) I chose that title because no matter how beautiful it is here, it is still not, and will never be, home. From what my siblings tell me, neither is home anymore, not since last September, so that adds an element to this show, too. I have spent a lot of time roaming these valleys and towns, looking for the places that remind me of home. Not just the land, though I do miss flat deep water and big open sky, but the people, the old general stores, the places to eat that have lots of trucks with dog-boxes parked outside. You get the drift – at least, if you’re a true southerner you do. :)
My show will feature those aspects of all the hundreds of beautiful little out-of-the-way places within a days’ drive of Asheville. Lawn art, old-timers in hardware stores, good diners, nice little shops, interesting local people and history. This area is so rich, and I know I will enjoy this exploration. Chris is producing the show – meaning he’s handling all the non-art part of it, as well as the very important art part of it, he will be my cameraman. I am going through the local college radio stations to get music from local bands - bluegrass, gospel, country, jam, whatever fits the towns I’m featuring, and will get some good exposure (hopefully) for local bands. The people at URTV are stoked, and so are Chris and I. He is also producing his own show, and there’s been lots of buzz amongst the film/media art crowd in Asheville about that. It’s called “Videobot” and he’ll be showing lesser known independent short film and video, hopefully featuring lots of local talent, but also national and international film and music too. His very first submission came from THE Capitol Records in Hollywood. We were so excited! :)

So much to do, so much to learn, but we really are, in our small way, living our dreams.

I suppose this is my way of saying that I know I’m not physically, consciously a good correspondent, and that I’m aware that I should seem more present. But I’ve never been, and I’ve tried. I have little spurts, and I’ll get a wild hair and send a card, or even (*gasp!*) call somebody, but then I feel guilty about whoever I didn’t write to or call, and have to spend more time distracting myself from how guilty I feel and work even HARDER. I can at least let you all know that I love you, and think of you, and if you were nearer, you would at least see me and talk to me more than once a year or so. I manage to see some of my local girlies at least once a month. That’s a good record for me. I shamelessly admit that I appreciate it when people call me, because often I will just stop what I am doing and catch up a little, or call back when I can, because otherwise, I just use my phone for practical calls.
The other thing I can assure you of is that, even if I weren’t so consumed with work and art and sadness, I would still be a bad correspondent, maybe an even worse one, out of shame or further negligence, so I’m glad that I am furiously filling my time with good, productive stuff instead of all the bad things I could be doing - things I have done in the past. From couch potato to loony bin ward... *sheesh*. Now that I finally have the internet again, I try to check my mail every other day at the least, and to write a blog every few days. I’ve just been putting off a real blog until now, because I had all of this to say, all these “I’m sorrys”, and all these shameful admittances, and even though I’m not sure why I should hope for it, it’s nice to feel forgiven, which in my mind means: loved and understood.

Thank you.
-sam




*Joe, Ellie, Jeff (Happy Birthday, “Ole Man”), Shawn, Mandy, Charlyn&Clan; Sue&Clan, Robbie, etc. – even, maybe sometimes especially the ones gone, or not in my life at all.

**Sandy, Rory, Ninka, Pablo, Karl, Hank, Terry, Joey, LeLa sisters&clan, Pam... – y’all all know who y’all be.

*** Awful:
1. Extremely bad or unpleasant; terrible: had an awful day at the office.
2.Commanding awe: “this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath” (Herman Melville).
3.Filled with awe, especially: Filled with or displaying great reverence .Obsolete. Afraid.
4.Formidable in nature or extent: an awful burden; an awful risk.

****I really do believe in my heart that he loves me just as I am.

Good morning and SURPRISE! Guess who's back online? Today's post - and hopefully many future, (fairly) regular posts to come - has been brought to you by Dell comprudahs, Epson printer/scanners, Fuji Finepix, Alltel DSL and my sweet beau who used his graduation $, birthday $ & wiles to hook all of this up. :) THANK YOU, X!

I have LOTS of good news to share, but this mornings' pre-work (even pre-bath & coffee) post will be a short and simple one. I am posting this as an illustration for Seamus, but I don't think anyone will complain. Seamus is a new dad, and I was telling him how much I love those little downy baby-heads, and of course I had to share tales of my little local cadre of babies, my 2 year olds - Aeryn, Ariana & Elsa (with little bitty Izzy coming up behind - she's about 9 months now, and I don't have pics - yet!). Yes, Ally, I was telling him how funny it is to watch parents get to the point where they can leave their little ones with a sitter and that I would laugh at him and Harv-mama when the time comes. I feel extra privileged at being one of the trusted sitters, (Andi even let me keep Aeryn (Duckie) when she was little little!)
So what better way to use all this nice new equipment than to shamelessly auntie-brag? Here are my girls and their little downie heads: Aeryn in her Xmas pic, Elsa-Bug in pink and Sprout i n blue downtown shadow...
oh, how blessed I am!
more blog later, and
much love,
-s

Here's the article from today's TDB about our play - WHICH OPENS TOMORROW!!! AUGH!! EE! WHEEEE!!!
:D
Please come see it - all the info for calling for tickets is here, or if you wanna, come see it free tonight for the final dress rehearsal!

"TLT’s ‘Greetings!’ offers laughter, love and miracles"
November 30, 2005
When Tryon Little Theater “Greetings!” director Peter Saputo was recently asked “What’s your play about?”, he quickly responded: “Oh, about two hours!”
Giving a sound-bite summary of this very special play is not easy. “Greetings!” brings rich delighted laughter from its audiences, and also touches the heart deeply. And as one critic said, “‘Greetings!’ should become as much a part of the winter holiday season as ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and ‘A Christmas Carol.’” Says Saputo, “What is this play about? It’s about a family. A family at Christmas. It’s about religion and about our beliefs in religion. It is about how we come to have those beliefs and why we cling to them. It is about challenge. Challenges to our belief systems; challenges to our ways of life and those daily routines that keep us comfortable and feeling safe; and it is about what happens to us when something unthinkable comes along and challenges everything we believe in. In other words, it is about two hours. Two very busy and event-filled hours.” Phil and Emily Gorski (Mike Johnson and Frances McCain) are a staunch Catholic family, living in Pittsburgh and preparing for Christmas, which is just around the corner. Their two sons, Andy (Scott Gramer) and Mickey (Chris Riddle), will be sharing this holiday with them. Andy is a TV ad copy writer in New York. He has been raised Catholic and although he maintains a religious attitude, he is what is called a “fallen-away” Catholic. Mickey, his younger brother, though in his 20s is mentally disabled and has the intellectual capacity of a three-year-old. Mickey does now and always has resided at home. This particular Christmas will be a special one for the Gorski family, in more ways than one. Andy is bringing home his fiancée, Randi (Sam Lovelace), a Jewish atheist. While Andy has not become an atheist himself, he accepts Randi’s point-of-view and finds no problem with her belief system. This will definitely not be the case for the parents, especially Phil, the father. This rakes up old wounds and battles between the father and son which threaten to come to a head on this particular holiday. Suddenly, however, they are visited by an “entity” that has taken up residence in Mickey’s body. His name is Lucius and he refers to Mickey as his “host.” It seems that Mickey has “invited” Lucius to be there this Christmas to share his wisdom and his love with this warring family. Concludes Saputo, “So. What is this play about? Well – it is about a miracle. It is about family and love and religion. It is about two hours.” “Greetings” will play at the Tryon Little Theater Workshop, 516 South Trade Street, Dec, 1-11: Thursdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m., and Sundays at 3 p.m. The box office is open 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. and an hour before each performance. For reservations: 859-2466.

WARNING:
The following is an actual "You know what really !@#$% me off...?" RANT. If you are of a delicate disposition, please skip this and wait for my next "pretty pictures, nice words" post.
(Warning #2: These are some things that have been bugging me for a while, so go potty, get a drink, settle in... and please feel free to reply/chime in/gimme your two cents/ask if I'm talking about YOU at my www.samsdayoff.com guestbook or email me.) "May Bri-bro be with you." "And also with you."

These rants are a result of a discussion with a couple of most trusted friends who, when in frustration and desperation I asked them how to broach these very delicate subjects - things that really have been bothering me for a LONG time - with the (MULTIPLE) very delicate people responsible, they said "Write about it in your rant. You can at least get all this anger and hurt and frustration off your chest, and then if they a. happen to read it, b. happen to recognize themselves, c. happen to have the balls to discuss it with you, then it will be out in the open, and the ball will finally be in their court. If they DO read it, and ignore it, well, then... your decision will be that much easier to make. Tell them to their face and take the chance of hurting them, or just write them off and walk away." I know that a lot of people who are not guilty of these ... dumb-ass infractions will read this and wonder, and I decided that that's ok too. We could all - maybe ESPECIALLY myself - do with a little soul-searching introspection. If I'm not talking about you, you'll know it. If there's any doubt (and I had - maybe still have a little - doubt about myself on both of these counts - from one angle or another - trust me...) then it can't hurt to talk to a friend about it anyway, and take the time to find out if you are being a true friend yourself. If you're perfect, and you've stopped growing and changing and learning and becoming a better, more aware, more understanding person, then that's amazing... but I feel a little sad for you, 'cause what's left?

First things first.
If you are friends with someone, and they are having a CON-VER-SA-TION* with you about things that are happening in their lives, either pretend to at least show a LITTLE interest, or tell them flat out "Would you please stop talking about all the interesting things that I'm NOT doing so I can talk about something that interests ME - mainly ME?" so that they can make an informed decision and either tell you to go do nigh-impossible things to yourself, or better yet, go get some MATURE, self-aware**, self-confident**, socially adept friends?
Here's a sample of what NOT to do:
"Hey Jack/Jill, how's it going?"
"Oh, fine Dick/Jane. Actually it's going really well! I just finished a tough creative project that I've been working on for months/I'm working with a Children's Cancer charity/I've just begun taking ball-room dancing lessons!"
"Hm. Have I shown you my latest collection of pet rocks?"

Now, here's a sample of what TO do:
"Hey Jack/Jill, how's it going?"
"Oh, fine Dick/Jane. Actually it's going really well! I just finished a tough creative project that I've been working on for months, I'm working with a Children's Cancer charity, and I've just begun taking ball-room dancing lessons!"
"How neat! What's the project/how are the children/what have you learned so far?"

I promise, the conversation WILL eventually come around to your favorite subject. That's how CON-VER-SA-TION works. That's also how FRIENDSHIP works. If you feel as if your friends are rubbing their events and/or accomplishments in your face, then either re-think your perspective (because if you are really friends, they AREN'T - they just want to share their excitement with you - this is a GIFT. It's called "SHARING".) or SAY SO, and allow them to explain and/or apologize. If you KNOW that you are doing this, and you know that it's because you just don't have the same amount of action/adventure to share, then admit that, too... maybe your friends will be more willing to include you in their action/adventure in the future.
Or even better, maybe your version of action/adventure is just DIFFERENT from theirs, and they'll be just as happy to ask YOU about YOUR stuff when the conversation turns in that direction. In any event, check yourself! Ask yourself: Is this me?

I know I am being harsh here, but this has happened to me quite a few (many, many) times , with more than one person in whom I have invested with a great deal of emotional real estate, and it just flat-out HURTS. I pride myself on being able to say something to someone when they've hurt me, but in this case it's very hard because a person who does this obviously has hurts of their own that they (obviously? hopefully?) just don't know how to handle - and a good person, a loving, caring - AWARE - person, doesn't want to add insult to injury. I could also just - obviously - distance myself from these people, but 1. emotional real estate is never lightly invested and 2. someone like this OBVIOUSLY needs their friends. I know that I am, in a way, doing a terrible disservice by NOT saying something directly, because it is not just me who feels these snubs. Their other friends and family members suffer from this ... lack of awareness*** too... and I'm always the one who ends up being brave enough to say something - then being treated like complete $#*!& by everyone involved because I was the only one who was tired of just bitching about it/being treated like crap/cared enough to try to let them know that they were pissing off ALL of their friends. Lucky me.

Well, to hell with that. Check yourself. Ask yourself "Is this me?" I have. I've quizzed myself thoroughly on this over the months (YEARS) that I've had to get tired of this. If you find that I'm treating you like this, then maybe you need to double-check yourself, because chances are, I've gotten fed up with being snubbed by you and am not asking about your pet rocks because I feel that I've been treated so ill by you in the past and am trying to make a point. It is definitely NOT that I don't care about your pet rocks. I am not the Queen of the Geeks for nothing. I ask strangers in MallWort about their hobbies, interests, children, grandchildren, favorite colors, outfits, music... this is one of the reasons that people LIKE me and WANT TO BE AROUND ME. I really do care. Even if I'm not interested in the subject (deer hunting, magic cards, britney spears), I am interested in people's interest in the subject. This is a likeable trait!

Consider this as well: If you think that I am talking about you, keep in mind that despite this, you have not been abandoned, not by me or any of the other friends that you have alienated in this way,

This is all scratching the surface of a MUCH deeper rant subject, but that is more personal, and if any heads come out of any proctological areas long enough to notice any light-bulbs (however faint) then I will be DELIGHTED to expound on this in a one-on-one kind of way - if you're brave enough and REALLY willing to listen.

(By the way Jen, I am NOT talking about you. Ok? :)

Ok. Part two. And this one is extra hard, because the subject matter is extra-delicate, and I know a LOT of people who could be guilty of this, and quite a few who actually are. Smug mothers of the world, I'm talking to YOU.

I have a LOT of friends and family members with babies. Almost every single one of them were smart, strong, beautiful, talented, supportive, amazing women before they became mothers who also promised to be the same kind of mothers. Many of them kept that promise - and then some. However, something seemed to happen to quite a few of them that I cannot understand, and that makes me so angry that I almost can't see straight when I think about it. This is another one of those "check yourself" situations. You may not be guilty of this at all. You may have only been guilty of it on occasion - but that's enough. In my opinion, this ought to be a license-revoking offense. I am talking about treating your non-mom friends - women who, before you experienced mom-hood, you looked up to, went to for advice, respected, admired, etc. (possibly even for making the decision NOT to have children...) - as second-class citizens. I have friends who, before they had children, told me how much they respected my strength and wisdom, but who, since the whole baby event, have treated me like a complete dumbass. Who have actually said things like "Well, you just couldn't understand..." and who completely exclude me from entire conversations (not the ones about the sticky stuff. that, I don't mind...) or relegate me to baby-sitting and the kids' table, and whatever I seem practical for, like one of their older children, or like I am a kid myself.
I have gotten SO angry at times. I have felt like saying "DO YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS BECAUSE YOU REALLY FEEL THIS WAY? OR BECAUSE YOU'RE JEALOUS THAT YOU'VE GIVEN UP YOUR OWN FREEDOM?!?! One mom-friend told me that she thought this WAS the main reason that some of my mom-friends do this... i wondered if it was because they thought i was rubbing my freedom in their face, and I questioned myself on this, but I know I would never do this. THAT would be horrible. I couldn't live with myself if I were to do such a terrible thing. My friends and their extremely tough decisions which have turned into precious little people are to be respected, admired and supported and that's that. I have wondered about friends' choices to make this drastic, multi-life-changing decision, and I have very strong feelings about over-population, and about people's mental and emotional fitness when making this choice, but once the decision has been made, I have had nothing but respect for the women brave and optimistic enough to do so. Plus there's all these cute little new people to love and play with! I admit, I have wanted to scream "ARE YOU !#$% KIDDING? I CHANGED MORE DIAPERS, WIPED UP MORE PUKE, NURSED MORE PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY SICK AND INJURED KIDS THROUGH WORSE SITUATIONS THAN YOU CAN IMAGINE - not to mention dealt with home and school situations and laundry and trying to scrounge up food and trying to keep a family together - ETC. before I was FIFTEEN YEARS OLD than you (HOPEFULLY) will ever have to deal with in your LIFE - the possibilty of grandchildren INCLUDED - and you dare to say "You just couldn't understand..." to ME?!?!?! Just because I didn't carry a baby for nine months? !#$% YOU! (I need to start a blog called "pipe it up your fallopian tubes.com"!!!) It's not just me who gets this treatment, either. I have other no-baby friends who get this, and I have friends with ADOPTED children who get this - from women who, in the past, would have screamed at the thought of another woman being treated this way.

I have to believe that these women who, in the past, would have been appalled at the EXTREMELY mysoginistic idea that someone would be treated as less of a woman simply because they either made the choice ort had no choice about not giving birth, simply are not aware. I can't believe anything else. I think if you are reading this and checking yourself right now (and NO, JEN, IT'S NOT YOU! AGAIN! ;) you are probably appalled at the possibility that this might be you - just as I was appalled at the possibility that I might be making MY beloved mom-friends and family members feel that I thought THEY were lesser citizens because they DID choose the baby-path. I might feel that some tiny day-to-day decisions - like which way to school your baby - or bigger, not so day-to-day decisions - like whether or not to stay with an abusive spouse/parent need to be re-thought, but that's life, and friendship. If you DO think I treat you like a second class citizen because you're a mom, please say so, please give me a chance to defend myself, and to assure you that nothing in this world, not ONE thing, not even my beloved self, is more important than ANY child and their happiness. Especially the ones I see every day, the ones that are beloved by my beloved friends. And let me assure you that no decision is more serious, more vital, more respectable - more frightening and important - than the decision to attempt to raise a safe and happy child in this fucked up world. If you came to me before the baby was concieved, yes, I'd try to talk you in to adopting. But from the moment the decision is made, you have my respect, because you are a rare, rare thing: a braver, bolder, wiser, more self-confident, more optimistic, more certain, more hopeful, more secure, more financially stable, more mentally emotional, more everything person than I am. You'd better be. And I am willing to give you my support, my strength, and the benefit of my very great doubt - all I ask is that you do your very best - all the time, and that you don't treat me - or any of your other friends - like a non-woman. No insult is greater, I promise.

Check yourself. Be aware. Let your non-mom friends give you the benefit of their freedom. You are capable of giving them the benefit of sharing your wonderful, beautiful gift - and believe me, we do appreciate it, and we do admire your bravery and optimism. It's an important, delicate balance, and we both have a responsibilty in it. If you are reading this and have no doubt that I am not talking about you (and admittedly, the majority of my mom-friends are NOT guilty of this heinous crime) , then please, please, please pass this on to other mom-friends and websites and other places where moms talk. I really do believe that the women who do this are not aware, so hopefully this will make them CHECK THEMSELVES.

Believe it or not,
Much love,
-sam


*"The spoken exchange of thoughts, opinions, and feelings; talk."

**these things are OFTEN confused with "self-centered". Self-aware, self-confident people are not threatened or offended by other people's adventures and accomplishments.

***if it's NOT lack of awareness, then it's just plain mean, hateful, rudeness, and they can DEFINITELY go do nigh-impossible things to themselves and GOOD LUCK.

Here are a few more pics from me and Random (my new cam)... I've got a Halloweenie theme goin' on today. The little ghosties are made of meringue on a graham cracker round, and were part of the feast that we (the Persimmons crewe) put on for the big FENCE Halloween HooHa. Ally makes some awesome desserts, and she is teaching me some tricks! I got to make the phyllo pastry bats stuffed with ricotta, cream cheese and cherries, served with warm chocolate sauce! Mmmmm!
Here also are mine and Chris' pumpkins. He loves Zombies and I love D.! (Yes, that's a Gary Oldman-O'Lantern, folks! :)
Here's a picture of our not-so-little Abe, done up in his goth finery... that kid puts on eyeliner better than most girls his age - and he's STILL butch-as-all-heck! :D
Last but not least, here's a pic of my display in 'Your Arts Desire' - there are already some gaps that have to be filled 'cause I've sold some stuff already! YAY!
much love, and happy Samhain!
-s

What's Goin' On...

Howdy! Sorry about the EXTREMELY intermittent posting. We’ve been busy as usual, and I don’t have easy pc access these days. Sweet Ally is letting me use hers today while she bakes and Elsa plays - lucky me! Work is going well, we are getting busier at the restaurant every day, and driving the bread route in this gorgeous weather is quite nicey-nice. Have two pieces of big news - my dear friends (Brett & Buffy, Chris’ folks, Stewart and Chris) pitched in and bought me a lovely digicam for my birthday. A very nice Fuji Fine Pix, 5.2 mega pixels, with a 16 & 258 meg card, a case, battery charger and batteries... I love it. I named it "Random". I will try to get on over the next few days and show you all five of my first pics at a time. Sorry about accidentally posting the first five twice. I have no idea how that happened. *sigh*.
Also, the art co-op that I have just joined (I will be putting my jewelry in, for starters...) Is opening this weekend in Saluda - wish us luck!
Our other, really big news is that Chris and I are back on stage together. This time, we’re performing in the Tryon Little Theatre Workshop Christmas production called "Greetings". It’s not your usual Christmas play - in fact, one of the first discussions we has as a cast was whether or not anyone was offended by the controversial script, and whether we thought we would offend the public. It’s not a naughty play - although there were a few mild "swear-words", which our director thoughtfully and gently edited so as not to stir up the more conservative folk - it’s the message of the play, which truly challenges a lot of conventional thought on the meaning of religion and miracles and faith. It’s lovely and wonderful, and I am delighted to be a part of it. There are only six roles in the play, and Chris and I are playing, well, THREE of them... :D
You’ll have to come see it to find out what that means! It’s my first actual stage play. I am learning a LOT from our fantastic director and incredibly talented cast, and I am playing a role that is a big challenge for me. I am playing a Jewish atheist actress from New York, the "straight (wo)man, AND I have to kiss & be intimate with a strange man multiple times. Whoa! Whee! ;)
Here are the dates, times and details that I have so far.
The play will be performed at the Tryon Little Theatre workshop. The number for the Tryon Little Theatre (not the workshop) is 828.859.2466. I believe that is the box office number, but if that’s not right, they can give you the workshop number. Opening night is Thursday, Dec. 1st at 8pm, and we have performances on the 2nd and 3rd at 8pm, a matinee at 3pm on Sunday the 4th, then the following week on the 8th, 9th, and 10th at 8pm and the closing matinee is at 4pm on the 11th. The theatre is small, so please call in advance! We plan to sell out every night! ;) I would be SO happy to see familiar faces in the audience. Nothing (besides knocking everyone’s socks off with the show) would make me happier! It’s not a long play, and although it deals with some serious issues, it’s a comedy and I promise you will be entertained. If for no other reason, come to see Chris’ amazing performance. I don’t want to give away TOO much, but I can tell you that he is pulling off a feat that would challenge the most seasoned Hollywood vet. :D
I hope you are all finding your lives happily busy and fulfilling, I hope your projects are inspiring and satisfying, and that you are meeting the kind of challenges that you love at every turn.
Much love and inspiration,
-Sam

If you want to know details about this precious little girl, ask me in person. But in this case, I really do think that a picture is worth a thousand times a thousand words.

Time to Ride the Loa

The old oaks are drowning
bodies are floating,
the water is poisoned,
it's the blood in our veins.
Children lost and abandoned,
madness is spreading,
rivers of sickness,
streets flooded with pain.
Families severed,
lives washed to the ocean,
the loa is calling,
the gris gris is broken.
The saints have all left us,
Jeanne could not protect us,
grief falls down upon us
like more heavy black rain.
Our Fathers up on the Hill
stay safe and blindfolded,
their houses are whole,
their hands are still clean.
They cast empty promises,
they make helpful gestures,
they touch down on the "safe" streets
and suffer no stain.
They come empty-handed,
they wave, disconnected,
they're guarded from reality,
protected and sane.
These poor people have never
had anything to give them,
and now their sad lives mean even less.
If they live they're a burden,
if they die, it's a cleansing,
and the wheels of the Nation grind on.
So gather the gris gris
and call on the loa,
turn your palm to your neighbor
and your fist to the sky,
catch a black rooster,
blood-paint the Samedi,
build a fire in your heart
and be ready to fly.
Curse the House and the Father
so he knows that his children
are the mad and the dying,
the black and the white.
His family is weeping,
his house is demolished,
he will know desperation
he will scream, he will cry.
He will know thirst,
he will pray for salvation,
dream of arms reaching,
and wait in the night.
Always pray for the Light
and have hope for tomorrow,
but remember the darkness,
and the way the soul burns.
For the pain of being ridden
by the blackest of loas
is worth it to the strong
if the curse takes its hold
and awareness awakens
and the Father learns.

-sll

In Spite of Ourselves…

My birthday is this week – Saturday to be specific – and I will be turning the corner at 37^. Woo. I can hear my little nine-year-old self saying “What the hell happened to us?!” but the other me’s that represent all the other phases of my life are pretty much in consensus: “We’ll take some crow’s feet, a few ‘very-close’ veins’ and slowing down a little over being a kid again ANYday. We’re relatively safe, happy, and free, and nobody will ever get away with kicking our ass, starving, torturing or humiliating us again. And if we see or know that they’re doing that to any other kids, we’ll fix their little red wagon PERMANENTLY.” It’s funny how little it takes to please your inner child…

There’s another anniversary this week as well. Two years ago, on the night before my birthday, Chris took me to Asheville to see a comedy show. It was a nice night. I wore a pretty dress, hoping he’d flirt a little, and wrote a pretty good poem in the intermission. That night, I would have never even hoped, much less guessed that Chris and I would have a shot at “happily ever after”, or even be a part of the comedy troupe that we enjoyed so much that night. (Oh, how fate loves to skwudge the Play-Do that is the human psyche!) We didn’t start dating until early October because, as Chris told me recently, he thought I was involved with the friend with whom I went kayaking on my birthday that year (what a great day that was, too. Hi Rob!). I’ve always thought of that as our ‘first date’ though, because it was certainly the first date I’d had in a loooonnng time, it was a very “date-like” evening, and it really was the beginning of our mooshiness. It was the early morning of October 5 when we had our first kiss, and later that next evening (still on the 5^th), when he showed up at my house (with a good movie and dinner plans, as he’d done at least a half dozen times before - but never after A Kiss…) and just quietly, sweetly, and I believe permanently merged into my life. We never talked about dating, we never had any wishy-washiness, doubts or discussions, he just fell into step with the rhythm of my life, *bink*, just like that – like magic. Like you always hear it’s supposed to happen.

Two years later, and I can’t believe that I could be so lucky. I wonder if maybe I’ve finally paid off enough of my (apparently ENORMOUS) karmic debt to have earned this kind of relationship. Chris tells me ever day – many times a day – how much he cares for and appreciates me, and even better, he shows me how much. It feels forever, and despite the fact that I felt sure that it could never happen to me, and that even if it did I would never be whole enough to handle it, it feels good.

The whole “love” thing has always seemed like a mystery to me. People use it so easily and put so much store in it, but the word itself has no clear definition or meaning. It has, at the very least, six billion shades of meaning, and in many cases, no meaning at all. But words like admiration, respect, desire, loyalty, faith, selflessness, protection and faith have very clear meanings and definitions to most of us. Those are the things that I feel for Chris, and that he obviously feels for me. When we say love – those are the things that we mean. We talk about the things that concern or trouble us, we apologize to each other when we forget and become human for a little while, we long for one another’s company, we live together as peacefully as any good family I’ve ever known. Weirdest and wonderfulest of all is the fact that we both knew from the very early days that we were going to be together as long as the universe would allow us to be.

We’re both a little crazy (ok, Chris is a little crazy and I have gone through one side of loony and out the other, but whatever… ;), we’re both terribly human, and we bicker a good bit. There are still a lot of places where our gears don’t mesh, and there are things that we have to work really hard at, but we both look forward to working at it every day.

We agree on all of the most important things. We’ve talked about the whole… marriage thing (*shudder*), basically because it matters to Chris’ mom, and because we may need to do it for some practical purpose one day. We’d both rather not, but it doesn’t scare either of us to think about it. We are both very strongly against having children, even though we both love them and enjoy their company, and we’re against it for the same reasons, despite our very different upbringing. We both agree that “six billion miracles are ENOUGH”. We know that there are far, far, far, far, far too many needy children already here, abandoned, suffering, starving to be so selfish as to have our own, to draw even more resources from this desperate world. And we know that neither of us is truly capable of raising children – even adopted ones – the way they need to be raised. We’re good people, we work hard, we live decently, we’re loving, and we work hard at healing our mental and emotional scars every day – but we have the good sense to know that we will probably never be whole enough to raise children the way we should. We are both capable of recognizing the fact that we would – despite our capacity for love and care – raise broken children, and we could never forgive ourselves for that. I only wish that the majority of the population could be so honest and aware. We also share the same basic opinions on religion, politics and money – but we can debate movies, music, art, and the intricacies of philosophy for … well, hopefully til’ death does us part. We care deeply about each others’ passions, we understand and respect each other’s boundaries, and we care deeply about, and are dedicated to healing one another’s pain. Chris and I both know that his job is a lot harder than mine. He’s ok with that, and that makes me want to work extra-hard to lighten his load.

I like my orc-boys, but in my honest places, like my journals, my comics and my dreams, my perfect guy has always been like Chris. He is beautiful, tall and slim with a gorgeous face and curly floppy brown hair; he’s totally dorky, driven by his art, funny, smart, sensitive, capable; he loves robots and sci-fi and 80’s music; he is sweetly goofy and hates sports; he dresses cool, he dances like a complete spaz, but he dances; he’s not picky about food, he likes adventure and doesn’t care to be tied down by STUFF… and he is so veryvery good to me… probably better than I really deserve, but hey, I’m not going to argue, and I’m damned sure going to keep trying to be worthy.

Having another birthday this close to 40 is a bit queasifying (and yes, he and I – and thank god, his wonderful family – are all ok with that bit of it too…) but knowing that this is also when I can celebrate the beginning of my good fortune in the family department (FINALLY!) eases not only the fear of the future but a lot of the pain of the past.

Yay, me!

Much love,
-s

****************************
She don't like her eggs all runny
She thinks crossin' her legs is funny
She looks down her nose at money
She gets it on like the Easter Bunny
She's my baby I'm her honey
I'm never gonna let her go

He ain't got laid in a month of Sundays
I caught him once and he was sniffin' my undies
He ain't too sharp but he gets things done
Drinks his beer like it's oxygen
He's my baby
And I'm his honey
Never gonna let him go

In spite of ourselves
We'll end up a'sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.

She thinks all my jokes are corny
Convict movies make her horny
She likes ketchup on her scrambled eggs
Swears like a sailor when shaves her legs
She takes a lickin'
And keeps on tickin'
I'm never gonna let her go.

He's got more balls than a big brass monkey
He's a whacked out weirdo and a lovebug junkie
Sly as a fox and crazy as a loon
Payday comes and he's howlin' at the moon
He's my baby I don't mean maybe
Never gonna let him go

In spite of ourselves
We'll end up a sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.

In spite of ourselves

***
In Spite of Ourselves
©John Prine
(sung with Iris DeMent)

Happy Birthday, Dear Maaaannnnnndy, Happy Birthday toooooo youuu!
(I wrote most of this while doing my delivery route yesterday)
Much love,
-s
***

Grandmothers’ Curse

For all of my life I have been drawn

from serious mundane purpose

by my senses:

those five sacred sisters,

beggars, thieves, covetous harlots,

no concept of ‘grey’ or ‘middle’ between them;

their mysterious mother, the sixth,

the most powerful distraction, that of intuition.

(I find that the observation and care of humans

is the most elaborate drug of all)

These internal interpreters have served me the world

on a mirrored, musical clockwork platter,

flower laden, and brimming with choices of every shade.

I have always been mesmerized by the mood

and meaning of shadows cast by flying birds.

Reeling, drunk on any sound,

cars or crickets or the odd silence of still air,

I meander, dizzy and giddy and often ill --

the sickly sweetness of vanity and death

is never faint.

No man, no moment, no word or promise

could ever steal my soul away in little gasps

like candy stores or windup toys or river rocks

or lightning.

I am unable to attach myself

to anything more valuable

than the minute splinters of heartbreak that come

when sunlight fades from colored glass

or the promise of the moons’ return, for truly,

what could ever be more dear?

Only to be so broken

and so blessed.

-sll 08/08/05

-for AKL

When Life Gives You Lemons...

...Make a movie about it!
I am inestimably pleased to let everyone (who doesn't already know - who didn't hear me "Wheeeing" all the way from the APB last night!) know that I am now a member of an AWARD-WINNING film crew!!! :D
(I offer a small apology because this is also the reason that I haven't posted in 3 weeks, though I am sure that all of you, realizing the scope of this project and how it fits into my life, can forgive me. :)
Chris and I started this off "officially" on July 4th. We'd already been signed into the competition and Chris had decided on his core crew, but that was all up to that point. The holiday fell on a Monday, which meant I had to run the delivery (it was ok, traffic was light and it was a nice, pleasant day), so Chris went with me so we could spend the traffic time planning, and he could make calls and plot the next set of logistics while I was in the stores. We had decided to do a bake sale to raise a budget, so we set dates and made a list of all the people we'd ask for goodies and their numbers. We decided where we'd like to have the sales, and Chris made notes on who to call for that. We made a list of probable crew and possible cast so that we'd know how much food we'd need to feed them all, then made a list of the snacks and meals we'd be serving, who might donate what, and what we'd have to buy and cook ourselves. We knew from that what our projected budget goal needed to be, and so we had a good idea of what we'd really need by the end of the day. It was a good day, being together, making plans, getting important things done, and it had the lovely side effect of bringing "S&X" even closer together.
When Chris and I had been together about a year, we had one of those "couple clashes" over the whole issue of making lists. I live by lists - I have to. I have a ridiculously busy life, I take on way more than I ought to always (but in the cause of my sanity, so "eh". I'm not complaining.), so lists are the only thing that keep me from unwinding like -
- well, like three normally well-behaved, composed, level-headed little girls trying to learn to play Yahtzee after a whole summer of sibling rivalry and generally just being together 24/7. *sigh* Sorry, post was temporarily interrupted by a crying 8-year old who was clashing with sister and friend over the explanation & understanding of the rules. *sigh* I have extremely rare little midriff-high tear stains on my t-shirt, but all is now well. I hear the cup rattling away downstairs - and the 8 year old just screamed "YAHTZEE!" followed closely by "FIVE! FULL HOUSE! WOO!" It sounds like Sesame Street Casino down there. (*sigh* again, but happy this time.) :D
- anyhoo - Chris was having a hard time keeping all of his ducks in a row. He, like me (thank goddess) has a lot of ducks, and in his biz, a lot of other people are depending on him to keep things together. I tried to stress the importance of making lists and he got miffed and said that he didn't like his life 'being controlled by a list'. *sigh* I said that he may not like it, but he really didn't have much choice, because if he forgot something that was important to me just because he has authority issues (unlike me... HAHAHAHAHA!!!) then he'd be wishing he'd made a list, etc., and I'm sure that the other people depending on him - people with way more to lose than me - would feel the same way. I have learned to understand that Chris has SERIOUS control issues - not in the 'classic' sense, of needing to control people, but of desperately hating to be controlled, but I explained to him that making lists was simply a way of managing ones' own control. I said "Chris, ya' gotta' learn to love the list." He didn't say much about it after that, but I noticed that he started making lists and feeling better about how much he was getting done. This weekend (yes, I'm FINALLY getting to my point ;) was the sweet clincher though. In the midst of the tightly controlled madness, Chris looked pointedly at me and announced to the group - who were bragging about the overall efficiency of our team - that he had "learned to love the list". :) *Moo.*

The next three weeks were a blur of phone calls, planning and plain old hard work. Chris said that all of it was a pleasure for him though - even the late-night, long hours of bake sale prep and hours in the hot sun selling the stuff. We are incredibly lucky to have so many people willing to pitch in their own hard work to help make this happen. We had friends, moms, neighbors and businesses contributing goodies (Thank you, thank you! Bless you, bless you!). I'm not much of a baker, but even I made about 100 "Luna Biscuits" - all natural peanut butter/oatmeal/garlic (with eggs and bone meal and brewers' yeast, etc.) in the shapes of Bad Kitties, bones and Mailmen (the "Butch" mix) and moons, trees and hearts (the "Fifi" mix :); 1oo or so classic peanut butter cookies; and about 150 sugar cookies that I spent an afternoon decorating with two of the kids I keep. Whee! Icing, sugar and sprinkle-fest, yeah! Then we had a couple of nights of bagging and wrapping baked goods, decorating flats to hold the stuff, making signs and price tags, packing things to be easily and carefully moved, setting up coolers for the meltables, getting tables and chairs and umbrellas, arranging pickups and drop-offs, and organizing it so that we had enough for all three days of the sale. I'd sent a press release to all of our local papers, but Stewart went the extra mile and gave us a fat ad, plus printed us out a bunch of pretty flyers (not to mention making a HUGE tub of Chex Mix and coming down on Friday to pick up 25$ worth of goodies for all of the staff at the 'Leader. THANKS GUYS!!! Jody - those Snickerdoodles were the bomb, but I bought all the Rice Krispy treats! Mmm!) that Chris and Clint humped around for days. We also got volunteers to help us sell and to cover for us on Saturday so we could attend the EXTREMELY helpful 48-Hour Film Project Digital Cinema Boot Camp that MAP hosted at UNCA. (Our screenwriting teacher lived next door to Ray Bradbury -!!!- and taught (or, as he said "tried to teach") George Lucas -!!!-) We sold all day Friday and Sunday in front of the Coffee Shop in Tryon, and Chris' mom and long-time best friend Erin shook 'em down all day in Saluda on Saturday in front of Wards' Grill and the Wildflour Bakery.
Chris also took care of lining up equipment, securing HQ (thank you AGAIN, Jen! xoxox), making sure that all paperwork was in line, keeping the crew appraised of everything vital, prodding our "first AD" into actually securing the !@#$ locations (this guy turned out to be a real !@#$, which didn't surprise me, but really let Chris down. We only had two problems during the project - which is a kind of miracle in itself - and they were both people problems. Live and learn, right?), making millions of phone calls, paying the 100$ entry fee, and generally making sure that we were technically ready. I was in charge of shopping for all the groceries, cooking the things that weren't donated (tea, iced coffee, and our big mexican dinner for the whole cast and crew sat. night), making sure we had vegetarian options for all meals, making sure we had enough water and other cold drinks, lining up the donated goods (Wildflour bread; Persimmons' Bistro & TeaRooms' chicken salads, coldcuts tray and delicious brownies and cookies; Chris' dads - David - famous ham-biscuits; Chris' moms' - Peggy -muffins, my favorite broccoli salad, and momcentric bag of dark and milk Hershy Kisses - thank you all so much!!!) and making sure that we had a good first aid kit, sunscreen, bugspray, etc. - and all that BEFORE the extreme intensity that was the 48-Hour Film Project itself!

Friday was a blur, but we made good time. Traffic on 26 was terrible, and we JUST made it to Jen's in time to get the coolers and food boxes out of Esme's bed and pile into Jen's car and zip over to the APB. The place was packed and everyone was incredibly happy and stoked. When the time came for Chris to draw our genre, I realized that I'd cursed us by saying (repeatedly, for WEEKS) "God, I hope we don't get Musical/Western!" 'cause we darned sure did! Thank GODDESS there was a Wild Card option (for the first time in the Festivals' history! Whew!), and after hearing our prop (Popcorn), our character (E. Hayes, Conflict Mediator) and our line of dialogue ("I'm on medication.") the team talked it out and decided to take a chance on the wild card - and we got DARK COMEDY!!! :D :D :D
We left buzzing, and by the time we got to HQ, Chris had decided that he wanted to use homeless people as our central theme. The writing team (Chris, Debra, Jay and I) starting hashing out ideas, and within a few hours had come up with a script that we could love. Thus "Making Lemonade" was born. (I am happy to say that I am responsible for the worst joke in the movie, thankyouverymuch! ;) While we were cleaning up the script, Chris started making calls, directing crew, deciding on locations and trying to find out how many actors we ACTUALLY had (!@#$%^&@#!!!). Then he had to set about the task of making a shot list and planning out the day of shooting around locales and light while Jen and I prepped stuff for breakfast and moving out the crew so that the next morning wouldn't have to be any more hectic than necessary. We were all in bed by midnight, but we were so wired that none of us got more than an hour or so of sleep. We rested though, and used the time to plan ahead, and so when 5:30 rolled around, we hit the ground running. Chris went and met people so they could find Jen's place easily, and we fed them as they came in. Then we loaded up and headed to our first location.
Liz went ahead and started building our homeless camp, and everyone else was close behind, doing their various jobs. The musicians came down to the set at that point to talk to Chris and get an idea of where to head with their writing (they - Jesse and Patrick - *mwah*! were in contact with him throughout the shoot and worked on the soundtrack for 12 hours straight). We had it set up and looking good just as Chris had his crew and actors ready to roll. We were there for about 3 hours when the camera battery ran out, with just a couple of minor shots to go, so we dismantled the camp and took everyone back to the house to begin the lunch/cool-off/and nap wave while the batteries were charging. Chris and his crew got more batteries (thanks Mikey!) and set out to pick up those shots and go onto the next scene, which only needed his core crew and one of the two main actors. We spent that time refreshing our crew and cast and Jen organized the re-sorting of the props, costumes and equipment for the next phase. Around 2:30, everyone had re-grouped and we headed on to our next location at the Mediterranean diner downtown. Pete and Paula (Mr. and Mrs. Apostopolous) were gracious hosts and the filming there - with one or two minor and ridiculous exceptions - went great. In less than 3 hours, we moved on to our next few locations, which were luckily right outside on College St. We were able to finish the rest of the film - except for one shot that we didn't know we needed yet - without moving more than a block down the street. This is where I got to do most of my acting too. Yay! We wrapped just as the light was starting to fade, giving us a beautiful golden bounce into our final scene. Hallelujah!
We got everyone back to the house, and thanks to careful planning, we had dinner on the table within 10 minutes of the cast and crews' arrival. After dinner, we had one horrible moment where we realized that we were missing something VITAL to qualifying for the competition. They had forgotten to get release forms from the folks at the med, Pete and Paula's acting releases and the location release for the Med. It's closed on Sunday, and no one knew Pete and Paula's last name. Someone (!@#$%^&*!!) suggested that we just forge the releases, but I pointed out that it was a 25 year old business in the heart of downtown and someone would surely KNOW Pete and Paula. Besides, faking a Greek name is just not as easy as your average Anglican moniker. I thought for a minute and remembered a moment of dialogue between Jane, the Med's waitress and Liz about a prop that we needed. She told her to go to a specific restaurant, ask for a specific person, and say "Jane sent you." I called that restaurant, asked for that person, explained the situation, and within an hour the Apostopolous' had called and agreed to meet us at ten a.m. the next morning, just as Chris was leaving to go find a valuable piece of equipment that got left at the last location - which just HAPPENED to be there, right on a main street, when they got there. All this was happening while our AMAZING editing crew (Chris and Mike! Yo, yo! ;) was capturing all the footage into the computer to start the non-stop, 17-hour editing process. After we took care of all the million major and minor details, Chris and I finally got to lie down at about 11. He was hoping to grab a few hours of sleep before he had to go and join the editors for the final push. We lay there talking, and that's when he realized that there was still a big plot hole in the story (Jen said she heard his muffled "!@#$!" all the way in the living room.) I had thought to find out earlier who would be available for any emergency "pick-ups" the next morning, just in case. Chris was extra frustrated because it seemed that we were going to have to write another whole scene, call in several actors and crew members. I said "Let me think a minute..." and soon I'd come up with a way to fill the hole and only use myself and Blaque (one of the other two main actors), and Chris and Mike for camera and well, mike - huhhuh... and only three lines of dialogue for a total of about only 10 more seconds of footage, PLUS I managed to sew up one more minor plot hole AND it could be filmed right outside the Med after we met with the Apostopolous'. Chris treated us to coffee and danish (out of the last 17$ of our bakesale $ :) and then he left with Mike to go finish the edit, and I headed off to Jen's to pack up. Burt had the new Harry Potter on tape, so I picked up where I'd left off reading (luckily it was the beginning of tape 8 - it was a lucky weekend over all! :) and listened while I sorted and packed all the costumes and props, packed all of Chris' equipment, divided up and packed the leftovers and cleaned up our giant mess. I was just getting into the shower when Chris called and said he was at the APB, and that they'd turned in the film with an hour to spare - and at 6 minutes and 55 seconds, 5 seconds short of the time limit! Woo! APB donated a free pizza and pitcher of soda to each finishing team, so he said to come on down and celebrate.
I got to sit there, watching the other teams rush in, saturated in the luxurious, wired, exhausted glow of Job Well Done. I felt bad for (all but one of) the teams who didn't make it in on time, and pleased at Chris' accolades. We got to spend some time with a young producer from LA who was as anti-LA seeming as they come, and just generally pat ourselves on the back and breathe. Then we went back to Jen's and screened the film for the die-hards who were still around, plus D. & Kaysha, as D. was just moving into Jen's when we drove up. Of course Chris and Clint were hard on themselves (I suggested that they needed to watch it with this in mind: "Look what we did in just 48 hours." and they gave themselves a little break), but everyone else was totally impressed and laughed their butts off. YAY! There was a little bit of EXTREMELY un-gentlemany/unsportsmanly behavior from one former member of the crew after the screening, which left Chris angrier and more hurt than I have ever seen him, but I am happy to say that that had faded by yesterday, along with the other relatively small chunks of cast/crew nastiness, leaving only the high of... A Job Well Done, which was driven home by the conclusion of the award ceremony last night (which poor Chris did not get to attend, because he was covering for the co-worker who covered for him while he was making the movie... moo!). I dressed up nicely, and went early, just to hobnob and hear the buzz on Chris' behalf. Sweet Katie from MAP got me into the sold-out first screening, so I got to hear everyone's laughter and comments - and see all those other incredible Jobs Well Done twice. After the screening I met Emerald (our lovely leading lady) and Clint in the lobby, and we went to the awards ceremony together. There were only 11 awards, for the 25 movies, and two movies in particular (one of which was the CLEAR best film winner - wow!) took several each. I knew we wouldn't get special effects, and the team who did totally deserved it, and after hearing the majority of the other awards going to two teams, I didn't expect to win anything - especially after 10 awards had been handed out - and I was prepared for that, and totally ok with it. The real award was the experience itself, the incredible satisfaction of (all but two of) our team (psh.) - and seeing Chris so happy in his element, and doing such a spectacular job. Hearing everyone laugh, and all the congratulations and compliments of the other teams was as good as any judges' decision... and then they got to "Best Use of Line" - the only other writing award (besides Best Script) and called out "This Is Our Team Name: MAKING LEMONADE!" :D :D :D
I looked around to see who was getting up - and then I realized that it was supposed to be ME and nearly fell out my seat! Emerald had to push me a little to snap me out of my daze, and I probably lit up the theatre with my grin while I was walking to accept the award. As soon as the awards were over, I called Chris to tell him the happyhappy news and stuck around a little longer to hobnob with our new "contacts, congratulate the other winners, compliment my favorites and soak up the accolades. We all mingled while we waited for the 10 o'clock showing. I so enjoyed watching Emerald take all her compliments so gracefully, and Clint's handsome grin as he accepted his congrats from the other cinematographers, but the best thing of all, for the whole night was during the second screening - which was mostly winning teams - hearing those folks laugh and appreciate the nuances of our little movie - hearing those other directors and hardcore techies - especially the ones from the Best Picture (and several other awards) team - cheer so hard for Chris. That was the ultimate payoff for me, knowing that he is supported and respected by those who really matter in the local fim industry. The hardworking, the devoted, the creative, the ones who are living and loving this crazy dream. This is the foreshadowing of his future, and it's a good one.Blessed be!

We'll be screening the film around for anyone who wants to see it - tonight is at Brett and Buffy's. The DVD of all of the films will be available through MAP mid-next-week, so we can see the other groups' films too - and anyone can order that via APB, MAP and Orbit (the local cool video store.) If anyone wants a copy of "Making Lemonade", we can do a free VHS copy, or we'll charge you the price of a DVD to make you a DVD copy.

Oh - and speaking of "Making Lemonade" - there was a really sweet post-script to the story. On Sunday night, we were too exhausted to drive back to Tryon so late, so we decided to spend the night at Jen's and just drive straight to the bakery to run the route. Chris agreed to ride along to help keep me awake (we didn't get much sleep Sunday night either, just due to exhaustion and environment) and I said that he could nap while I was at stops. We had spent the last of our bake sale budget the day before, and that was just fine - until we got to my last Greenville stop and saw a tiny little guy - only 7 or so - with his lemonade stand** set up outside a store near the EarthFare. I told Chris I'd look through my backpack for change, and when I did I found my checkbook that I thought I'd left at Jens' - with the last two dollars from our budget, the change from the last ice run - stuck in with my drivers' license! We bought two cups of lemonade and 4 cookies from Jacob the Young Entrepreneur for 1$, and tipped him the other $ just for moxy, fellow-feeling and sitting in that blazing heat. We told him and his mom about our movie and asked if we could take his picture, and I took a Polaroid of him selling Chris some fine lemonade, and Chris and I left with the feeling that we had really achieved something, something more than just making a movie in 48 hours, and that Someone really had been looking out for us the whole time.

Follow your hearts, people. They lead you into the most amazing places.
Much love,
-Sam

p.s. we're missing the music and editing crew from the group photo, but we are going to treat them to a nice dinner and we'll get a shot of them to post then!


*Wetrats and X - and anyone who has ever tried to explain ANY rules/instructions to me more complicated than "Roll the dice and move that number of times" or "Draw one, play one" - know that I was EXACTLY the right person to deal with this conflict. The !@#$ "Hokey Pokey" makes me a little nervous...

**You can't get the full irony of this until you've seen our movie...