About My Cat

Don't mistake the quiet here as some sort of evidence that nothing is happening—far from it! We have (magically, thankfully, almost unbelievably) attained the services of an honest to goodness casting agency that has agreed to cast this little piece of work. The results of that incredible turn of fate are coming down the line shortly and you (all two of you out there in blog-reader land... Hi Dad!) will be the first to know what those results are.

I've secured a location. Ironically (by which I mean very deliberately) one of the scenes takes place in an office... and I work in an office! The beloved day job is allowing us access to film there. Big ups CB&S! Plus I found a coworker with production experience and she has agreed to help us. Whoop whoop, Karrie!

See it's all coming along nicely.

In the meantime I've been alive, doing stuff. I don't do much in the way of personal anecdotes here so, if you have a minute, I'll tell you a little about that stuff. It's not terribly interesting but I missed you guys so I just wanted to chat...

I've been listening to Pandora. It's place where music goes to be meticulously organized so that it may be delivered to the people in a precise, spot-on, and inordinately cool way. If you haven't checked it out yet, go now. All they want is an email address and so far, I've encountered no spam, just useful messages on how to improve and tweak a resource you never knew was indispensable. (Basically it works by having you pick "seed" songs or artists and they stream music to you that shares qualities with those choices.)

Currently, I'm listening to my "Writing Station". It's based on Peter Gabriel's soundtrack to The Last Temptation of Christ, and the music of God Speed You Black Emperor and Explosions in the Sky. No words. All songs are at least 7 minutes long. They go from soaring to grinding to quiet and back to flying. Listening to this, one is reminded of wheat fields as the wind blows through them, or burnt down, post-apocalyptic shopping malls with tiny shoots of green growing up through the rubble, or rain descending on deserted streets. This was the music I was listening to when I wrote the second half of the short. I think the music allowed the contemplation necessary to arrive at the specific ending we now have. Yum.

When I don't write movies (or commercials for grocery stores) I like to write stories. Did you know that one of my stories almost got into McSweeney's once? Print version too! No really! Yeah, we all know the relationship between almost, horseshoes, hand grenades, and everything else. Right now I'm brewing a story about scientists, disappearing birds, and faith/pride versus love. One of the characters is named Benito. Fun to say, yes? Ben-eee-toh.

We also rearranged the living room. This task involved a quick trip to Ikea (sometimes you want a square table to go next to the couch and you want it right now and it's 8pm on a Sunday and all the cute thrift shops have long since closed so you go to Ikea—surprise! I'm a freakin' American). But during this trip, our cat was locked inside the temporarily empty television cabinet. Poor Maude. When we got home she had to walk around the entire apartment and smell each and every thing in it. This little tale has little or no bearing on the world at large, but sometimes I wonder if I'm not misusing my Blog privileges by not relating minute, inconsequential details about my offspring and/or pets. So there you go. I talked about my cat.

That said, I must sign off. Triviality gives me hives. Thanks for stopping by.