the awesome/terrifying freedom

six feet under has been the new 'angels in america,' the new gold standard, a pinnacle in the art of television production (and thank you hbo for elevating television to a true art form). i've rarely been so moved. it ended with enough hope to offset the past two years of turmoil. and the final sequence was perfect - not a premonition, or a certainty, but a hope. or maybe it was a certainty - either way, extremely hopeful. and the scene between ruth and claire was the centerpiece of the finale, so stunningly executed. life is so short. before i know it, i'll feel my body start to fall apart, amazed that despite still feeling 24, my body can't keep up..



it's got me tempted to drive away myself. go somewhere else, do something else. we are filled with such potential, so much possiblity for greatness. i feel it in me sometimes and i doubt myself so much that i can feel my own gifts being squashed. why do i not choose to be great more often? because that's all it really is, isn't it? you just have to decide 'this will be the best thing i've ever done,' and if you can really truly make that decision, then that's what it'll be.

i want to create work that can stand with six feet under. i want to write/direct/make things that probe as deeply, that explore what it means to be human, that don't sugar coat, to craft something with exquisite detail, to remember my sense of humor, to find myself, who i really am, what i was meant to do, and to be the best version of myself that i can be.



i went to a wedding this weekend for my old friend O'rya, who i haven't seen in probably nine or ten years. and it was a reunion with many other junior high friends - 5 of the original 9 'basement cryers,' as we jokingly refer to ourselves.

8th or 9th grade.. i'm fuzzy now.. it happened on the way home from a trip to 'elitch's' (the big denver amusement park) at about 10pm in the back of (was it o'rya's family's car?).. i don't remember how the conversation became so dark, but during the trip we started talking about our lives, and one by one we confessed our secrets, our dramas, our problems - it was total breakfast club. after that night, we were changed. we walked through the halls with all of each other's secrets, and we'd all shared equally, so we knew we were safe. we would meet in jennifer hausle's basement several times after, and confess, cry, let go. yeah, it was pretty weird. i remember having anxiety that i wouldn't be able to cry when it came to be my turn, which is kind of fucked up, but what came out of it were the closest friends of my life.

i'd nearly forgotten about it until o'rya brought it up at the wedding. it was so deeply personal that we laugh about it now, like we were emotionally unstable children (which we were), but at the time, it was the most important thing in my life. i'm not sure who i might be if i hadn't had that outlet. have you seen 'heavenly creatures?' those two girls, that obsessively creative bond they shared - that was it. we didn't commit murder, though. we stopped at basement crying.

really, anyone i've ever cried with is pretty much part of this group. once you cry with someone, once you really share where you are, what you fear, and what you want - the bond with that person is never the same.

and the wedding was stunning. it felt like a merchant ivory movie.

well, at least until we were at the end of a dock at 3am while the bride's mother held the wedding dress so the bride could jump naked off the dock with the rest of the wedding party.

fantastic.

















what is a wedding about really? is a wedding about the people getting married, or is it about the people around you, who you can bring together? i want to get married, absolutely. maybe not legally, yet, and certainly not extravagantly, but hell, when i meet that guy, you can bet i'm gonna want a big party, and i want all the friends, the basement cryers, everyone, to be there for it.