Tuesday, January 30, 2007

I'm learning to love the long process of intimacy with this city - this vast outspreading of openwork streets, shooting past the grimacing faces of too many disheveled coin laundries and quickie-marts and perfunctory city parks, with their spotty grass and lonely skateboarders.

It's the repurposing of a space. This street, that you once only knew as the spot the farmer's market sets up on Sunday mornings, is the one you drive to in the morning for a job. You breeze in the mysterious door that you used to see only as the background behind the woman who sold good lettuce.

Maybe it won't be so bad, being here a little while longer. It feels right, and we've only just begun to unfold ourselves into this high-perched space.

Monday, January 22, 2007

It's half past two in the morning, and I'm shooting again.

Lulled by the gentle mechanical shivering of my motorhome perch, I'm watching the lunch tables twitter with workaday chatter. Even though it's at the painful juncture of late and early, everyone here shares a surreal sense of normalcy, bolstered by the standard set of rules we hang these projects on: I arrive, and in six hours I eat. My timecard is there, my tools are here, the trucks are over there.

The second assistant director is singing Led Zeppelin to himself in the client room and shuffling SAG contracts, and I'm nipping at a spoonful of artichoke dip.

It'll be nice to get home.

Monday, January 08, 2007

I swore I'd never golf. Up and down, really. I cursed the argyle; cursed the apparently overphilosophic monologues on the lessons of golf; cursed the conspicuous consumption; cursed the water-hungry, overfertilized greens pumping chemicals into the aquifer.

Oh, how far I've traveled.

Imagine that this sentence would ever emerge from me, and then marvel that it has:

The race at the California Speedway was cancelled due to perilously high winds, so we spent the day at the golf course instead.

Tee hee.

It's a giggle and three quarters, I tell you.

In any case, golf surprised me. Not only did I enjoy it scads more than I was expecting to, but the physicality of it came as a bit of a shock. It hurts! My muscles are actually sore this morning. Trippy, no?