Saturday, April 23, 2011
Thoughts in real time
Gray outside, bright inside.
Buy more coffee later.
It's so nice to be reminded how consistently kind and respectful (and sexy) a real man can be.
Put on Pandora.
Find new music.
Keep your eyes are wide open, Girl.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Happy birthday, Gary Regina!
My favorite musician, the composer of my film, "Cold Tea," and one of the best men I know.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Small things come in big packages
I once knew a man who gave my daughter two small birthday presents, but he wrapped them together in a deceivingly large box. I thought it odd that he didn't want to find a box that reflected the true size of the gift, but then I thought, This is a perfect metaphor for who he is: A big package with the expectation of something big inside, but when you open it, there's just not much there.
Monday, April 04, 2011
Bits & pieces
I made a 9-minute film and published a six-word memoir, so it only seems fitting that I should direct a 15-minute play.
You can purchase tickets here for the American Globe Theatre's 17th Annual 15-Minute Play Festival (April 28th performance), and then come hang out with me, the writer and the cast after the show.
Fun!
You can purchase tickets here for the American Globe Theatre's 17th Annual 15-Minute Play Festival (April 28th performance), and then come hang out with me, the writer and the cast after the show.
Fun!
Sunday, April 03, 2011
Picture perfect days
Two years ago today, I took a picture of the man I loved as he lay sleeping on a hotel room bed. And it seemed so silly then, to take a picture while he slept, but I think I knew it would be the last time for us together like that.
I look at the picture now, and the light coming through the bathroom door reminds me. The bottle of water on the nightstand reminds me, and his worn white t-shirt reminds me; of the passionate and peaceful, easy way we were, like brand new lovers who had known each other for years. And all of those things remind me of what I must never compromise again.
I still have his voice saved on my phone, recorded two years ago this week, and every so often since then, I listen to the message again.
"Hi, Baby," he says so tenderly. "I just wanted to welcome you home. I hope you had good a flight. I miss you already, and I just wanted to say... I had the best three days of my life."
I'm not heartbroken by him, I'm heart fixed by him. I was more accepted, respected, and cared for in those three days than I have been by any man in the last five years, some of the deepest moments between us existing in silence in a noisy room. And I don't need a picture to remind me of what love is, but I'm so glad I have a picture to remind me of what love is.
I look at the picture now, and the light coming through the bathroom door reminds me. The bottle of water on the nightstand reminds me, and his worn white t-shirt reminds me; of the passionate and peaceful, easy way we were, like brand new lovers who had known each other for years. And all of those things remind me of what I must never compromise again.
I still have his voice saved on my phone, recorded two years ago this week, and every so often since then, I listen to the message again.
"Hi, Baby," he says so tenderly. "I just wanted to welcome you home. I hope you had good a flight. I miss you already, and I just wanted to say... I had the best three days of my life."
I'm not heartbroken by him, I'm heart fixed by him. I was more accepted, respected, and cared for in those three days than I have been by any man in the last five years, some of the deepest moments between us existing in silence in a noisy room. And I don't need a picture to remind me of what love is, but I'm so glad I have a picture to remind me of what love is.
Saturday, April 02, 2011
My town
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)