When it rains...
Okay, so there's a film festival playing soon, and there are premieres of 3 films I'm in (one of which is my own), plus one more unassociated one on the Monday following. I'm so grateful to God and the filmmakers to have been part of these films and to sow seed into them (seed of time and talent and goodwill). Now to get something for which I'm paid. Up front _and_ residuals... I'm thinking God's telling me there's more to come. Thanks, God. Glory to You. :)
Monday, 24 September 2007
Friday, 21 September 2007
unnecessary roughness
I've been feeling a lot down recently and thinking about things of the past. Behaviors and such. Not good stuff. Things like learning to be very apologetic and try not to get in people's way because I don't want to call attention to myself. Why? In the beginning, it was because my skin color made me an object of negative judgement. Turns out that's still true, at least in my mind. And, be assured, people do still judge others based on outward appearances, including skin color, though that skin thing seems less prevalent, or at least better-concealed, than in the past.
It's interesting that one of the reasons I magnified my natural shyness is because of my color, and it's equally interesting that I sometimes feel like less of a worthy person for the same reason. I mean, it's not true, but sometimes the thought comes--sounds like a Satanic attack to me. You know, that little devil whispering "People hate you because you're" this or that. You learn to accept that lie as truth. Then, as I still am, you have to unlearn it and know the real truth: it doesn't matter who does or does not accept you. God does, and that's all that matters.
Another thought I had is that it's very interesting that such a shy person, one who has wanted to avoid contact with people and go hide in a cabin for months at a time, is the same one who wants to be a successful movie actor, which will make me to some extent a public figure. I doubt seriously that people will flock to me and mob me or anything, but I will get recognized. How will I handle that? I guess it's not that hard, because we all put on some sort of mask or at least a certain demeanor that lets us handle being in public more easily than we might otherwise.
Here's an honest question that's gonna sting some people, but please just take it as a question (It might even apply to someone other than me): why is it that, so often, the more we're around family the worse we feel about ourselves? Especially, why is that still so when we know, as I do, that our families love us? Maybe it's the difference between love and like. We may have people that we love but whom we don't like...thoughts, anyone?
It's interesting that one of the reasons I magnified my natural shyness is because of my color, and it's equally interesting that I sometimes feel like less of a worthy person for the same reason. I mean, it's not true, but sometimes the thought comes--sounds like a Satanic attack to me. You know, that little devil whispering "People hate you because you're" this or that. You learn to accept that lie as truth. Then, as I still am, you have to unlearn it and know the real truth: it doesn't matter who does or does not accept you. God does, and that's all that matters.
Another thought I had is that it's very interesting that such a shy person, one who has wanted to avoid contact with people and go hide in a cabin for months at a time, is the same one who wants to be a successful movie actor, which will make me to some extent a public figure. I doubt seriously that people will flock to me and mob me or anything, but I will get recognized. How will I handle that? I guess it's not that hard, because we all put on some sort of mask or at least a certain demeanor that lets us handle being in public more easily than we might otherwise.
Here's an honest question that's gonna sting some people, but please just take it as a question (It might even apply to someone other than me): why is it that, so often, the more we're around family the worse we feel about ourselves? Especially, why is that still so when we know, as I do, that our families love us? Maybe it's the difference between love and like. We may have people that we love but whom we don't like...thoughts, anyone?
Friday, 7 September 2007
beautiful woman...
Okay, so ever since I worked at one of my last jobs, there was this one lady who would come in who captivated me with her beauty--she's about ten or so years older than I, in shape, wore these beautiful dresses, had medium-length brown hair. I thought she was one of, if not _the_, sexiest woman in the town where I live. So I flirted with her. A lot. Well, a lot for me.
Cut to a couple of years and jobs later, and I find her in Barnes & Noble. More than once. Last week, I got up my get up and asked if she'd like to meet on purpose instead of by happenstance--it was my way of asking her for a coffee date. She said sure. So today I show up at the appointed time and talk to her in the coffee line--she and I are sitting in different places, so I ask if it's okay if I sit with her. She says fine, but she has headphones for a tutorial she's gonna listen to, but I'm welcome to share her table. So I do, and I sit and read while she sits and listens. At the end of that time and a bit of conversation later, as she is getting ready to go, I give her my phone number and e-mail address for if she'd like to contact me. She smiles and says, "Okay, but you know I'm married, right?"
Um...sure. Well, now I do. She didn't have a ring on her finger. Never did since I've known her (I checked before I started flirting). She's a drummer, uses her hands to do that, and so she keeps, she shows me, her wedding ring on her necklace.
Well, she was pretty gracious about it, and it's cool, she says, for us to hang out when she's in the coffee shop--
No real lesson here, but I do have another good anecdote for whenever I get interviewed.
It did help that an improbably sexy woman in tightish black pants and a yellow sports bra equivalent came and sat at the table just behind me. I think we almost made eye contact. Almost...;)
Cut to a couple of years and jobs later, and I find her in Barnes & Noble. More than once. Last week, I got up my get up and asked if she'd like to meet on purpose instead of by happenstance--it was my way of asking her for a coffee date. She said sure. So today I show up at the appointed time and talk to her in the coffee line--she and I are sitting in different places, so I ask if it's okay if I sit with her. She says fine, but she has headphones for a tutorial she's gonna listen to, but I'm welcome to share her table. So I do, and I sit and read while she sits and listens. At the end of that time and a bit of conversation later, as she is getting ready to go, I give her my phone number and e-mail address for if she'd like to contact me. She smiles and says, "Okay, but you know I'm married, right?"
Um...sure. Well, now I do. She didn't have a ring on her finger. Never did since I've known her (I checked before I started flirting). She's a drummer, uses her hands to do that, and so she keeps, she shows me, her wedding ring on her necklace.
Well, she was pretty gracious about it, and it's cool, she says, for us to hang out when she's in the coffee shop--
No real lesson here, but I do have another good anecdote for whenever I get interviewed.
It did help that an improbably sexy woman in tightish black pants and a yellow sports bra equivalent came and sat at the table just behind me. I think we almost made eye contact. Almost...;)
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