fashion tip #6.

wear a scarf. it will change your mood, add some color, and will make use of an untouched part of your wardrobe (assuming you're like me and buy pretty colored scarves and then never where them).

here's some tips: http://www.texeresilk.com/cms-scarf_tying_guide.html

pause.

my life is on pause.

this seems to happen every time i'm really involved in a project. although because this project is all mine, this pause has really taken over. i don't see friends, i don't go out, i don't see the sun, i live in air conditioning (or in my sweaty unaircon-ed apartment), and i certainly don't have a good time.

perhaps this is because of my obsessive nature. or maybe it's because i'm flat broke. or maybe it's just because this is what i have to do.

inception.

there's this thing that happens when i watch a really good movie. well, not really good, more like inspiring and fucking amazing. i cry.

not big fluffy sobbing tears, but my eyes are wet and i am letting go of an emotion.

i'm not sure if this is because when the credits finally start to roll my body relaxes, the tension is released, and i can now think about what i just saw-and what i just saw made me happy beyond describable. that's probably what it's really all about. my amazement at seeing something so perfectly composed, so well directed and constructed that in watching it, i have reached bliss. i am lost in this world and i am not thinking about my own, i am not aware of my own concerns or even my own happiness, i belong to the director, to the crew, to the actors, i am just a reflection of the reflection of light on the screen.

the movies that have made me feel this way are few, "the departed", "star wars", and i'm sure there are others-but they don't spring to mind and so are therefore not as significant. but i can now add "inception" and have a new bliss and creation to enjoy.

writing about abortion.

i took on what might call a difficult task. i choose to write about a subject that many people don't want to touch with a ten foot pole: abortion.

this does not make me a stronger person or anything like that, it just makes me more determined. and more passionate. or simply more ambitious.

the largest obstacle to this subject matter is the goal to get a certain message across without being preachy. of course anyone who knew what i was writing about gave me the look, "do you really know what you're getting into?". and the answer is still, "yes". but as it comes down to it, the actual biggest obstacle is that people are telling me that a woman can't make this decision without doubting herself. now i have never had an abortion. i can't say with 100% certainty how i would feel, what i would think, when i had to make this decision. however many of the women that i am surrounded by feel the same as me. they feel certain that the decision they would make would be to get an abortion, and that they would not regret it. keep in mind this is not all the women i know, but enough that i don't feel alone in my own conclusions.

now of course one could easily say that i am young and i don't know what the hell i'm talking about. but my response would probably be, i am a smart woman and i know myself. and of course one of the toughest things about this subject is that it is so personal, every person can feel very differently.

but i ask you, why is it so completely objectionable that a young woman be certain about her decision? why are the complainers suggesting, "i think she should doubt herself"? i'm sick of women doubting themselves. i don't care if it makes the character feel more "real". or more "dynamic". i am sick of the idea that this has to be such an emotional decision.

why can't it be, "i don't have time, cash, motivation or desire to have a child, so i'm not going to have one"? just because i had sex does not mean i should be a mother.

"do you have any of your work online?" nope.

people are always asking, "do you have any of your work online?" nope.

so i've considered starting a website for myself. it would be nice to be able to send people to a place where my contact information is, as well as samples of my work. a friend of mine just created one, and it's real classy.

but this got me thinking, i probably should have a photo of myself on my website. with facebook, and all the other online social networking, access to photos of who you are is more important.

but which photo?

my friend's is simple, and has nothing really to do with his area of expertise. i like it. but i was thinking of my own picture and how i would frame it, location, wardrobe, all the basics, and realized i could not have the same type of photo.

if i were to dress formally i would either have to look dyke-y in a jacket and button up shirt or girly in a nice dress (as these are my two modes of "dress up" and i would still want to be "me"). either way i would be giving a distinct gender message that has nothing to do with what i can offer as a filmmaker.

and this is what my point is:

as a woman i cannot just take a photo of myself. women are still judged on their appearance, with only two modes: whore or prude. in other words, women = sex. this re-realization makes me cringe, it makes me want to puke and cry at the same time. gross, i know.

one could argue i am taking this too far, but think about it. women's "formal wear" is traditionally a dress. a modern dress is going to be formfitting in some way, and therefore "sexy". the choice of pants makes a different statement, possibly that's "she's gay!" (which i am fine with, but i'm not gay so...) if the pants are too "manly", or if they are "modern" then they are probably formfitting and therefore "sexy".

a friend of mine told me about a class that she was required to take in the final term of her undergraduate degree. this class was about women in the professional world: interviews, work place etiquette, etc. one of the recommendations of this class was that for an interview wear a skirt, a long conservative skirt. the reasoning was that wearing pants was too revealing. wtf? WTF?! so basically if you can see the outline of my legs or--god forbid--my ass, i am saying "come and get it!" and trying to get a job with my womanly parts? *dasfhseethingangerssdfjk* ARRGH!

why does it always come back to women having to compromise in order to appease the menfolk? why the hell can't the men just control their sexual overdrive and stop looking at my ass? i'm sure i don't even have to mention the cultures built around men being unable to control their urges, and therefore choosing to confine, trap, beat, murder and systematically oppress fifty percent of their population.

when is this going to change?

back to the movies.

i wanted to see "whip it". they said it wasn't going to be very good. i said, "i don't care." they said it was going to be typical Hollywood fare. and i said, "whatevs". but in my heart i feared for my lovely Drew. i really wanted to love it, i really wanted to cheer and cry and say, "i wanna see it again!".

and then the movie started [SPOILERS below].

it was what was to be expected. girl doesn't fit in, girl sees awesome women that she wants to join, girl trains, girl is kick ass good, parents find out, and then it all works out in the end. but there are three reasons why this is more than that.

1. Ellen Page: there are moments in this film where she delivers a line and it is more than a delivery. she gives the response that is in your head, that you would say (or at least want to say) but it wouldn't actually come out. and despite the non-reality of it, it makes the fiction of this film, less fiction. this also could be that these are the moments that Ellen Page is not acting.

2. 2nd place: in the beginning of the film the team finally scores some points, after Bliss (Page) has joined the team. they don't win, but they're stoked cause they scored and did well. they triumphantly shout, "we're number two! we're number two!". this is cute b/c they're #2 of 2 and are just happy to be a team. in the end of the film we return to this same sentiment as it comes down to the wire and the "hurl scouts" do not win. but they make the best of it! they are happy and congratulate each other and cheer, "we're number two!" and we the audience are with them. this is quite the feat, and a powerful message--all be it one we've heard before--that we really believe in this circumstance.

3. the boy: and more important, but less important to the plot, there is the "boyfriend". he is cute and fun, and Bliss enjoys him, but he is not the driving force. when Bliss is fighting for her freedom, it is not for this guy, but for her love of derbying. when Bliss is confronted with evidence of his cheating she doesn't second guess it, not for a second. this may not be what most of us would do, but it is what we should do. we deserve better and that is what Drew is telling us.

"whip it" is good. it is a film that i would show my hypothetical daughter proudly. and this is something for Drew to be very proud of. the shear force of her intentions on this product ring clear, and that is amazing. it is funny, and sweet, and empowering and even beautiful. i'm reminded of the feeling of watching Zach Braf's "garden state" but am left with a sweet taste in my mouth.

my cat died.

and it sucks.

she was the most amazing sweet, gentle, fun kitty ever, and i love her and i feel like shit for not taking her with me to college and not getting to snuggle her every night that i didn't get to snuggle her.

i have never actually had to be in the room when a pet was euthanized, and i have not even had to say goodbye to a pet since i was in elementary school (tangent: when recently cleaning out my stuff from my parents' basement i found a journal that had one entry in it. it was from the day my dog died. i wrote about how much i cried and drew a picture of where we buried her).

she was so tiny.

she was always a fat cat. that's what we called her, "fat cat" or "pot belly". my called her a "sack of bones" in the end.

kitty started out as the runt. so small and silly. at nine i even took her into my class and did a report on her, looked down at her little face the whole time. that was my teacher's criticism. kitty always had to put up with me when i was a grabby little fourth grader who always wanted to be holding her, and a grabby little 25 year old who always wanted to be holding her. in the end i was the one holding her when we went to the vet. i was the last on to hold her, but i wasn't the one to hold her when she was in the box, all taped up. my mom had to do that.

right now i'm left with soggy red eyes and a desire for distraction and pizza. there's also the really depressing thought that now i know what my next tattoo should be, a copy of my favorite kitty photo.

there's also the fact that my mom had this film that she wanted me to make, starring kitty. my first film a made, that i did by myself at the nwfc, was starring kitty. this last year my mom kept saying, "we have to make it, kitty's not gonna be around much longer." i don't think i wanted to believe her. and now i want to make the film. i have some ideas of how to make it still staring kitty, but it'll be sad. she was the best actress i've ever worked with.

random fashion tip #5.

remember in middle school when you went school shopping and you got to pick out your new clothes for the whole school year? you got to decide would you dress grungy? preppy? hippie? and remember how going through rack after rack of the jc penny's junior section you felt like a cat with a fresh batch of cat nip? you never got to go there any other time, and this trip was totally on mom's dime. and everything felt so exciting, with all those new fashion options. and you had no inclination to dress sexy, but just to find something cool.

why can't shopping be like that anymore?

fashion tip #5: go shopping with your mom (or best friend) and pretend like it's middle school all over again and you've got the chance to pick out that first day of school outfit. (you may need to save up for this if you're anything like me, b/c i betcha mom or your best friend is not going to foot the bill).

random fashion tip #4.

#4: clothes that are too small? no. the jeans that you'll loose weight to fit in to? passé. buy clothes that fit and that are comfortable. this just happens to lead into that whole being comfortable in your own skin, because everyone is beautiful and sexy and sappy sappy sappy sap.

(just because i called it sappy doesn't make it any less true).

another step forward for men, and 3 back for women... ugh.

lately i've been obsessively reading jezebel.com

i have a lot of pseudo free time at work and with that time i decided to get informed. to me that meant a little real news & a little entertainment, and no corporate bull shit. hello, jezebel! also this means i get a healthy dose of feminism (making me even more of an aggressive, don't mess with me, kinda gal).

today i read this article: and it was just another example of when men get there first.

the article focuses on the fact that gay men don't need "fag hags" any more because it has become socially acceptable to be a gay man. in the past "fag hags" were the beard for gay men. they could go to a wedding and pretend to be straight with their giggling "girlfriend", introduce their lady friend to their mother, or have a photo on their desk at work.

however, this has changed. now you can be gay and have straight male friends, you can even come out pre puberty and you don't even have to be flamboyant. this is fantastic. really. not sarcastically--i am very happy for every step towards equality. of course none of these new stereotypes are across the board, i'm sure, there is still manystaps to take, but for some men they are true and therefore the "fag hag" is a passe accessory for gay men.

in the other half of this arrangement, women still want and need their gay male accomplice. this article explains that it may not necessarily be the fat, dorky, outsider women who want this sex-free male friend, but they are still desired by the paris hilton fashionistas--who need validation from a male face, but have no idea what being gay, or an outsider, is all about. in other words, women are still shallow, they NEED validation, and they can only get it from men--female opinions just won't do.

what this all boils down to is that in this country, yet again, women don't get theirs. men can be gay, a black man can be president, but women can't be women--even the straight and white variety. women are still insecure, still have to dress a certain way to be a serious politician (or a serious anybody), and still have to look to others to know when they are right. when will this change, you ask? women had to wait 50 years after non-white men got to vote (officially--although of course their were still reading tests and plenty of other discrimination that delayed voting rights), and racism is still prevalent even after we have a black man in the white house.

i believe the answer is, maybe by the end of my lifetime. maybe.


p.s. i've always hated the term "fag hag" so if that disappears? i'm not gonna tear up.

random fashion tip #3.

#3: when you can feel the wind in the hair on your legs, it's time to shave. but there is no obligation, rebel against the hairless and enjoy being a dainty sasquatch.

random fashion tip #2

i date depressed boys because my father is depressed. what a depressing fate.
back on subject,

fashion tip #2: DO NOT be afraid of bright colors. they make people happy.

liz's random fashion tip #1.

portland is hot.

no one can sleep, including me. i got in a huge tiff with my partner last night, only made worse by this heat. and despite all the exciting film related opportunities in my life, i feel quite negative. so i'm going to distract myself and you!

i am a fashion queen. or at least all the fawning i get when i walk into a room leads me to this conclusion. and being the amazing inspiration that i am, i feel that keeping all my knowledge to myself is selfish. and because i am not selfish, i shall share some of my fashionista secrets with you, one at a time.



#1: when you find a dress with pockets, buy it. do not question how cute it looks, what color it is, or any of those silly considerations. you'll make it work and you'll thank me later.

akward.

i feel like there's something crawling underneath my skin. i see ten different things in front of me, each one out of reach, and each one the wrong and right choice.

i left town. i was stressed, too busy, had too many commitments, and i left town. three weeks. gone. absent, not in contact, except to a few. nothings changed. my skin is still crawling and i still don't know where to turn. i want to run. i guess that's what i did, but i want to run again, more pertinently and further. the other side of the world, gone. disappeared. i wondering if i will always be haunted by the freedom i felt in japan?

that's what it was: freedom. from commitments, from talking to people, from making decisions. it's the cheaters way out. the cop-out. it's not something i believe in.

face your problems, demons, what have you; do not run. i am not lola.

it's probably the 3 hours of sleep last night, the jittery starbucks this morning, i'll be fine tomorrow, after i sleep.

blum.

random words that mean nothing but are funny noises are sometimes the best way to really describe how you're feeling. best friends sometimes have all the answers and sometimes they are all the problems.

i am one busy kitten right now. for the hundredth time in my life i have over committed myself. and i am still wallowing in the winter doldrums of t.v. addiction, chocoholism and basic procrastination. the question that faces me now is do i need a change or do i not need a change.

getting comfortable in life is amazing. you can sit there and and stupidly smile knowing everything is alright and that you don't need to worry. of course this also leads to unmotivation and a lack of follow through (kinda the same thing but... still). have i gotten so complacent that i am not making the leaps and bounds that i need to be making right now? i am 25. a quarter century. i'm not quite where i imagined myself, but i'm not far off. i think i'm supposed to be on the edge of some grand scheme to really be headed in the right direction--at least according to my 15 year old self. fuck. that's 10 years ago. i just realized that. 10 years from now... where do i want to be? now that is a cliche question, but it is one that i used to ask myself over and over. but then i changed. i changed for those around me, i changed to fit in, i changed to be normal. now i'm so normal i'm cool and i'm the kid in class who distracts you from what the teacher is saying. that is NOT the person that i want to be and 2 years ago i resolved (as a kind of infinite new years resolution) to be the person that i want to be, not the person that i am today. i think the person that i want to be wants some change. they want to have those people in their life that are important and cool and unique, but they also want to move forward and remember that everyone else can't come first.

i'm still terrified. but that's not the person that i want to be so i guess i can't be anymore.

reading "the autographman" has brought me back into that mode of inspiration and creativity. everyone talks about going and living away from it all, at the beach or on an island, but away. to be there and create to be free from distractions and change the world through the thoughts had out in the middle of no where. of course, as we saw in "into the wild" you can take that concept to far.

OBAMA DAY!!!

and it all comes to a rushing end.

i thought my grin could not be wiped off my face to day. i must have wished like 50 people a 'happy obama day' today. i still had 'we are the champions' ringing in my ears from the previous night. the memory of the crazy glee at 37th and hawthorn. we have a fucking black president. we have a democrat administration. we have a democrat government! it amazing and beautiful and then there's the big ol' but...

i had a shit day in class tonight. my teacher actually walked out. but not before insulting me personally. and i know that he did this in the first place because he felt insulted by the class, but shit that was crashing. i haven't felt this worthless in a long time. at least i had my mother reminding me that i am good at whatever i set my mind to, and that i am capable of succeeding. but shit. i feel like an ass and just so disappointed that this day is ending this way.

but (and there it is again) i'm not going to let it. this is one of the best days of my life and i spent it smiling, canvassing for HRC, talking to some fab people and feeling proud to be an american.

i thought i had it.

and now i've lost it. not completely. not really. but still... i skim the edges of it when i start something new, when my fingers glide of the the jumble of bumps, spikes, smoothness of inspiration. then i see where i used to be: riding high on tangible reality of my talent, of my ability. not now though. now i feel like an idiot. like an ant in the horde of ants, indistinguishable. nearly useless and certainly nothing special. i question everything in my late night dismal decline. sleep beckons, and quitting does, too. i'm getting good at that. quitting. giving up. i have no patience, i have no will power to push through the uncomfortable, i think i'm better than it, i think i deserve more, but do i? am i really greater than those i leave behind? the only thing that separates us is my ability to quit. my ability to say 'fuck you. fuck this.' and that deserves no admiration, despite those that give it to me as i walk out the door. is this the rest of my life? my frustration, my arrogance ruling my life? or will i learn to give in, will i break to others' will and 'fit in' and thereby be happy. is that it? or do i cling to the foolhardy who say, 'yes!' and push through these late night declines. maybe this? sleep beckons.

making love.

i just finished watching "the diving bell and butterfly" and all i went to do is make love to a beautiful woman.

it had been sitting on my desk for nearly a month and i just hadn't gotten around to it, but i sat down and settled in. and let me say it was beautiful. a movie worthy of the big screen. the feelings of being trapped, the sympathy, the understanding, the desire, the little subtleties, everything. it was stunning.

it reminded me of being in paris and hearing french all around me, and the wonderful architecture of paris, and the art and the pompousness and clothes, and snootiness. and beauty.

the colors, the in and out of focus, the structure, the actors. beautiful. that's it. that's the word. and from there is the desire to make love, to revel in someone else's flesh. to kiss, to nuzzle, to enjoy. to touch. the sense of desire from the main character was not obsessed over, or spelled out, but it was there, palatable, and felt through the screen. and to take from that the urge to live life, to be alive, i cannot escape. yet even as i say this i know, although i have the real desire again, i am not ready. i'm still figuring things out, i'm still (to some extent) purposefully busy, and i still am enjoying my solitude and through that the time to consider, think and grow.

star wars porn.

well... not actually porn. but it might as well be.

i picked them up again, the bantam star wars books. and i qualify that because the other ones don't count. i've read the series at least two other time all the way through (there are about 40 novels, each over 300 pgs), and most significantly i read them all one summer in middle school (or high school, i can't remember) and i read like one a day. i couldn't put them down.

and here i go again. i'm reading "the courtship of princess leia" right now, and i'm loving it more. i forgot how feminist it was, featuring two matriarchal societies. i am looking at the time now, knowing i should just go to sleep, but i know it won't happen. i will be off to gorge on another 50 pages or so before sleep overwhelms.

it can be a little distracting, but i am also so in love with life right now, and really being an artist-in film school and all-that 's it's jsut one more pleasure to make me grin.

but this weekend? yet another shoot that i'm stoked on, to be foreshadowed by a thursday shoot that i know will be awesome.

dr. horrible's fantastic sing-a-long.

i've watched it 2 and a 1/3 times now. it's amazing.

i could list a whole bunch of other words and go on and on about how in love with joss whedon i am, but we know (and if you don't, go find out http://www.drhorrible.com/ ) and really what i'm trying to say is i'm inspired. i'm already inspired by all the kids in my classes and what i'm getting to do on other's projects and just this jumping into film that i'm doing and i am so happy.

i want to make something just that awesome. that's the point of this moment in my typing. i'm going to. i know i can, but i really want to do it right now. but something that awesome takes lots of work and thought and rewrites and planning and teamowrk and i love it all, but i want it now. not later.

i'm gonna start. i'm gonna make it work. i'm gonna rock it. i'm gonna be amazing and i already see it, i just have to have patience.

and quit my job.