Thursday, December 29, 2005

New Orleans

This afternoon, I flew down to New Orleans to meet up with a friend of mine who is moving. I offered help keep her company on the three day drive from the state of LA to the city known as L.A.

Miche is what I more often than not call this friend of mine, partly because any name that can be condensed to one syllable works best for me. Maybe its the business I work for where I mostly refer to my friends and coworkers as babe, lady, hun, sir, or the nickname of thier chosing. Or maybe it is the busy New York life style. Maybe I am just to lazy or not obligated to say the whole thing.

Anyway, from what I have seen in the papers or heard on the news I expected New Orleans to be leveled to the ground. But as I was landing, I looked out the window to see a surprisingly bumbling city. Just below me was a bridge over a bay that was so long that I couldn't see the whole thing from my window. I later found out that this bridge was over 24 miles long and the longest built over any body of water.

The airport was busy with people coming and going home from their busy holidays. All of the stores and newstands inside the airport were open and there was no visible damage.

I met up with Miche who brought her mother and boyfriend to greet me. As I waddled my way to the car, arms full of luggage, I saw more buildings and business intact. Despite my preconcieved view of the city post-Katrina, most of the city looks ok. Houses stand in numerous rows and grids. Resturants and malls are open. There are FEMA trialers scattered in the city and its suburbs but people seem to be continuing to pick up the lives that were altered by disaster.

Two things I hadn't heard of or even considered upon my arrival to New Orleans: mold and normalcy.

The entire city sat in water for weeks with no where for the water to go. As you drive through certain parts of the city, there are visible water lines across the buildings, lamp posts, and signs. Miche's boyfriend had to move into a house around the corner from his own because more than half of his house, though barely damaged, was covered in mold. From the outside houses and resturants look functional, lived in, or at least liveable but inside they were rotting. Each building had to be gutted and rebuilt before it could be functional or inhabitable.

One can only guess or ask around to find out which places have reopened. If you need to get a cup or coffee, buy a book, or get your oil changed. You may end up driving around in circles for hours finding a place that provides the service you are looking for. Tonight we went out to dinner and four or the restuarants we stopped taking names at 8pm despite a huge crowd or guests. At 8:12pm, we finally managed to find a resturant that would take us but they had both a limited staff and menu. And to my dissappointment there was NO bread pudding. SOLD OUT! What do you have to do to get a decent dessert in this town?

Van Gogh Exhibit

After driving back from New Hampshire last night, having dinner with the fam, and shlubbing all of my post holiday baggage back into the city, I had just about 14 hours to repack and head to the airport to make my flight to New Orleans.

But some where in there, I found it immensely important to walk in the rain to the Met to see the Van Gogh exhibit. I have not only been anticipating in my dreams but have also made plans on numerous occasions to attend, though I am over worked and slept through every attempt.

For the better part of my art appreciating life, Van Gogh has been both an inspiration and an artist of intrigue. Starry Night was on my first credit card, though it is not one of my personal favorites. I like his drawings. His ability to take lines and create illusion of detail. His ability to sketch human life and his use of the working class rather than nobility. And in his paintings, I am amazed by Van Gogh's vivid use of color.

At seven in the morning, I woke up to finish packing. The exhibit opened at nine and in order to make my flight I had to be there at 9 exactly. Which of course didn't happen. I had to buy an umbrella, make a stop at both, of my banks and get a cup of coffee which led me to the bottom of the steep museum stairs at about 9:20am. There was a line to get into the museum, a line to check your coat, buy a ticket enter the exhibit. I spent about 40 minutes over all in the hall filled with 113 total works. And I took a moment, stopped and stared at about 85 percent of the pieces displayed. I wish I had more time.

I stood breathless in the crowd being pushed in either direction. Every one wanting to read the note of get a closer look at each drawing. The crowd only piled up more and more, with the lines getting longer and longer. I am frantically running out of time.

As I walked out of the museum and shuffled my way home in the rain, there was a line nearly three blocks long to get into the museum. I had never seen a line so long that only allowed admittance to the museum. And still there were more and more roped off areas designated for waiting before one could enter the exhibit. But I had made it through. And it was worth every frustration.

The exhibit ends December 31st. And every time I flip through one of my many books featuring the art of Van Gogh, I will always be grateful for my 40 minutes of crowded anxious wonder.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

American Bull Dog

I spent this holiday season in rural New Hampshire with my family. The day after Christmas my sister and her boyfriend met up with my immediate family and my grandparents house. They pulled up in her boyfriend's new truck and out of the back seat hoped out her 95 pound moose dog. My sister calls her Lily or lily bean and I decided this mut has no personality traits that warrant the name Lily so I just call her Bean.

Bean has a sort of carmel chocolate swirl coloration, a smooshed piggy nose, and flappy lips. She's just about one of the dumbest things I have ever met, bet she is sweet so it is hard not to love her.

I don't know why but Lily Bean feels it necessary to bark at most men. My dad, my uncle, and to a certain extent my grandfather would be greeted with growls and howls from the pooch as they came and went. My childhood dog used to do this; bark at men she was unfamiliar with or felt threatened by. I would think maybe this is a female protective thing or maybe it was just in both of their nature's to find men unworthy of instant trust and affection.

Being a female myself Lily bean had no problems trusting me. She always tried to hop up into my bed after my sister left, which of course was not allowed. She would also sit in front of you and look at you just long enough for you to start petting her, at which point lily bean would go belly up and expect a full tummy massage. I will admit I fall guilty of her puppy charms.

Today I decided to go ice skating on the lake in front of my grandmother's house. The next door neighbor's who I tend to skate with were running errands in town (about 45 minutes away) so I decided to go by myself. Which didn't last long, Lily bean was out playing in the snow. When she spotted me on the ice, she came barreling down the hill and started chasing my back and forth on the ice.

I would try to fool the dumb dog and turn fast or suddenly change directions but I was no challenge for her speed.

So she decided to fool me. I was skating toward the dog at full speed when crash. She shoved her head up my parka and I went flying face first onto the ice. She brought me down and I stayed there with tears of laughter.

One point for you Lily bean. I must say for a dumb dog she sure makes a fine companion.

Monday, December 26, 2005

King Kong

I've never been able to sit through all of Lord of the Rings. I may have seen the first one in a condensed television version. But most people who know me know that I can't sit still for more than a half an hour unless I am sleeping. I can't play Monopoly and I don't have the attention span for epics. Sorry Peter Jackson, I think your work is brilliant and your use of CAG to create emotional and motivated characters within an actor driven film is commendable.

I think that Peter Jackson has done for the younger generation what George Lucas did with the original Star Wars trilogy. At times the technology seems flawless and the realism that is created within a fantasy world enables the viewer to enter that world for themselves. Jackson's films challenge the imagination and asks their viewer to stay awhile; to escape from their jobs, children, wives, or studies and become a member of the party, crew, or fellowship.

But three hours... You really have to help me out here. Going into King Kong, I knew the film would require not only a soda, but a bucket of popcorn and a bag of candy. I would have be considerate of the other people who were crowding into the theatre with me. According to what I believe to be proper movie theatre etiquette, for three whole hours I would need to observe these two practices: minimize figiting and resist all urges to direct any opinions at the movie screen.

Being a Cinema Studies minor and a movie enthusiast, I have spent many hours in a movie theatre. I have been annoyed by many who have not observed proper etiquette.

One Hour and forty minutes pass. Naomi Watts it almost eaten by a bug, lava, scorpion. The predators get meaner and bigger and for about 20 minutes the blonde bombshell runs from almost being eaten. That is until (not to spoil it for any one who hasn't seen the film... but it is slightly obvious especially if you have ever seen or even heard of the original) Kong comes to her rescue.

Kong fights the monster or the minute and is out number. For the next 10 minutes, Kong fights to save his lovely lady from being eaten.

10 minutes into digitally mastered monster-on-monster action. "Oh come on" I say loud enough for 6 rows in either direction to hear me.

Oops...

I'm sorry but really 25 minutes of watching Naomi Watts almost get eaten is enough.

But then I remember that this movie is Epic.
I should not ever be allowed to view epics in public.

Friday, December 09, 2005

big screen

Yesterday, for the first time. I was in a film not per chance but with an actual purpose. After working with actors for the past few months, I have come to realize that I do on occasion slip into a scene, usually not noticing. This is partially because I need to be close to the actors between cuts and sometimes the frame changes leaving room for one to slip in unexpectedly. And that one person, is without fault ends up being wardrobe, make up, hair, an assistant director, or me.

Some where in the middle of a four hour subway ride, the director wanted a new look something different to throw into frame. And I happened to watch in at just the time he wanted to shake things up a bit.

I will admitt that I looked much different than the wardrobe approved extras with my thermals and heavy work boots. My eyes red and swollen after months of working 80 hour weeks. I am almost embarassed that this is the way I ended up on the screen. But I am still excited to watch my silly face sitting on a subway car chatting with a "professional" pantamimer on 35 mm.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

lost and found

While typing up an email or two, I realized that I may have lost my touch. My passion for writting is as strong as ever but the last thing I applied it to was Lukas Haas's lunch order. For the past year I have been working in film and television. I did get the job at Law and Order. I worked there for three months before getting a job a show for the Style network called the Look for Less with Yoanna House.

Since then I continue to climb the production ladder. I have met great actors and worked with directors whom I admire.

But today am overjoyed to be using online in my home. For the past year, I have been fighting with my old Dell laptop that had the personality and fuctioning capacity of a old man with the flu. Which actually may have been the problem. Viruses. Viruses ate away my computer and age made it harder to heal with every infection.

It's hard to believe that for almost a year, I was cut off from my established digital world.