Yesterday was not an easy day. I found it exhausting to get from bed to the kitchen for my morning coffee, in fact, I lay with Saucy snuggling an extra 45 minutes, crying over the loss of The Big Dog, and grateful that I spent time with her and still have my sweet little dog. Losing an animal may be the hardest thing. I’ve lost tons of friends, mostly to drug overdose and car accidents, but losing an animal comes as a total shock. One minute they are with us, the next they are not.
In 2007, I lost 8 friends to drugs or accidents, one jumping from a pier in Ocean Beach after a night of drinking, and just fucking around decided to go for a late night swim, drowning in the process. Two dear friends that were a bit more public, Hailey Paige and Chico Wang, both to drugs, pills, booze, unfortunate circumstances. So much sadness. I lost my grandfather on Christmas day, the end of the year, and Lunchbox in the beginning of the year, death starting at the young age of 8 months and going through people in my life until taking my Grandfather into his 80’s. And of all the people that have died, Lunchbox was the most difficult, and he had four legs. I suppose it’s because he was newest to the world. And closest to me. Or perhaps after his death I managed to dissociate from my own life due to the trauma, and therefor never actually processed the deaths of everyone else. I suppose that is something I’ll be working through with Jilly Beans at some point.
We buried the Big Dog in Duncan’s Malibu garden yesterday, a beautiful hillside looking over the ocean, she is home now and safe, which gives Duncan (and myself) a sense of peace. It’s amazing what burial can do to create closure. I never buried Lunch, just left him at the vet-terrified that to bury him would mean he’s actually dead whereas if I just left him there, for them to dispose, I could go on believing that he is not under ground, and quite possibly could have just walked his fuzzy little bottom out of the vet and into heaven. The thought of taking him in a bag or a box and burying him on some hillside wrecked me. But yesterday, watching Duncan say goodbye, and saying goodbye myself, I finally understood what the act of burying something means, and the closure that it provides.
So, big day today, researching directors I admire, authors, writers, I meeting with a very influential man and even if nothing comes of it, would like to be knowledgeable in the entertainment field so that we may have stimulating conversation. This is the first actual meeting in my adult life where I will not be asked to remove my clothes, or have cheap polaroids taken while I stand in front of a white wall. I don’t have to wear something skimpy, or slutty, I just have to know what I want to do with my life- which is fairly simple and straight forward.
I want to write and direct movies. I want to go to school so that I may learn the tricks of the trade, and while in school I’d like to start working as a production assistant so that I may climb my way up the entertainment ladder, from bottom to top. I’d like to co-write films with friends also in the business, produce and oversee movies or television shows. I’d like to have my hands so deep in the mainstream business from behind the camera that my elbows are dirty with grease from the commissary. I’d like to be bathed in film and look through the eyes of viewfinders, I’d like to create life in terms of darkness and light, to let cigarette smoke speak for characters, and create dialogue that adds depth to the people in my mind. I’d like to write and direct, and am willing to do everything it takes to make that happen.
And I’d like to paint along the way, just for shits and giggles.