Secret...

I have, at the same time, an affinity for and am repelled by teenagers.

Gestures

A friend sent this little picture to me late last night, and what makes it sweeter is that it arrived at just the right moment.

Cold Tea Goes Hawaiian

Yes, you heard it, our short film, "Cold Tea" has been accepted into the 2007 "Big Island Film Festival." Aloha!

1 Year Ago (A post revisited)

Three Dog Night, March 11, 2006

Returning home from a Friday night out, I saw a three-legged dog standing on the corner of 67th Street & 10th Avenue. He was a big dog, a happy dog, and he looked up at his owner, I could swear, with a smile on his face.

What is it about a three-legged dog that makes me soften, makes me feel tender, and gives me a sense of comfort?

I did a quick Internet search of the three-legged dog and was surprised at what I found. There were three-legged dog stories, three-legged dog poems, and three-legged dog jokes. There were websites dedicated to three-legged dogs, and three-legged dog clubs. A tavern in New Orleans was called The Three-Legged Dog, and an article in The Hollywood Reporter announced that Sandra Bullock had adopted … a three-legged dog.

People project everything onto their dogs. Their emotions, their qualities, even their physical appearances. So perhaps what I see, and what others see in a three-legged dog, is that even when we are not whole, even when we are broken, we can still be okay, more than okay.

One night, shortly after my father died, I was lying in bed with my mother. We stared at the ceiling together and cried. I said to her, “I feel as if our family is now standing on three legs instead of four.” And she replied, “But it’s a strong three legs.”

Acceptance

I'm out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. Annie says, "Mommy, you're naked and I love you."

Pull over here

Back on February 22, I posted a little piece about my brother Michael and the time he drove a taxi in New York City. That very day a cab driver in San Francisco was posting something of his own and decided to click on the "Next Blog" link at the top of his page. I'm not sure what he found, but when he clicked it again, he landed at the Half Note and on that story.

Click here for an entertaining peek into the mind of California's most Pissed Off Cabbie.

More tea?

Click here. Sedona had a little blog for each film, including a brief production still slideshow.

Pretty girl

Click to enlarge photo.

Just two

I used to have only one regret in my life, and that was that I didn’t pay enough attention to my dog after Annie was born. Now, in addition to that, I regret not having taken a video camera to Sedona so I could edit together a piece, set it to music, and have a shot at expressing just an ounce of what I feel for that place.

Oh well, here's a photo I took on one of my hikes.

And the survey says...

At the 2007 Sedona International Film Festival, 163 audience members rated our film. Because of its odd nature, we always knew that "Cold Tea" would only appeal to a person with a certain sensibility. So, though our scores were not off the charts, I thought we did pretty well.

Out of the 163 people who rated the film, 36 people thought it was off the hook, 38 people loved it, 56 people thought is was okay, 25 people thought it wasn’t very good and 6 people thought it was crap.

It should be noted that when the 6 people left the theatre, they also left their candy wrappers on the floor, punched out an usher and kicked a dog in the parking lot.

By the way ~ prairie preacher

Rev. Shawn suggests we hug our daughters in honor of International Women's Day.

You decide.

Annie: "It's Women's History Month so I have to write a report about a great woman who's inspired me."

Katie: "Then why not write about me?"

Annie: "MOM, I said a GREAT woman!"

By the way ~ aerophant

Tai, the Anisette ones may have been the cookie of choice for my Grandpa Joe, but they became my choice too. And when you dunk those bad boys in milk, baby there aint no shame.

Not Really a Film~ (volume up)

Can't stop listening to...

My soundtrack for Sedona and the days following.

Sedona Rocks

Sedona is the only place in the world where the McDonald's arches are not golden.



Ravens are everywhere in Sedona, but to me they never cease to appear magnificent and rare.



One member of the Film Festival's Board of Directors said that she loved "Cold Tea," and called it "A modern day Chekhov."



Aside from ours, my favorite short film at the festival was called, "Undressing My Mother." It was beautiful and human.



I ate rattlesnake in Sedona.



A bald eagle flew overhead while I rode a horse through the green valley.



I cried my eyes out on the Carefree Highway.

I'm home.

Sedona Secret...

Two nights ago at a party, I met a painter from New Mexico. He was 6'4" and about as sweet and sexy as they come. I was attracted to him, he was a master flirt but it was his intelligence that got me. He told me I was beautiful but the way he looked into my eyes, I could tell he was responding to who I was. We planned to meet outside; he was going to kiss me. I didn't go.

Tonight I wish I had.

Pssst...

I'm here in Sedona, the Film Festival is amazing, "Cold Tea" had its first screening yesterday and we've received much praise as well as a few odd glances. This is the first time I've come to use the hotel computer because honestly, aside from sleeping, I can't bear to spend one minute inside. Sedona is the most beautiful place I've ever seen and the moment I laid eyes on it I knew it would be an important part of my future. I'm at home here, experiencing a kind of peace I've never known. With that said, I'll report more when I return to New York, now I'm off on my morning hike, horseback riding with Annie this afternoon, and another Film Festival party tonight. (Man do the film fest folks love to party.)

Faithfully Yours,

Katie

Pssst...

I'm going to bed, rising at 4:45 am, on my way at 6.

Assuming the energy vortex doesn't interfere with the Internet, I'll try and report from Sedona.

Thanks for all the well wishes.

Love,

Katie

Favorite Painting

"The Birth of Venus," Sandro Botticelli, c. 1485-1486

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

I shoulda been a rock star...



I coulda been a sound engineer...



I woulda walked in on a guy robbing my apartment if, at the last minute, I hadn't decided to stop at the corner store before going home...

1 day to Sedona...

Much to do today. Will I be able to blog more? Will there be time? Will I blog from Sedona? Will I be able?

Stay tuned.

xoxoxo

Oscarvations

I can easily say that once upon a time, I was a movie buff. But for the last several months there’s been such a drama playing out in my life, I've had little need to search for entertainment in places outside my own head.

I didn't see many movies this year, but at the Homestead last night I did see about half of this year’s Academy Award show. Some of it was the same old Hollywood garbage, but some of it I was pleasantly surprised by.

So, whether you like it or not, here are this year’s “Oscarvations” from The Half Note...



“Babel” should have won for Best Editing.

Although I can't sit through any of his films (the violence thing), Martin Scorsese is a genius and long overdue for an Oscar, so I'm glad he won.

Although I think Helen Mirren is a brilliant actress, please see my review of "The Queen" to see why I do not think she should have won for Best Actress.

When I asked a friend if he had taken his son to see “Happy Feet,” his answer to me was, “I didn’t take him to that shit.”

That “Shit” was one of my favorite children’s movies ever. Great music, beautifully animated, intelligent and sweet with an underlying message of love. I was “Happy” it took the award.

Don’t ask me why, but I did see "Dreamgirls," and although it would have made a better Movie of the Week than a feature, Jennifer Hudson was so lovely and I'm glad she won. (I wish I’d seen her speech.)

I have a crush on Ryan Gosling.

I'm not an Eddie Murphy fan, so I’m not sure why I wanted him to win.

I liked Alan Arkin's acceptance speech; modest, and heartfelt.

"Little Miss Sunshine" won for Best Original Screenplay and I loved that movie.

The screenwriter of “Little Miss Sunshine” appeared humble and that was refreshing.

I find it a bit backwards that the rich and famous get stuff for free.

The Al Gore thing (with Leonardo DiCaprio) made me laugh.

When Ellen Degeneres asked Stephen Spielberg to take her picture with Clint Eastwood, I laughed.

When Ellen Degeneres asked Martin Scorsese to read her screenplay, I laughed.

I think Ellen Degeneres should host the Oscars every year. She adds humor and warmth, and somehow humanizes the whole thing.

I liked the Sound Effects Choir.

That’s all.

2 days to Sedona...

3 Days to Sedona...

Click here for information.

There's got to be a religious joke in here somewhere.

Anyone want to take a stab at it?

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

I shoulda been a jazz guitarist...




I coulda been an airbrush artist...





I woulda run away with Riki, the British busboy from India Joze, but he just wasn't my cup of tea.

The way things aren't

On Friday I thought I saw a migrating crab on the New Jersey Turnpike, but it was just a red plastic bag.

PRAISE!

I want to take a moment on this BEAUTIFUL Saturday moning to THANK GOD... for coffee.

Really.

I appreciate it.

'Round Midnight

"What do you MEAN I have no new messages in my mailbox?!"

It warms me

I phoned an old friend this morning, she saw my name on the caller i.d., picked up the phone and softly said, "Hi Pumpkin."

I love when my girlfriends call me sweet names like that, I just love it.

Favorite Painting

Couple au Dessus de St. Paul

Marc Chagall

Lingo love

Annie to her friend Giselle: "Don't you just LOVE talking?"

Checkered Past

My brother Michael has been many things in his life including a delivery truck driver, an actor, and a New York City cabbie. Christopher Walken once got into Mike's cab. "I'm going to 125th Street!" he announced, "And I'm not afraid of speed!" Michael, never missing a beat, replied by slamming his foot on the gas and getting Walken to Harlem in record time.

Many nights my fearless brother would find himself in neighborhoods no man should be in, where his customers would reach their destinations, say that their wallets were upstairs, then offer to leave their shoes in the backseat as collateral.

When I was living in the city for a stint in my early twenties, Mike would phone me in the middle of the night. "Hey Sis!" he'd say, "Come ridin' with your big brother!" I'd stumble out of bed, throw on some clothes and find him outside on 86th Street, sitting behind the wheel with a big smile on his face, honking the horn and holding up a cup of coffee for me.

Mike and I would drive through the belly of the city and we'd drive all through the night. We'd stop for more coffee and make each other laugh, sometimes so hard he'd have to pull over.

It was a brief moment in our history, a slice of our family life, and everyone we picked up along the way seemed perplexed or delighted, but always amused by the New York City Cabbie who made his rounds with his little sister in tow.

In Man's Hands

I used to go to a Buddhist Center in Chelsea for their weekly community meditation, but following the sessions everyone would push past each other to get to the food table. It happened week after week and it disturbed me.

Now I mediate at home.

A quote for the moment

“When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago”

~Friedrich Nietzsche

Hair Today

This morning I had hair so long that it reached the middle of my back. I finally went for a trim and knew the stylist was right when she told me the ends were in bad shape. She said I could grow my hair as long as I liked, but if I also wanted it to be beautiful, we would first need to remove the ends and start again. She took off 3 inches, gave it a sexy swing and I left happy.

Part of me wanted to hold on to the length, ratty ends and all. It had become symbolic in a way, of a transformation from a self in which I was stuck, to a self that is becoming free. But it's still long, just healthier now, and able to grow even faster than before.

Thank You

To Reverend Shawn Ankenmann at Prairie Preacher for the most lovely comment on "The Half Note" I could ever hope to receive.

Click here to read.

A Whole Birthday for a Half Note!

What do you give a half note that has everything?


...A coat rack?



...A vacuum cleaner?



...A promotion?



A party?



Happy Birthday to "At the Half Note."

What a long, strange and wonderful year it's been.