The Results Please... PLEASE!!!

Despicably, today I've effectively bitten all of the nails off of the fingers of my right hand (not quite to the nubs but still) and eaten my 2-day's share of  mint chocolate chip ice cream.  I've been anxiously awaiting the results of Austin Film Festival's Screenplay Competition.  I entered my script, Lady Cowboys, into the competition back in June and the letters of joy and dread are FINALLY landing in mailboxes across the country this week.  As the "Tweets" come through, reporting how other's have fared (California letters have a farther distance to travel, I imagine),  I am trying to hold true to the belief that "no news is good news."  But, honestly, at this point, no news is just making my hair gray, my fingers bald and my belly bulge.

I want to believe that either way, JUST KNOWING will put me out of this misery.  There were a 6,500 entrants this year so, just having entered is something to be proud of... blah, blah, blah... I want this.  The script is a good one.  It's time.  Stay tuned.  I hope to be telling you soon that I...

(PS-If you aren't already, follow me on Twitter quick updates... @SSSOnscreen)

Onward and Upward...

Thank you Jenifer A. Lewis...

 

"' HOLD THE LINE!'  That's one of the first lines Russell Crowe's (@russellcrowe) character says to his men in Gladiator.  'HOLD THE LINE!'  You might see the arrows coming at you... you might feel like you are on the battlefield alone.  But you (Black Screenwriter) have got to HOLD THE LINE because we (Black Actors/Hollywood) need you!  Too many meople quit just before they make it to the other side.  And that is the difference between successful screenwriters and the next door neighbors.  So..."

She holds me by both shoulders, looks me in my eye...

"Hold the line, and I'll see you on the other side."

We hug and she walks away and I am changed forever. *sigh*

That's either the way my memory serves me or my poetically licensed version of my stolen moment with one of my long-time fave actresses Jenifer Lewis at the 2007 American Black Film Festival in Los Angeles, just after her brief talk following the screening of the film REDRUM (writers: Carl Seaton, Kenny Young; Director Kenny Young).

I write because there would be a part of me that would die a slow death if I didn't.  I write because I always have.  I write because I feel brave and special when I do it.  I write because what I have to say is worth the telling and it helps to change the world one telling at a time. 

Thank you, Jenifer Lewis.  I'm still climbing...

Be Presents... It's a Gift!

Got up late this morning to my toddler tugging at my tummy.  "Belly, please," he whines for his morning sanctum, laying belly-to-belly just before the light of morning fully fills his eyes.  I am old and tired and runnin through the day's To Do list in my mind while he is young and squirmy only wanting this moment. 

Life Lesson #3462... Be present and grateful.  There will come a day when he won't want this. 

We hug and smile, and the day begins.

In this moment, I'm at a coffeeshop.  (Quick aside: if you have an extra $1.75, buy a stranger a cup of coffee.  It changes the possibilities of the day for everyone involved.)  I found an article on Squidoo by "Missy" (LissaKlar) about being over 40 and pregnant.  Good writing and I thought I'd share. http://www.squidoo.com/pregnantover40

The Old Mama's Club

The impetus for my current short film project, Curdled, came from the acknowledgement that three years ago, I became a member of the "old mama's" club a.k.a., the "geriatric mom's" club, a.k.a., the "what-were-you-thinking?" club; a coveted membership for women who've hit 35 and haven't yet "procreated," and a dreaded one for those who thought the missed period was perimenopause.

I laughingly talk with other members of this club about what it means to be figuring out how to manage the new aches and pains of our 35+ or 40-something bodies... with a baby growing in us.  Or chasing toddlers.  And how different it feels from being 26 or 28 and pregnant, the ages of my first 2 pregnancies.

In her article, "Being an Older Mom," Mary Weidler gives her humorous take on the differences.  I've pasted them below for your enjoyment.  Go to the article in its entirety in Disney's Baby Zone.

Enjoy! 

Excerpt from "Being an Older Mom" by Mary Weidler
...It's easy to tell the difference between the young moms (those that are often mistaken for their child's big sister) and we of the slightly older persuasion. If you're not quite sure, check out these tell-tale signs:

• A young mom chooses her baby's name sentimentally, poring over name books, discussing selections with family and friends, and learning the meaning of every one of her choices before settling on one that fits her family, style, and last name. (Think Alexandria)
• An old mom chooses her child name practically, by length; the shorter the name, the easier it will be to teach the child to print it. (Think Al)
• A young mom demonstrates herkie jumps at the Pee Wee football league cheerleading tryouts without breaking a sweat.
• An old mom sits in the sweaty storage room and counts pom poms ... and still has to have her feet rubbed afterwards.
• A young mom arrives to pick up her son at preschool sporting the latest Jennifer Aniston hairdo and wearing a color-coordinated capris-and-crop top outfit.
• An old mom picks up her son at preschool wearing a tie-dye t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and Keds without socks. Her hair has no style, but there is some toothpaste right in front near the grays.
• A young mom leaves her kids at the sitter so she can have a dinner-and-dancing date with her spouse.
• An old mom leaves her kids at the sitter so she can take a nap.
• An old mom had her first child in the '80s.
• A young mom was born in the '80s...

Of course, there are benefits to being an older mom. We may not have the energy to run the kids from place to place, but sometimes slowing down to blow pufferballs or read Green Eggs and Ham for the 57th times does bring its own special joy. (And we older moms are the very best for reading to our little ones. Our laps are bigger and more worn-in!)"

And, after all, there is a fate worse than being an old mom. I was reminded of this when I tried talking to a "like soul" at my son's roller skating party. She looked to be about my age; her hair was a bit grayer and her mannerisms more relaxed. As a pair of new moms rollerbladed by, I whispered to her, "Oh, well, I guess us old moms just can't keep up."
"You think you got it bad?" my co-conspirator replied. "I have it worse."
"What could be worse than being an old mom?" I asked.
She smiled. "I'm a young grandmom."

And the dialogue begins...

It’s 5AM and my nerves have been bad since yesterday’s launch of my Indiegogo.com campaign for my short film project, CURDLED.  I followed the “Campaign Tips” and inundated FB with news of the launch, along with private messages to friends via text, email, whatever would get it out.  (Indiegogo says nearly 30% of what funds I do raise will come from friends and fam, so…)  I get it.  Times are tough.  And I imagine people vacillating like, “Eat…or donate?  Eat, or donate?  EAT!”  But, if I didn’t ask, my indecision would sound something like, “Fulfill a dream… or, wallow in regret?  Fulfill, or wallow?  Fulfill?  Wallow?"  You get my drift.  So, it is going down!  Worst case scenario, the project raises 30% and moves forward from there.  Best case, it succeeds in raising the goal and we move forward from there.  The point is… the project is moving forward and THAT is what matters. 

With each passing day, I realize the necessity of the story.  There is something completely validating about seeing/hearing your experience reflect through someone else’s telling.  Below, I pasted a recent email that I received from a singer/songwriter friend who read my CURDLED script and was moved to write to me.  She, too, is a “later-in-life” mom who had a very similar pregnancy experience to mine (not the home birth, midwife part, but the emotions and hospital visits).  I’ve edited it down but I didn’t want to take away from her narrative, conversational style so bear with the length.  I am grateful for her story and I encourage YOU, dear reader, to share yours here, or in some other meaningful space.  It’s a dialogue long overdue.  ENJOY!

HERE'S THE EMAIL

Shia,

… What an interesting theme, mom's over 40. You know I had Jazz when I was 41. I turned 42 a month later. Going into my pregnancy, I had no thoughts or preconceived notions about my age being a factor. I was just excited. I didn't think OMG I'm so old and at risk. I didn't even know I was pregnant for over a month. I'd thought that I'd just had jet lag, because I'd returned from a Euro Tour. I was kinda tired. Then, after a month or so, my dresses didn't fit right. Also, there was the absence of my "moon" for almost 2 months. I thought I was going through menopause…

…it finally occurred to me that I might be pregnant.  [My husband] and I were doing our post tour “relax and regenerate” trip up the coast.  We picked up a home pregnancy test in Cambria, and used it when we got to Big Sur.  Upon discovery we were elated.  I decided to call an OBGYN at Cedars …thinking well, this ought to be the best care, right?  Cedars is top of the line.  I was completely ignorant of everything with regards to pregnancy… pretty much functioning off of what society had presented via films and TV, as well as just hearsay and rumor; The general consensus being that you go to a hospital because doctors know best.

I enlisted a well-known [doctor].  I very excitedly went to Cedars for my check-ups. Rushing over the hill to be on time, sweating the cash to pay for expensive parking, only to wait in a waiting room, pee in a cup that I passed through a small door in the bathroom wall, more waiting, finally meeting with the doctor, who was very brief.  I'd leave the office feeling sort of let down... 

…In the next few Doctor's office visits came the questions about tests and how I should take them due to my age.  Then I started to question the questions.  First of all, I didn't feel old until they started telling me I was.  And then I still didn't feel old.  I said no to everything.  I refused the Amniocentesis [and others, and] I started to read about all this stuff they were talking about.  All these tests that don't guarantee anything but had extremely high risks.  And, would I abort my baby because their test may have detected something?  It all just felt so clinical, as though pregnant women had an illness or condition… Instead of a healthy respect for women, bearers of the miracle of life and for the human body, which has known how to do this since the beginning of humanity.  Babies come from God, Jah, Allah… not doctors.  When one encounters a pregnant woman, one ought to bow down before this miracle. 

So all of my questioning seemed to create a bit of tension with the doctor, as though I was challenging the system.  And I was.  I was becoming a parent before the baby was born.  I wanted to know is this stuff safe and I wasn’t getting answers that put me at ease.  The last straw was this.  I'd been gigging, doing shows like crazy and feeling great.  I wasn't sitting around eating bon bons, still taking my walks of a mile or two.  My belly shot out like a cannon and my butt spread like cream cheese.  My ankles were not swollen.  I was still light on my feet on stage and I was super happy. But, in an appointment with the doctor, around 4 months or so, she weighed me and told me to, “lay off the ice cream.”  I was furious.  I wanted to say, “Bitch, I don't eat ice cream. You don't know me!.... Kiss my big...“  Well, you get the idea.  I was upset.  And that was the end of that.  I went into that office that day, floating on a cloud, in my high heels and my stretchy, one shoulder mini dress.  I felt pretty.  When I left, I felt awful.   

This was not how I wanted my experience to be.  And I'd already been avoiding anyone who came to me with negativity.  Ya know, everyone wants to tell you some awful story when they see that you’re pregnant.  Anyway, I fired the Doctor. 

I'd been doing some reading and watching films of home births.  They were some of the most natural, beautiful things I'd ever seen. I spoke to [my husband] about the idea of home birth. We were in agreement. I located a mid-wife; an elderly lady who'd been catching babies for a long time. She'd even been to jail on several occasions as she fought for the right to legalize home births. She had a wonderful, groovy little sweet smelling office in Calabassas… where I asked her a million questions [and] she answered with grace and kindness.  {From her library] I read and read and read about the history of child birth in the country and it was a rude awakening.  She told me to learn as much as I could, but in the end, to follow my instincts because that’s what they're for…  

…My point is that this mindset that women over 40 having babies are at risk, is based on some information that keeps getting repeated, just because that what’s been said.  Just like the procedures that keep being done, because that’s what’s been done; like vaccinations and circumcision.  When you uncover the history of childbirth in the U.S. and why things are done the way they are, you start to wonder why everyone is going along with it.  My mid-wife never mentioned my age.  It just wasn’t a factor. 

Women have been successfully having babies at 40 and over for a long time. I don't recommend that women wait till then, but I certainly wouldn't tell them to freak out if they find themselves pregnant. The fact that you're growing a baby inside you should be sign enough… Life just keeps going on, no matter how human beings try to muck it up… 

…I believe that a pregnant woman should do whatever makes her comfortable. That’s the bottom line. But I would love to see women take back their power in this area of life that solely belongs to them. And have faith in their ability to know what they need. The entire earth and all of its cycles mimic those of the female body. The more we look outside of ourselves to remedy our natural processes as though they do not matter, the more we lose touch with our power and purpose.  No, not all of us are meant to bear children, yet we have our roles to play within our sector of humanity… 

I'd better go to bed. I hope that my ramblings were interesting to you and relevant. I am very excited about your "Curdled" venture, your positive spirit and your art. I look forward to hearing more about your creations...

Thanks for reading, y’all.  Onward and upward…

Always Love…

 

We're Having a baby... A FILM BABY, that is!

Curdled Campaign

The indiegogo.com site for my short-file-to-be, Curdled, launched today.  (WooooHoooo!)  It even got it's first contribution within an hour.  (*Proud parent sigh*)  So, if you haven't already, check it out at http://www.indiegogo.com/curdled?show_todos=true&a=1001113.  SIDE NOTE: Seeing myself on film makes me wanna hurl somewhere not-so-deep inside.  I don't know how actors do it.  Don't let it disturb you, though.  Every nickel and every prayer are much appreciated.

Since we last "talked," I had a table reading of Curdled at my house which let me know what was working in the script and what wasn't.  I have also been hard at work, making sure that this production goes off without a hitch.  (Is that even possible?)  Oh, AND... I was approached to write a proposal for another film opportunity that I can't tell you about yet.  (When the proposal is approved, you'll be the first... no, FIFTH to know.  Just keeping it "one-hundred.")  But keep all of this goodness and possibility in a positive light for me.

Alrightly then.  I'm keepin' it sweet today.  The coffee shop is closing, I have an appointment and miles to go, 'fore I sleep.  Over the next several weeks, I will be behind the scenes where I belong, working the kinks out to finalize the script.  Here's to the wonderful, nail-biting journey of making a short.  CHEERS!

The Road to Production is Paved with Good Intentions

Outside the guided “film school” realm, this process of making a film is completely nerve-racking to say the least.   People are in one day, and out the next.  Locations change.  And, since I’m not backed by some major studio or production company  (or minor ones for that matter), there’s the fund raising aspect, which is the most terrifying part.  It’s one of those awkward spaces where you know the project is a good one, and that your intentions are good.  But you have to constantly sell people on the idea, make them have faith in you; the period of the incessant pitch.  (At times I feel like the only thing missing is a pair of shiny, black patent leather tap shoes.)  But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.  So, I keep telling myself to #getoverit. 

I started to realize that my procrastination around making an indiegogo.com campaign video has to do with my ambivalence about putting myself on film.  (Funny thing is, 20 years ago, there wasn’t a still or video camera that I didn’t want to jump in front of.)  Public speaking is cool but having to watch myself do it… not so cool.  (Get over it!)

So, I pulled out my very old but working Sony Hi-8 video camera and positioned it around my house, in our front yard, at my desk, in my car; all in an effort to find the perfect backdrop.  Hated every shot.  Then, I pulled out my handy Canon point-and-shoot, clicked it to the video setting and thought maybe the clearer digital video might resolve the problem.  Didn’t like that either.  And they really might have been okay shots.  I just kept criticizing myself.  I know it’s not about “me,” per se.  But, the last thing I want to do is post a video that doesn’t exude the absolute excitement I have about realizing this project.  Maybe it has to do with my control issues.  Just because I CAN do it doesn’t mean I have to be the one to do it, right?

So, I posted an ad on craigslist.org to find a competent filmmaker to shoot the short interview video and found recent film school grad, Jordan Anonuevo (@mrjza)..   We had great energy over Peet's tea.  He had just the right concepts and direction that I needed to feel confident and effectively communicate my project and intentions, without apprehension or angst.  

Jordan and I are working toward a Wednesday shoot, as in tomorrow, to complete the 2-3 minute indiegogo vid.  Perfecting the script.  Working out the perks.  Making a shot list.  I’m feeling energized again and that’s a great feeling; kinda like the kid who anxiously sells lemonade to raise money for the paint set in the craft store window.  Even further, having Jordan on my team also makes the process less lonely.  He’s extremely knowledgeable about the production process and has great ideas.   He’s onboard and I’m finally over it.

Onward and upward… for real!