The Cubs in Clemson

The Cubs are playing in Clemson tonight at The Blue Heron. If you're around, or not-please come. Check out press. Press. Press. Press.

8-8-07

Film just wrapped. It was a rough and amazing experience. Challenging to me in all areas, especially due to my lack of experience-for the first time during the long 4 week shoot the boom pole was in the shot. The look on the director's face and his impatience and disgust with the occurence killed me beyond words. Never mind that in the three weeks prior there had been no trouble whatsoever with the boom in the shot. This one time. At the same time, though, the director of photography looked over at me with understanding-sympathy, I'm sure. He helped me out, told me where I could put the mike when it was blocked by the car entering frame(once again, in my defense, it was an incredibly complicated shot to boom-I would've wired the actors, even the actors said they should have been wired-but I don't make that decision), and nodded to me as if to say, "I know, man. I know." He'd been through so much more shit than I had over the shoot-arguments and criticism from actors, assistant directors, the director, the producer, most everyone He knew what it was like to feel a superior's displeasure. It helped my morale to know he was in my corner, even though we probably said two words to each other the entire shoot.

7-7-07

New moleskine after my first and very near-full one was stolen. Make a note. Always keep doors to truck locked. You never know who might want to steal a bag full of library books, school notes, and gum wrappers. I hope whoever took it is enjoying the musings of Robert Roberts on life in Britain's classic slum, as well as the thoughts and little snippets of dialogue and stories by yours truly.

Talking to Jacob today, I was struck with just how much I love myself more than I love others. I'd rather sit in my room and watch movies rather then engage others. It's been this way for a while. My prayer life sucks. My thought life sucks even harder. I give in to the tiniest lustful thought, eager for immediate, momentary pleasure, and I forget-or don't choose to acknowledge-the amazing blessings God has put in my life these past few years. Few months. Few weeks. Both bands are plugging along. I start work on a feature independent film in a week and I have friends and family whom I love and who love me and who I'm sure act with bewilderment at my rough words and sulky demeanor. How am I lifting them up, encouraging them, weeping with them, giving a shit about them? My sinful heart teels me that my comfort comes first, I'm secure in my stalwart, quiet, brooding self. I'm ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.