There’s a building not far from my house that takes me back to December of 2004 each time I drive past. It’s not a good memory, but rather one that still gives me shivers eight and a half years later.
It’s the memory of a night I suddenly couldn’t remember what I was doing and freaked out as I tried to do my job.
We were close to finishing the first day of shooting for my short film, “We’re the Government — and You’re Not.” Even though I didn’t really know what I was doing, I was the writer and director, and I was sharing the producer duties. I honestly didn’t know until that day just how little I knew.
Even though the day had been a blur, things had generally gone well except for my car having a flat tire at the next-to-last shooting location of the day. (I rode around on the little “doughnut spare” all weekend because I didn’t have time to fix the tire.) I was waiting for one last prop to come in the mail. It was days late, but we thought it would be there. I ran to my house and it wasn’t there — and it was time to shoot the scene. I didn’t have a back-up plan.
My future plans are solid, but intuition says prepare for change
Nightmarish dreams mean dead can continue to play mind games
Dishonesty runs rampant when partisanship matters more than truth
2-day-old baby reminds me that miracles still happen every day
Do you want a company or do you just want to get something done?
For a culture where God is dead, spiritual emergence is madness
I don’t like most people in TV ads, but I can’t tell if it’s them or me
It took me years to feel the anger I’d repressed since childhood