I just got back from seeing Paul McCartney at the Qwest center in Omaha. Wow! What an experience. I actually got paid to see Paul McCartney perform, I was working with his organization Music Lives, you can check it out at Musiclives.org.

Pretty frickin cool if you ask me. Its 2 Am. I am running on 4.5 hours of sleep and have worked 13 of the past 18 waking hours of my life. Crazy. I feel half drunk, I think that means that statistic someone told me is correct.

Last wednesday and thursday, I saw Horizon by and with Rinde Eckert it was everything I would have hoped and some. Definitley worth the two year wait. Thursday I actually had my first ever "gig" with the Cotton Dirty Laundry Tour. I handed out shirts and info on Cotton, I wore some neat clothes and did a television promotion.

Four succesful folk from the entertainment industry were at my school on friday; Mel Efros, Ernie Hudson, Jorge Zemacona and Sandy Benniciano (sp? eeEe) They work mostly in Television but alot of the info crosses over.

As you can see its been super crazy busy, I should actually be sleeping but the McD's coffee I drank to keep me awake on the drive home from Omaha has me hopped up. Stop by to say Hi sometime. Keep it real most of all. Which seems to be the difficulty. and oh, yeah the word of the day is restraint....or Bachnalian(sp?) there is a corelation there, I think you'll be pleasantly suprised.

peace,

matt

Why can't life be more like a Kevin Smith film? I think life might be better as a Kevin Smith film. beneath all the shit there is hope. "One year later..." -Chasing Amy

Why are nights so difficult? Why is it dark out when its cold? Why is it that I can smile through the pain? Monday morning starts in a couple hours. Thats a new start. eh?

"Iam sorry Alyssa....wherever you are." -Chasing Amy(the comic book)

I don't even know an Alyssa!

I get to these uncomfortable places where I see a problem or problems that are facing the world and I want to change all of them now! Then I realize I dont have that ability. So I get this sense that I want to fix all of them in my lifetime. Then I realize I dont have that ability. So I get this feeling that I would like to change one of these problems. Then I realize I dont know where to start. So I start feeling like I should at least make a difference. But that answer seems so easy. And it all seems so heavy, like I cant even sleep.

"How doesn one most effiectively.....and then when should one stop discussing and analyzing and just do something about it?"

I'd like to say that I have the simple answer. BUT I DONT!!!! and I want it. We do, as a whole, but no individual. Step. Deny self. Step. Step. Look to the interests of others. Step. Step. Step. Don't take advantage of others looking out for your interests. Together we can get there.

Yet another short snippet of a thought. I feel like Sammy Jenkis from Memento here.


I never want to lose my sense of awe with the life.

Its not a democracy when you can't trust politicians.

Just attended an early screening of Domino.

It was the most objective movie I've seen since True Romance.
It was the most self aware movie I've seen in along time.
It was very heavy. It said alot.
About fathers and fatherlessness and about trust and media.
And Terrorism.
It had me from "Cat eating alien" to "Something was about to go wrong."

I wouldn't recommend it.

IT'S FALL BREAK!!!!!! Time to go crazy! This past week has been incredibly freaking stressful. So it is going to be nice to have more than an hour at a time to relax this weekend, although I still have alot to do.

I've just watched The Company for a second time in my life. This is a documentary style, narrative film that follows a ballet company. I think the easiest thing to say about this film is that it is utterly beautiful. I will watch it again with anyone who asks. Also, I think this movie has the best realization and actualization of space of any movie Ive seen. The entire movie is a dance, including any scene not on a stage, studio or dance floor. It is the exploration of distance relationships, space relationships. Rhythm. There is something so energetic about dance and engergy that binds us. Not to get all zen but, I think its true and its beautiful. Yet , there is something so un-natural about dance. It is almost a convention of absurdism. Using a unique shape to better express something so human as an emotion. I think Picasso and Fosse might've understood each other quite well. Something so natural, almost innocent (though it can be and has been convoluted - see comment on being zen above), dance is something universal. I think that dance might be the best, and most commonly overlooked media representation of passion(for examples watch Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon or Hero.) There is something so...baring, so revealing about music, about dance. It is almost like the opposite of a mask.

This is the reason I am taking ballet. This movie actually. To hopefully understand this better. I'd some day like to produce a work that involves dance. Adding brushes to my quiver...or something.

So I had this wish/thought go through my head today, I wish that everyone (with the exception of those who are already married) could forget about relationships for a period of time. To do this would allow people to really focus on what they really want and really want from life. Think about it! This would make life so much less confusing. I've said for the past few years that girls are confusing, you may be witnessing a temporary change of concept there. Relationships are confusing, because we've forgotten how to trust. We've been hurt. Forgetting about relationships would make things so much simpler. We could be friends again. (sigh)

"I don't wan't to lose heart. I wan't to believe, like he does." -Robert the Bruce, Braveheart.

I woke up this morning and made the simple decision to have a good day. I know that sounds silly, but in light of the events and stress of the past week or so, it turned out to have a major impact. Some days thoughts seem to flow. It seems to be there, whatever "it" is.

"What do we do?"

Just watched Garden State with a group of great people. Before that I watched a theatre production called, The Shadowbox. I thought that in the end it was hopeful, but getting there was tough to say the least. Sometimes I wonder why why wallow around in our squalor. What is the purpose of tragedy? Isnt there some hope. I feel that there has to be, There has to be. Garden State I feel intonates that there is. There is hurt yes, that is not something to be avoided. But also, I dont think it is something to be paraded about and set atop our mantles to look at. Sweet and sour. There is hope amongst the dirge.

"The only Living Boy in New York. -Simon and Garfunkel

Wow,

"Let Go." -Frou Frou

...

If you were to make an Amelie-esque introduction to me as a character, it would have to say that I enjoy eating ice cream out of the container, the smell of a humidifier and driving with my foot out the window. I don't like needles at all, the smell of dry-wall putty or gratuitous content in the media.

I think that the wisest thing to understand is that I am foolish.

It's SO weird that people actually read this.

SOOOO weird.

Thank you, I love you all.

right now I am in the middle of filming a film. Its called The Empty Temple. Temple is UNL's theatre building, my home outside of my dorm(I spend alot of time there), and supposedly (I just learned how to spell "supposedly") its haunted. I guess, I dont really belive it, but its been a fun shoot thus far. I am the boom mic operator (or sound dude, as its called in the biz.) The thing that SUCKS! is that my "boom pole" is a freaking like 15 pound stage mic stand. To Marc and Jeff of the Heart of the City shoot. I take back EVERY complaint that I ever uttered about booming for your show.

The following is a bit un-nerving to me as an aspiring artist. I dont know how to go on a journey!
Which is a very bad thing if you need to know. I seem to be able to find a moment and stick there. I dont know how to get to it. I dont know what to do after it. The fun part with my realizing this tonight, is that tonight I started with something that I am fairly familiar with. Hey, they say to "write what you know" so what better place to start, eh? Frustrating. Cause I now have two pages of dialogue and a little action and I dont know where they go. I have an idea. But I dont know how to get there. I mean, for pete's sake I dont even know these characters names yet! For the moment, the space on the page set aside for their names is filled with "Guy" and "Girl." Yeah, if you must know its an angry break up scene....which I dont know very well at all, but its what happens next that I know. But then, after that I dont know what. Yeah, its a relational drama. Its about hopes, dreams and the death and life of that. Who knows. I dont know what its about. Maybe I'll tell myself that my uncertainty will eventually lead to a senior thesis quality script. Scary! g'night.

"everyone is geniuses when its 130, or theyre drunk." -Emily Potter

Sitting here tonight doing nothing, probably watching tv or something I had a realization and it has to have been the most comforting thought that Ive had in a long time.

I finished Frankenstein last night and started Blue Like Jazz today. Both seem to be very different books. One classic 19th century, the other modern, contemporary. One fiction, one non. I sat in 3 different classes today. One on Stage Lighting, one on Film Lighting, still the other...cant really say that I merely sat in Ballet. Weird. I had a conversation on the phone today with my dad, a conversation about 19th century lit and how to fix his car. I worked out tonight, so as to keep myself in shape. A shape, any shape.

After all that I had a realization today. I realized that I am in spite of what my mother would say, I am nothing special. Ive read some stuff and I can tell you why I liked the movie Crash and why Billy Wilder was a good director. I can now do some ballet-type things, although I cant tell you what they are, cause all the words are in french. But on top of all that I am nothing. Weird, huh? What a freeing concept. Dirt, with life breathed. A creation who knows his Creator...or is trying.

Now the question is, whether to post this or not.

What a weird night,
and if I didn't say, I just might

say Ive had a near ghost experience
and I can't say I've wanted this.

----


Good bye to, and from Omaha. Tommorow morn is move in day for me, down in lincoln. Its been a great summer. Its been a weird summer. Its been a single serving summer. Compartmentalized.

"Lets Boogie!" -Willy Wonka, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Leonard Shelby: "I have to believe in a world outside my own mind. I have to believe that my actions still have meaning, even if I can't remember them. I have to believe that when my eyes are closed, the world's still there. Do I believe the world's still there? Is it still out there?... Yeah. We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are. I'm no different."

Leonard Shelby: "Will I lie to myself to be happy? In your case Teddy, yes I will."

Hot tea has all the allure of coffee, without the I'll-bash-you-over-the-head-if-you-don't-find-it feel.

*Random thought I had as I was driving to work last week*



thanks for sharing with me

3:28am and my phone rings. *I am asleep. Unconscious.*

3:30am my phone rings a second time and this time my mind clicks. The painful glow of my cell phone's LED screen burns the words "Mom and Dad" across the caller id. "hello", groggily.

My parents should be asleep in the bedroom that is directly above my bedroom in our split entry house. I should be asleep, but my dad is on the phone.

"Matthew, are you awake?"

"no, yes. why?

"We need you to get up and get dressed with a long sleeved shirt, turn on some lights in the basement and get a couple tennis racquets out of the front closet. There's a bat in our room."

Long sleeve shirt, tennis racquets. Odd ... A bat? Flashbacks of ill-prepared, full-panic commando raids on invading varmints back at the east wing flood my brain.

"ok" Still groggy. That'll change.

I roll out of bed and put on a hoodie and some shorts, nothing fancy, no concern. I open my bedroom door that opens to the hallway leading to the family room. I can hear my dad shuffling about upstairs. ... A BAT!?! It hits me. No more groggy. Like gunshots from an automatic my heart is firing. I grab a tennis racquet, a bat hunter's weapon of choice and proceed down the dark hallway. Crouched in a half walk, half crawl I can imagine myself a marine commando in the wiles of vietnam. I can taste the musk of gun-powder, I can smell the oily scent of face paint.

Flipping on the hallway light I push the hallway door open. Flutter flutter flutter. Vile wings beat in scattered pattern across my family room. My heart is really racing now, out of control. I am concerned for my dad who has just recently had heart surgery. With eyes as peeled as they can be on a creature so spastic, I cautiously make my way to the stairs, racquet raised, steely with the resolve of a frightened 4 year old. Now at the top of the stairs I hit the lights to the room, which flicker on.

Nothing.

"Matthew" My dad's voice breaks the air. He never calls me Matthew unless he's concerned or upset. "Can you get me a racquet." A command, not a request.

We descend the stairs again to the basement and spread out as much as two people can. We have no idea where the flying rodent has gone. So as to ward of an onslaught of alarm we are sure to make plenty noise so as to startle the bat so he doesnt kill us.

Moments pass.

no bat.

He could be anywhere. I could almost feel the bat breathing down my neck. We have no idea where he could be. Hitting furniture in hopes of rousing him from his resting place, time slows.

"There he is." Not my voice, my dad's. I turn in the direction that he is looking.

"No, not in the bookshelf!"

"No, no ... behind."

Ahhhhh..... Crap!

There is a one inch gap between the bookshelf and the wall ... and mr. bat has made his place of rest there.

"Get a net!"

"It won't fit without waking him." says dad.

The next hour is spent in contemplation ... please, remember my logic is still asleep in bed.

"The hand-held vacuum?" suggests dad.

"Not enough suction." ...

"How about using blankets to scare him into?"

"Won't work Matt." ... The humane society is called in and eventually called off.

"We could just board it up and let him suffocate." I suggest

...

As I sit there staring my dad starts taking books off one of the shelves. "Is this about where he's at?" He asks. Taking books off the shelf at the approximate height of where the bat is sleeping behind the thin board that backs the shelf.

"Yeah. About, yeah. What are you thinking?"

"You're sure this is about where he's at? Right behind this board?"

"Yes." I respond. Why?"

....

THUD!!!!

..................

"How long does it take to suffocate a bat?" inquires my dad.

..................

About five minutes later my dad eases his hands off the front side of the bookshelf. The bookshelf re-settles to its full standing position.

"Is he dead?"

"Get the vacuum."


Its now just after 5am.