I'm in Love

Recently I was interviewed about "Milestone". Most writers usually talk about how they, 'have to write' or how 'writing is like a calling for them' and that's all lovely and grand and to be respected. However, for me, I realized that I began writing as a way to get to something else.

The reporter asked why/how I began writing and that brought me to my one-woman show, "Belly" and the screenplay "Waltzing Emily". I wish I could say that both were written because I was moved to tell the characters' story but really, my main agenda was to try to write a compelling story that I could act in.

Then I was asked how I got involved with On the Leesh Productions and that brought me to "Table for Three" which I had written because I wanted to learn more about film and, after meeting Alicia (the head of On the Leesh), I decided that writing a short would be a great way to learn more. She agreed and promised that she'd read it. To my delight - not only did she end up reading it, but she also produced and directed it as well. That allowed us the chance to see if we could work well together and... cut to six years later and we're still working together.

All my ulterior-writing-motives made me wonder if I was using writing like some odd rebound relationship: well... since I'm not getting enough outside acting work - I'll write my own! or I'd like the experience of working on a feature film and so... I'll write a short to get a taste of it! I was a too-bit user I guess! Don't get me wrong, I was always totally in agreement with other writers when they talked (or wrote) about how much they loved telling stories and building plot lines and everything, but I also seemed to use it as my avenue for other things.

Until recently...

It has occurred to me that I have recently turned into a 'have to write-r'. Yep! That's me. I'll admit it. I'm Julie and I have to write. I'm no longer rebounding and have made writing my no-excuses-for-the-relationship partner. I have canceled plans to write. I have looked forward to sitting down to write. I have even texted writing notes to myself in case I didn't get to my computer fast enough (though I should say here that I have often forgotten said texts until months later when I was cleaning out my phone).

What in the world does this have to do with Best Laid Plans, you ask? Well.. I guess it goes along with the whole idea of not truly being able to plan out your life path. I don't think I ever would have imagined fantasizing about a house in some remote place where I could write full time, and yet, that fantasy has crossed my mind's eye often. Best Laid Plans began because of my heartbreak about the ending of a relationship and a life I was sure was laying out before me... and yet, I think it was as a result of this heartbreak that I discovered my love for this art form.

Go figure. I guess my dad is right - you never know what's around the corner. That's bad AND good.

Best Laid Plans Where You Live

So... I realize that I haven’t written in awhile. I wish I could say that I’ve had a good excuse, but alas, I have nothing to offer you other than being in the midst of some things that made it difficult to take a step back and assess. In short, I’ve been avoiding you. That’s right people... I have been avoiding a blog! But hear we are – almost a year since I left for Ghana.

But I have news... First – check out the cool logo for the film that Melissa Jernigan at OTL created for me! I think she did a great job and am grateful to her for her patience in my not knowing what sort of graphic best summarized the project. Big thanks to her!

Second, while I, again, cannot really get into some of the details of what’s occurred in my situation I will say this. It is a SMALL world out there in a very big way. People talk about how huge NYC is, but truly, NY’ers (at least my friends have agreed with this), often stick to their small neighborhood most of the time. You create your own little safe haven in the midst of the city’s noisy chaos. Certainly for me, I’ve had to work at creating a whole new existence in my own neighborhood. Since it’s the same place that I moved into as a married person, all of my beginning memories of living there were associated with that identity. And then breakups happen and you find out how amazing it is that the simplest things trigger monumental emotional recollections – such as walking your dog, or going to certain restaurants. In the beginning of this process, your neighborhood is like a dysfunctional home that feels both safe and like its inundated with land mines. But then, the more things you do on your own, the more territory you take back and fill with new happenings, the more the “safety” scale tips in your direction. It’s your home again.

Neighborhood, by definition (I even looked this up), means “an area surrounding a particular place, person or object”.

Perhaps that’s why then, while chillaxing around my neighborhood with my dog, I was pretty jarred by seeing my past hanging out with his future only blocks from where we lived. Life winked at me in the form of a very jarring reminder that people don’t operate under the same rules. Perhaps nobody is right or wrong, but you learn quickly that the feeling of safety that you’ve built is shaky. If you assume that people have the same life rules that you do, and you create your world with that assumption in mind, you can, like me, be pummeled by the fact that that is wrong, wrong, wrong! So here I am again, learning something new. I’m growing people! If only the emotional growth could expand to my actual physical growth I’d be smiling from ear to ear! Looking back, there’s been so much disappointment this year – so many surprises that I wasn’t at all prepared for or deserved. There were things that I was so sure of a year ago but now realize I was completely wrong. But I’m not in charge of any of those things. Sometimes I can’t help but let the disappointment wash over me and follow me around, but other times, I’ve realized that what I can also do is simply focus on the things I am in control of and surround myself with people who operate under similar life rules as my own. And maybe that’s not a best laid plan, but it’s the best I’ve got right now.

Best Laid Vacations

What do you do when you are given terrible news? Not, tragic news, as in someone dying unexpectedly (or dying at all for that matter), but news that is so upsetting you start hysterically laughing? Or news that you should’ve heard ages ago, but you find out that you’re one of the last to know? Recently, I discovered the answer to these questions and found that for me, I needed to go away. Far away. Life is always cause and effect, right? You’re always acting on something and suffering or celebrating in the consequences. And when they are your decisions; when they are your actions, you can (and should) own it – good or bad. You can say, ‘well, this was my choice and so, I own the outcome.’ However, when something happens outside of your purview but grossly affects your world and your view of it, it’s jarring to say the least.

I needed to go away. I needed to be with someone that I knew cared about me and felt some semblance of loyalty to me. I also needed some time to be by myself. That said, I don’t want to give the impression that my friends here are disloyal because that would be a huge misrepresentation. Although, it’s true that, along the way this year, I have lost many number of people through my change in circumstances, I have also discovered that I have some incredible, devoted (and hilarious) people surrounding me. For that, I am more than grateful. But, they are here and I needed to go away.

I have a friend in Ireland. I met him many years ago in an acting program and we’ve stayed in touch ever since. He’s lent me his ear this year as I blathered on about everything and so I thought, who better to see and where better to go than to Ireland to visit Brendan? A successful actor in Ireland, I was lucky in that he had a week off to take me around to his favorite spots and introduce me to some of the people in his life. I got to rediscover an old friend that I hadn’t seen in ages while I took in some sites I’d never seen before. The freshness of it was grand. Amazingly, I (who normally can’t function on less than 8 hours of sleep) barely suffered from jet lag. I think my body was just longing for the change. So, am I still trying to tackle making sense of news that I didn’t see coming? Yes. But somehow, sitting at your friend’s kitchen table as he makes you a fabulous breakfast and tries out his American accent on you is a treasure. Somehow it makes your own small world make a tiny bit more sense.

And you discover that seven days fly faster than a light sneeze.

What do you do when you are given terrible news? Not, tragic news, as in someone dying unexpectedly (or dying at all for that matter), but news that is so upsetting you start hysterically laughing? Or news that you should’ve heard ages ago, but you find out that you’re one of the last to know? Recently, I discovered the answer to these questions and found that for me, I needed to go away. Far away. Life is always cause and effect, right? You’re always acting on something and suffering or celebrating in the consequences. And when they are your decisions; when they are your actions, you can (and should) own it – good or bad. You can say, ‘well, this was my choice and so, I own the outcome.’ However, when something happens outside of your purview but grossly affects your world and your view of it, it’s jarring to say the least.

I needed to go away. I needed to be with someone that I knew cared about me and felt some semblance of loyalty to me. I also needed some time to be by myself. That said, I don’t want to give the impression that my friends here are disloyal because that would be a huge misrepresentation. Although, it’s true that, along the way this year, I have lost many number of people through my change in circumstances, I have also discovered that I have some incredible, devoted (and hilarious) people surrounding me. For that, I am more than grateful. But, they are here and I needed to go away.

I have a friend in Ireland. I met him many years ago in an acting program and we’ve stayed in touch ever since. He’s lent me his ear this year as I blathered on about everything and so I thought, who better to see and where better to go than to Ireland to visit Brendan? A successful actor in Ireland, I was lucky in that he had a week off to take me around to his favorite spots and introduce me to some of the people in his life. I got to rediscover an old friend that I hadn’t seen in ages while I took in some sites I’d never seen before. The freshness of it was grand. Amazingly, I (who normally can’t function on less than 8 hours of sleep) barely suffered from jet lag. I think my body was just longing for the change. So, am I still trying to tackle making sense of news that I didn’t see coming? Yes. But somehow, sitting at your friend’s kitchen table as he makes you a fabulous breakfast and tries out his American accent on you is a treasure. Somehow it makes your own small world make a tiny bit more sense.

And you discover that seven days fly faster than a light sneeze.

Best Laid Plans: Milestone Part 3

Every writer says to write what they know. So this past year or so, that’s what I’ve been trying to do. Writing about what I know has certainly brought on Best Laid Plans, for example. It’s brought on my first effort at a novel and it also brought on Milestone. While the circumstances surrounding the plot in Milestone are certainly not autobiographical, the emotional place the story lives in is. So then, the question becomes, how do I direct a story that comes from such a familiar emotional place? Truth is, I had no idea.

In watching Becky's and Brian's audition, I realized that it was so helpful to see great actors interpret the script in their own personal way. They brought certain moments and ideas to their performance that struck me as both interesting and different. So while I was entering territory I’d never really been in before with regard to directing a film, the one thing I did know was that I wanted to hear from the actors. I wanted their ideas and thoughts about who they were playing. This could not only broaden the story in that three heads are better than one, but it could also move me further away personally from the story – which I thought was vital. Nobody wants a director that is too tied in emotionally to a story that they can’t see the forest for the trees, so talking to them – getting their point of view was amazingly helpful.

Rehearsals were a blast. Brian and Becky were so much fun to work with and I got lucky in that they were open to any and all ideas. Whenever you’re trying something new – and even sometimes when you’re doing something you’ve done a thousand times before, you’re always waiting for someone to call you out as a fraud. You’re always anticipating that someone will tell you that you don’t know what you’re doing. Thankfully, both Becky and Brian never looked at me sideways, never called me out as a first-time writer/director and always added on to my proposals. I realized I loved directing and the push and pull of knowing when to throw your two cents in and when to let the actors run with it.

I know that some film directors do very little rehearsal, but for me it was essential. Playing a new role on set meant that I wouldn't have the space in my wee brain to really give the actors my full attention once shooting began. I didn't want to be in the position of debating moments on set while the rest of the crew was waiting around. I knew that ideas would still be percolating but I wanted to make sure the actors had a solid foundation to work from (and me too for that matter). Although I can't speak for them, I think the actors were pretty keen on the rehearsal process as well - or - being good actors, they surely hid it very well! By the time the production dates approached, I felt pretty damn good about the performances and could make room in the 'ol noggin for everything else I needed to be thinking about... like say... the shot list.

Yikes.

Best Laid Plans: Milestone Part 2

Of the two characters in the movie, I assumed that finding Billy would be more difficult than finding Denise. I know a number of great actresses in the city and knew that any number of them could take a bite out of the role. However, with great actresses giving their all to a role, you quickly realize that what it comes down to are small details. How did Alicia and I see Denise? What kind of vibe did she have? Should she come off as a professional? As a giddy woman doing something she’s never down before? As a ball of nerves? Tightly wound? All of these things? In terms of physical appearance, I saw a huge range of people – all different sizes, shapes and look. Alicia and I had agreed that Denise, above all, needed to look like an every-woman. She needed to be someone that we could all recognize. So again, we were back to just needing a great actress.

Decisions, decisions...

When Becky White read for the role, she was in San Francisco doing a play. I always feel it’s a disadvantage to see someone on tape when you’re seeing everyone else in person, but regardless, I had asked her to read for Denise and she had expressed interest in the role. Part of what I had appreciated about Becky’s audition was the amount of work she had clearly put into it beforehand. There is nothing more satisfying as a writer/director than seeing that a person has put a lot of energy into their audition. It gives the sense that the project will matter just as much to the actor as it does to you. And Becky definitely gave us that sense. Beyond that, casting Becky was a lesson for me in terms of learning about the nuances in the casting process. When you see a number of great actresses, it may just simply come down to a person’s energy or some small detail that they brought to their audition that catches your eye. It wasn’t that anyone else was bad or wrong, quite the opposite actually, it was just this indescribable nuance that we saw in her.

So the casting process was finished. I had my Billy and now I had my Denise.

On to rehearsals.

On Our Way!

With the recommended dosage of Immodium in my belly, Joe and I got in a cab and journeyed on to our Globe Aware meeting point. In the cab, I was amazed by all of the people on the street selling goods – everything from hairbrushes to snacks. When the cab stopped at a red light, the car was quickly surrounded by people selling their goods/products. Beautifully balancing their items on their head, they’d try to sell their goods to anyone willing. Although it took some time to get used to being surrounded by people whenever the car came to a halt, neither Joe or I felt accosted or anything like that. In some ways, one can see how practical this commerce system is. I think of it as their version of the drive-thru. I wonder though, if the practicality goes both ways. For the driver, it is a very convenient system, but is that true for the seller, stuck outside in the rain and trying to get interest in their sliced fruit? I don’t know.

Our cab driver took us to the Pink Hostel in a different neighborhood in Accra. Again, the lack of familiar addresses made it difficult to ask to go somewhere, but our driver got us their quickly and with ease. Joe and I were the first to arrive at the meeting spot. The small mini-van was waiting, but none of the participants, nor the head of the Globe Aware program in Ghana, Richard, were there. We were told Richard had gone to pick up some of the participants and was on his way back.

The quiet, serene street was in opposition to my mounting excitement. I wanted to be on our way. I wanted to see the Volta region – where we were staying, who we’d be working with, what we’d be doing. Not long after we’d arrived, a cab pulled up and out came a man with a backpack. This was Scott. Not on the original list of participants, Scott, in a constant state of wanderlust, had decided to come at the last minute. In just a few minutes of conversation, I discovered that he’d been to many, many places in the world for work and for recreation. I was immediately envious. What would life be like spending 6 months here, 6 months there? Nervously, I told Scott the project that I was embarking on. Quickly he agreed to be a part of it and said he didn’t mind being filmed. Whew! One down!

A short while after Scott arrived, another cab pulled up and out came Richard – greeting Joe and I with a warm hug and kind eyes. Also exiting the cab were Jodee, Wayne and their son, Wyatt. A family filled with energy and wrapped in bug-sprayed bandannas, they loquaciously described the problems they encountered in getting to Accra. How they were stuck in Nigeria for a time, how Wyatt had gotten sick on the journey and how they didn’t know if they were going to get to the meeting place on time. Joe and I then explained our project and all 3 seemed excited by the prospect.

Richard interrupted our conversation to explain that we were still waiting for two more participants – a writer, George, and his son Eamon. George was delayed at a jewlers, so Richard said it would be easier to pick him up there.

We packed the van and then crowded in. Joe and I sat in the back and observed everyone else. A short drive later, we arrived at the meeting place to pick George and his son up. With two more in tow, we smushed into the now, very tightly packed van and began our journey to the Volta Region.

I had to steal myself thinking about how amazing it was that this was happening. Joe and I had our press passes, Richard had had a long talk with a representative at the Ministry of Information’s Office and cleared our trip and all but George and Eamon had agreed to be on film.

I was in Africa. I was in Ghana. This was happening.

Best Laid Plans (Part 6)

Ode to the elusive Press Pass!

Why do you elude me?  You say that you are on your way and yet... why have you not arrived yet?  I promise to be good to you when you arrive... I will do a jig even, and, had I the skills to, I would happily perform a double-triple-loop-backflip.  Yet, here I am, with an empty hand, sitting by my mailbox, longing for it to be filled with some sort of official-looking paperwork.

While our visas arrived very quickly, it seemed that our application for the press pass was misplaced.  The people processing the information could not have been nicer or more helpful and have said that the information has been found now and is currently being processed.  However, the neurotic New Yorker in me will remain concerned until the actual document is in my shakey, nervous hands.  Joe, of course, is not concerned.  He merely shrugged, ordered another round of pancakes and sucked back his third can of root beer.  Joe has, it should be noted, informed me that we are in a marriage of convenience.  The convenience being that he figures, I worry so much, that he need not worry at all.  Convenient for him, stroke-inducing for me.  The truth is, I'm sure it will all work out.  The people I have spoken with have been great and want to help out, but I can also honestly say that I long for the day that I can talk about my want of the press pass in the past tense.  

If you're out there press pass, come home.  We promise to treat you well!!

Best Laid Plans (Part 1)

2007 was looking to be a pretty exciting year for me. My first feature film was being produced by On the Leesh and we were scheduled to go into production that spring.  I'd also penned a new webseries and we were looking to launch the show in late winter.  Professionally, both as a writer and actor, things were looking good and I felt like I'd reached new heights in my career.  Personally however, I'd been struggling.  My husband and I decided that we wanted to start a family in the near future, but needed to work some things out first.  However, in the time it would have taken to have a baby - approximately 9 months later, my husband wanted out. He wanted a new life. Now, to go into the details, to list here what I thought went wrong, what my impression was, what I thought his impression was, would not be worth it.  It would develop into a he said/she said that is neither fair nor informative.  It is only necessary to know that I felt abandoned and given up on.  As I'm sure most divorced people know, to be the one that is left, to be the one that is told you are not what the other person wants is unbearingly horrific.  I found myself falling into some abyss in which I was consumed with unanswered questions and encumbered with insecurities about myself and my own failures.  These thoughts can be a full time job.  Added to that grief were questions about my new (and sad) financial status, my solitary living situation and the responsibilities of my dog and cat that I could no longer share with someone. I felt cooked. I began to think about how the idea of planning in life can sometimes seem ridiculous - how preparing can seem akin to predicting mother nature.  By this time last year, I thought I'd be in babyland along with many of my other friends. But now, I find myself back in this single world that went from meeting people in bars to meeting people online.  The handshake went the way of the online "wink" and the first phone conversation has turned into the first email exchange.  I'm finding that your best laid plans are no plans at all.  So what do you do when you realize you're consumed with your own problems and your major plans have collapsed under your feet?  

You go to Ghana.

This entry marks the first of my weekly logs about flying half-way around the world to bring myself back to reality.  That while my heartache is real, there is a world out there that is in much more need of attention than just another newly single girl living in New York City. This is my first entry in my attempt to spend some time out of my own head and into a more hopeful world.  Stay tuned...