W2 - Wendy to the Second Power

While at the HWC, I, along with the ballroomful of attendees on the first day of the conference, was blown away by the opening ceremonies. The Kanaka'ole family (grandmother, daughter, grandson) did an incredible opening chant and dance, then Kaumakaiwa, the grandson, sort of emcee'd the rest of the event. The whole family is composed of scholars, PhDs, experts in Hawaiian myth, and they've taught a Pele-oriented form of hula for the past 400 years. This is during the time when (white male settlers from America made it so) doing so was illegal. They also did a presentation about their chants and songs the following day that I really enjoyed.

Kaumakaiwa ("Lopako") has a very feminine side to him, sort of flamboyant and swishy, but so cute as he talks and giggles. His hulas were also very graceful and feminine even though he's almost six feet tall. Then his soaring songs just tear your heart out with the emotion in them, but his chants are very visceral and guttural. Fascinating! Here he is talking about how/why he writes songs. Here's his record label page with a nice musical clip from him. I talked with him about the Mythic Journeys, Joseph Campell conferences (which, alas, seem no more), which is part of his background too. So I got the handshake when I greeted him, but then after talking, I got the full body hug with the nose rub --!

They also brought in the fabulous guitarist Makana, who's buddies with Lopako, so they sang/played and Welo danced. Makana was ranked one of the top 3 guitarists in the world, and his melodies on the slack string guitar often mimic the rain or the natural environment around him. He was GREAT! He also had percussion and bass guitar, with a well-known female hula dancer who traveled with him. The combination of guitar/strings and unusual percussion was very stirring -- reminded me a LOT of going to a Clandestine performance. That same sublime blending of tones and melody that can often make you weep.

Even the long-time Hawaiian residents were blown away and crying. They told me THIS was the authentic dance and music, and going to a pre-fab luau was nothing like this. Everybody talked about it for days.

Then they brought out the famous Hawaiian slam poet, Kealoha, aka Steven Wong. He had some interesting pieces that he performed somewhat acrobatically. I get bored with slam poetry easily (it seems like meaning and word play is subsumed to rhythm too often) but this guy was a great example of the good stuff. He seemed like a thin, young guy with his long flowing hair too. But reading about him and seeing him close-up later, he's probably in his early to mid-30s, and has a degree in nuclear physics from MIT. Plus he taught surfing for a while and must have some muscles under that too-large t-shirt he wore...

The Hawaii Writers Conference started early Friday morning, with incredible Hawaiian artists and scholars chanting, singing and dancing. Whoa! Very powerful, and I found that Kaumakaiwa and his family are from the Big Island and their chants and hulas are based on Pele and volcano-creation and lava, so are unusually visceral and powerful...!

Michael Arndt, screenwriter of LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE, did an incredible two-part course on movie endings: The Good, the Bad, the Insanely Great. He had clips and a really good analysis of warring value systems on three levels.

Liked hearing from Steve Fischer, a literary and Hollywood agent, and his perspective about what's going on in publishing and the movie biz. Long story short: Hollywood is offering low-ball deals and not honoring the "rates" that writers have worked themselves up to. It's like taking a big cut in salary now. Yeah, greedy.

Also went to lunch with screenwriter Diane Lake (FRIDA) who took me to task about what I had done or finished or promoted since last August in Cape Cod. She's very generously taken me on as a mentee --! I'll report to her, get advice... I had 4 ideas in my head, 2 scripts (from Margaret South's replotting), the supernatural mystery I began to enter the HWC contest, and a novel I'd started 5 years ago that had Hawaiian Kahuna magic in it. That last thing has gotten re-invigorated by being here, and also makes me wonder... So many times I've written a piece of fiction with a key element in it, only to have that element show up in my life powerfully within a few years. Hmmmm. More on that as I ponder! But Diane said to write the supernatural mystery RIGHT NOW because it has such market potential. And not to tell my pitch to too many people because it's so good. Yay! And useful to have one of the four ideas prioritized based on market stuff she knows better than me. Again, yay!

Today, just a final half-day and then I plan to take a tour to the north island side, and see Dole pineapples in the field too. Then back to the mainland and then to Austin by crack of dawn tomorrow.

So this morning I rendezvoused with NC, who is a long-time water baby, and went with her to her special nook at City Park, aka Emma Long Metro Park. This is a 10-15 mimute drive out of Austin where you can find balmy breezes and chilly lake water despite the 100+ degree days. I hadn't been swimming since the fun at Julie's lake last June, so it was nice! Crowded with hotdogging boaters and jet skis, but refreshing water and a sandy shoal.

My goal was to get some sun, albeit under layers of SPC 30 sun block, and get used to my snorkel gear. I did successfully get sun (we were out from 11am to 2:30 pm, but I was reading in the shady grass when I wasn't in the water) and yet didn't get a burn. Perfect! And then NC had to talk me through my strong claustrophobic aversion to putting on a dive mask and breathing through a snorkel. Even though my mask has prescription lenses so I can see, oooh, I hate that stuff all up and around my face. I got to the point where I was floating, paddling, face down, breathing (panting!) through the snorkel. I realize it's all in my head, and am counting on what the trainers say, that you get used to the mouth breathing and mask after about 5 minutes. The Lake Austin water was green and murky, but when I get to Hawaii in August, I'm planning to get lots of time looking at tropical fish and reefs.

Tonight it's a monthly Dream Study meeting, so I'll get my spiritual fix from that. Tomorrow is mostly about novel writing and reading screenplays down at Austin Film Festival. Plus deciding Y/N on going downtown with friends for the fireworks. It's hot hot hot here, so that's hard to get enthusiasm for...

http://www.archive.org/details/Sita_Sings_the_Blues

That URL gives you a listing of the several formats in which this FREE - Creative Commons Licensed - FREE animation is available for download. Nina Paley, the creator, makes a big thing about how/why her work is free, while she used creative works (songs, mostly) that are not. And how she throws herself upon the generosity of the IntarWebs for income from this work that took years of her life ... So that idea of a creator's works being worth $0 and .00 kinda makes me uneasy...

But the movie itself is charming! Wonderful animation! And what seems to be a respectful yet entertaining extrapolation of "the other" for richness and resonance. I know that's a LJ hot button discussion right now. Paley gives her expert commentators (POC, or people of color) on Indian/Hindu culture a direct voice, in fact. They're the shadow puppet characters squabbling over details and names -- with entertaining but informative results. I love how the animation styles evolve and make a visual mash-up, while I believe still respecting the POC origins of the story. Like a Bettie Boop influenced Sita...

It's the story of an American woman whose husband moves away to India and slowly, coldly dumps her, juxtaposed with the Indian epic, "Ramayana," the story of Sita and Rama. And the music is also awesome!

The buzz is that this is a shoe-in for best animated feature in 2009...

This is the 2009 Yahoo astrology horoscope for Taurus. Me like-y!


Year 2009 Overview

It's time to celebrate yourself, Taurus! You are pouring yourself into your life's mission and rejuvenating yourself with abundant thinking, which attracts great things to you. You're diligently creating a public arena where opportunities will emerge for you to be a teacher or messenger. Engagements for speaking, writing and sharing your thoughts will open up. Other people will be inspired by your enthusiasm and insight, and will support you in accomplishing your goals.

Taurus's excitement radiates more than ever this year, bringing with it a magnificent energy the world has been lacking. As you embrace the power of your heart and spirit, you are allowing yourself to transform and align with a universal energy source. You discover the space for your creativity to flow and abundantly bring the truth of your being into the world. Your focus on your connection with a higher purpose brings out the best in you and refines your self-expression.

You appreciate all the expansive shifts that are taking place in your life, and you are learning to break up routines and old patterns of rigidity. This allows you a new level of awareness and acceptance of your ultimate purpose. Pay attention to what has heart and meaning. Express your truth and you will advance. You will find avenues to bring your talents and belief systems to philanthropic endeavors. By the end of the year, you will be able to slow down a bit and find more time to enjoy the new you that you have created.

This was a dream I had last night, very detailed and odd. I dreamed that I, along with a group of progressive politics people of all ages and colors, had been chosen for a week-long (?) intensive workshop with the new administration. We were all jazzed and happy, about the results of the election and about being chosen for community leadership.

The weird part was we stayed in the White House with the Obamas. Like one big house, where you could (and I did) run into Barack coming out of the bathroom. We just had to make close friends because you were all up in each other's space.

But we did fun stuff too. People talked about walking to a theater event, and it turned out (in the dream reality) it was run by a woman I'd met through screenwriting. So a group of us reserved seats and I made introductions to the theater director, very cool plus good networking.

And then the two weird things as the dream ended. Michelle Obama has always seemed down-to-earth but very directed, as you would expect a black woman and successful lawyer to be. In my dream, she had also taken it upon herself to give each of us participants an analysis of our personality flaws. At least that's what happened the first night. I saw her head to head (literally, faces touching) with another workshopper as we were calling it a night. I was nonplussed when she came to me, wrapped her arms around my head and drew me close, telling me briskly, "so what happens now is we touch noses, it's our custom." Then she gave me a general pat on the back and then zinged me. Something like:

"You're a wonderful asset to this group and the country. We value your experience and commitment. For you, try not to be enthusiastic about everything. It's good to support your fellow workshoppers but acting as though everyone's project is fascinating is a little much. Just be yourself."

Uh, okay. That's what I said in my dream. I thought several things: who are you to judge? then: you're one of the most powerful women in the world, that's who! then: I guess I signed up for this part of it by coming here. then: but how about I give you a 30-second personal analysis?

Weird. Then at the very end, I was shown a map of the White House and environs by a coordinator person, where my bunk room was, and then he pointed and said: "And you are to defecate in the garage bathroom."

I guess the turn-of-the-century plumbing needed accommodation?

Friday night I drove to the Austin Film Festival venue by my home -- the Arbor Theater -- for a somewhat sparsely attended showing of the new, shocking, Mike Leigh film, HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. Shocking not for its content -- which is sort of meandering and small, intimate scale -- but because this English director known for his bleak, raw films made one that is, in his own words, "anti-miserabilist."

This film doesn't even look like a Mike Leigh film -- and the UK Telegraph article confirms that he used a wide lens on this with a film stock that saturated the colors, appropriate because Poppy, the main character, winsomely played by Sally Hawkins, is a primary school teacher in North London and a woman unafraid of mixing strong colors and wild pattern. Leigh also said in the article that he wrote the movie so at first you're a little annoyed at the bubbly, upbeat character and her reactions. She is one of those people -- we have them in the States too -- who burble on about every little thing, repeating corny jokes, laughing & silly. What happens in the film is not so much a plot, with structure like they demand for American movies, but a 2-hour character study that makes you look deeper at Poppy, and at the people in her world (mostly because she does, when she recognizes their pain), and in an intellectual way figure out how hard it is to be happy (almost) all the time, and how this one person seems to do it.

I confess that as we were closing on the end, I realized I wasn't really going to get any kind of catharsis via the character arc. Since I'd just come from panels with Danny Boyle (Irish director of SHALLOW GRAVE, 28 DAYS, SUNSHINE...) where he talked about the British film industry being worked by a very different mindset than America's and why/how filmmakers made films, I was able to realize this movie proved Boyle's point. But an intellectual realization is certainly less fun and satisfying than an emotional catharsis. I suspect American word-of-mouth on the movie will ensure it gets a small audience, dang it.

Sally Hawkins played an endearing Anne Elliott in the recent PBS Jane Austen series (MANSFIELD PARK). For the part of Poppy, she's won at least one best actress award. As she stomps around London in her scrawny, pigeon-toed way, wearing the boots that infuriate her driving instructor through most of the movie, she does leave an indelible impresssion. By the end, there's not a lot to go on, but I think we've been given enough clues to say that Poppy is driven by a higher power to help others, even scary tramps and raging driving instructors. As an offshoot of that destiny, her own superpower is to not dwell on the dark or stew about her worries, but see the light and happy side of life almost 100% of the time. For me, the movie is about the viewer coming to understand this character. In the process you sort of fall in love with her.

Friday night was fun! martang got folks together for a dinner at the delicious Brazilian restaurant in N. Austin, Sampaio's. Oh, those delicious little wheat-free, rice-bread yeast rolls were as good as I remembered! With my allergies, eating bread in a restaurant is a rare event, so got one whole order of them to myself. Ah, cheesy deliciousness! We missed jipp, but it was fun to see willyumtx again and Jeffles and his (now) wife Sarah, she whom I hadn't seen since the Easter-egg/Engagement party in April of last year. There was a dish on the menu, grilled pork rolled in coffee, with a red cherry reduction sauce, that had intrigued me when I was there before. This time, Marty, William and I all three got it! And... it was only okay. The guys loved theirs, but I felt like I was eating overcooked meat crusty with coffee grounds. Not a primo experience. My next time, I'll stick with their fish dishes.

Left that dinner and was a little late for my dream-study group. A good gathering, the closest thing I do to going to church. One of my buddies there had a dream the very night he learned about a tragedy. His ill and manic/depressive older brother had committed suicide 10 days earlier and they'd only just located family to tell them. My friend dreamed his brother was younger, with two strong hips (multiple hip replacements had made him disabled), walking along a narrow wall away from my friend, with wonderful balance, and he'd turned back enough to grin broadly in goodbye. Very poignant! ( Read More... )

The crappy treatment from Armadilocon* spurred me to find something else to do then. I was delighted to find an event up in the cool Northeast by the sea by Googling for writers' workshops in August. See how things work out for the best! Since I'm not so miffed anymore, I'll even see if the con wants to use me on programming on Saturday -- since Sunday morning I'll be flying out. If they've already booked their programming, no biggie.

*Got a warm, reaching-out-type of email from JohnG with ArmadilloCon, and want to state publicly that he's a great guy. Several people w/FACT are great. This year they allowed or encouraged people who aren't so great to run things in a crappy way however.

As promised, details on last weekend's symposium on The Art of Writing, a public program of Pacifica Graduate Institute in Santa Barbara, Calif. The first night was a keynote speech* by John Cleese, the tall dark Monty Python with the funny walk, the Black Knight ("It's just a flesh wound!"), the creator and star of Fawlty Towers, Nearly Headless Nick, nominated for an Academy Award for the screenplay of A FISH CALLED WANDA, Q, Shrek's father-in-law, etc.

Cleese somehow arranged for an earthquake to shake us up just before he came out to do the keynote! Then he talked for two hours. *Not really a speech, he waited for us to ask him questions and then he'd be fascinating and knowledgeable and yet humble as he discussed the answers. The funny behavior involved the microphones placed around the auditorium. Though we had three of those, he'd often ask (only women, mind you) to "speak into my lapel mic, dear" so everyone could hear the question. That behavior led to him looming over me, in the 2nd row, so that a woman in the 3rd row could yell into his chest. Ha! I didn't take notes at the time (too fascinated) but made notes later about what I remembered.

( Read More... )