memories

We thought we would be gods. We listened to a lot of Led Zeppelin, and in that we thought we found everything. I thought I did. Especially live stuff. I sort of learned the music.

miss my brother

so today I had to move my stuff from the "TV" room to somewhere else. I am living on someone elses dime so that means when I have to move shit I have to move shit. I don't have much shit anyways. Enough to fill a burea and a small chunk of a closet. When it needs to be moved then it fills up the walls, floors etc of a small bedroom. 8x10 I am guessing. Bigger than a jail cell I am guessing. Brighter too. Part of what I had to move was a CD rack. In that rack were some Cds from from my brother. Well, he died and so "from him" means someone had to do something with them. So I took em to Cali. The rack too eventually. The rack is back. I am back. the CDs are back. I am in his old bed in this small white room that is a tad bigger than a jail cell. I moved the CD rack from the TV room to this small white room. Thinking. So far and not far at all. This was my room before it was Pat's room. I got out to Cali. He got out to a failed liver that took his life as he lay down in Boston Common. The southeast corner on a warm night in summer. I sit there sometimes reading a script before audition at what is now Emerson college at that corner. That and Dunkin' Donuts. The top drawer of the bureau still has some of his stuff. I will move soon. And when I do that I will have to decide, do I take the whole contents of the drawer? Or do I finally get rid of his stuff. The newspaper he had with him the night he died is still there, top drawer.

How to know when you are moved`

Moving from one city to another should seem an obvious thing. And it is. When you are there in your new city I mean. The weather is different, streetnames, people., your job (if you are that lucky) But settling in is different. At first things like a new library card, or registering to vote, drivers licence. After a while you get used to your new atm, writing out your new address, clicking on the right state when you fill out an online form. Supermarkets are easy. They are almost identical across the country. Some things don't change at all (like 800 numbers or 911). If you have a cell phone you don't even have to change how you dial a number. But then after a while certain things creep up on you. You see a bus while rushing and your brain gets weird flashbacks as the number brings back memories of another bus route in another city. Other things happen too. You stumble across a receipt and then realize it is no longer a receipt but a brief memory ride to what was your previous life. In Boston the bare trees at first don't seem too different. But after months of their black boney fingers extended against a grey sky. Well. It sinks in.

haunts

I used to think depression was a man made thing, that a human being was at ease with the universe as a regular state and that a human's non ability to relate to the world resulted in depression. Then I moved back to Boston. This city haunts me. Its' winter. It makes me want to watch grey films. Today it was sunny and the weather warmed up. People had on t-shirts and what seemed to be a complete amnesia as regards winter. Like it never happened. An old habit of mine, I saw sunshine so I grabbed a less thick coat. It was still a bit warm but since I would be coming back home as it was cooler it was fine. I walked part of the way to the station without it on. It felt fine.

But back to the haunting. I wake up in the winter and look out the window at a grey world. Tree limbs black, wiry prison bar fingers. Odd to think that without the proper clothing one could die in this weather. Shelter must be secured. The human body can only generate so much heat. Perhaps a person can only generate so much happiness.

The streets are depressing too. I often times wish for the old things. The worn aspect of it. Newness makes me uneasy. Things painted new and polished and manicured. These things I don't like.
And death surrounds me.

lights

I left the house in a hurry, stuffing an extra lense with my camera into my backpack. the only roll I thought I had left was 200 color. As I think of it I have some 400. Anyway the 200 was already in the camera. Night. 200 would not be enough and a telephoto would be dumb, unless I took pictures in the bar. I didn't. So, after the bar, at the T stop I had great views of the city, some snow flakes crossing, lights at the stop, lights along the tracks. Regrettably not enough light. I got frustrated and put the camera away and looked for a place to piss. It was at this time I decided in addition to keeping a notebook of what to photograph (and notes from past expeditions) I needed to keep a notebook of where to piss after drinking and on my way home. The T is a nightmare with a full bladder. Anyway after pissing this stop looked quite cool. The train came. I ended up in Copley Square. Street level, the bus was at the red light and I was thinking it must be leaving early. No it was 2 minutes late already. So...now I had a full roll of film and time. I went into the bus shelter and removed the doubler I had on the lens so I could go wide. Ahh...the lights on the front of the Boston Public Main Library were almost enough. I used the 2 bronze statues in front to frame these massive chandelier type lights. Always just barely enough light. Note to self, 400 or above for any outdoor shooting at night, and probably the same if I want to add the doubler. A whole role of film of lights, just those lights. Framed by the staues, sometimes on their own. I'd like to get to brick soon.

interview

today I went on an interview to a coffee shop. It went ok. I never thought I'd go back to making coffee but after a year of no work well I am stuck. A full time job at that. The bright side? With it being full time I wont have too much time to think about how bad it sucks I will just see a paycheck develop. The interviewer asked me straight up if this was just something till something better comes along. Whenever is it not that.

The Good German

Ohhh I so love Cate Blanchett. Oddly enough she is my age. Maybe I didn't need to know that. I try to not feel as if I am behind where I need to be in life. This movie is particularly interesting. It reminds me of North by Northwest because of how it was filmed. Some of it was obviously a set, some was a set imposed over still shots or some such, green screen I guess. Some was old footage. I would like to do a movie someday, and I would like it to look like a 70s movie. I walk around boston looking at walls and houses and streets. Old things, thinking to myself what could be filmed where. What still looks like it did back in the 70's. Bus garages, stone walls suffering from neglect. These are the best. When some weeds and grass grow over an old stone wall it looks timeless.

yellow rose

It used to be called T's. On Commonwealth, by BU sort of. Well anyway now it is 936 or 937 os some such. Sort of the same. except back in the day when it was called T's it was sort of a shine on a sneaker. Not a bad shine either. The staff wore vests and such. All drinks were served in beer mugs and the sneaker part? the price...I cannot remember now but it was cheap. To boot, one night I was in there and some BU kids came in and one of them spit on the floor. The host or some staff person kindly asked then to leave.

Tonite it was a hige hickey game. US versus Canada, Olympics.

I didn't pay much attention. Except towards the end.

Tonite I finished a show. Russian in essence (but written in english). I did not get any flowers and did not tell any friends (that might come anyway) about the show. No gifts, no special applause. Bah..

Tonite I think bricks. Bricks. Last night I saw Shutter Island. Supposedly filmed in Boston Harbor. I have my doubts. I saw it with my brother. We sort of thought of places where it might have been filmed around Boston but bah...Pacific Northwest or Maine maybe. Then the mind...

I got the yellow rose from the director. Funny thing there were red tints to the rose and no pricks on the stem. Odd...One always knows that roses have pricks, even though pricks have no roses. perhaps we bonded because she has a thing for her roommate. I told her how her roommate would handle things. He would bang her given the opportunity, then, when his GF found out or he decided to call it quits, he would need some space. Meaning she would be second burner till he got his fill of other pussy.

Of the few of us there someone (another actress) declared, that I am not a "total pig". Funny hiw guys like me with some morals will be branded pigs but the guys who will be in a relationship and then find somehow that they are unfulfilled etc will bang other chicks. Somehow misunderstood. The thanks I get for respecting marriage rings. Old advice, do the right thing always, don't expect anyone to thank you.

But last night. Bricks. I hang out with...umm...no not last night..that was Shutter Island, and I talked to my brother about where it was filmed and the mind. The night before was drinking with cast. I got stuck out of town on mass transit, got to Cambridge late and there was no more southbound Red Line. So, I took the number 1 bus as it got me over the Charles, and then half guessed a point close enough for me to walk (about 2 miles). So, I walked from Melnea Cass to Southie. Through Andrew Square. I guess I had done this walk before sort of but not ever this close to the Old Colony Projects. It was quiet, eery. I walked by so many parts of it that had not ever really changed for maybe 30-40 years. In spite of it being not the warmest nite, all the common doors were open. I cannot imagine this to making it warmer. No. I could see through many hallways from one side to the other. The open doors made it less noisy I imagine. Drug runners, the psychotics, the regular drunks who didn't want to wake anyone, and then, anyone else who wanted to run east to west without opening a door too.

There were many nice cars parked there suggesting the neighborhood had changed and then also lots of broken window glass, more than I would expect.

Bricks, Small, old, medium sort of old, Old Colony old but new but old too. See they were used on the red line to make the stations pretty back in the day but they are buried now. Shutter island had the same big bricks on the interior for the interrogation scenes.

I asked all that were with me tonite about their dreams and then admitted I would write a screenplay about my youth there. Lukewarm response...

addendum via Steve Martin

so I was in Goodwill looking for a black shirt (and scarf of some sort, black also). I found both. This goodwill for some odd reason had a great selection of black shirts. In fact I found both so fast I had extra time so started scanning the VHS selection and book selection for funny stuff. I found a copy of a book Steve martin had written. I almost bought it. The first few pages started off with him in San Francisco. There was a coffee house called Coffee and confusion. It looked like Grant and Green from the small pic. Anyway it was where Steve had his start. His recounting the days of what it was like there for him. Made me nostalgic for San Francisco. He got to the point where he talked of how he dreamed of the future. He decided, after years of performing, that grandiose daydreams were fine to fill in the moments between true inspiration. So be it.

plays

Yes, this week has started, the week of the day that is for honoring presidents. It ends with a cast party on Friday. It started, with today, and today was a cue to cue for the play. The cue to cue woman was such a bitch. I sort of waited for her to test me. Anyway, me, being an actor, and having done exactly what I was supposed to do, i.e. show up on time, in costume, props ready. Check check and check. Well...it went...

the fun part of it all, was when we did a run through in a props room of some sort. Well it got funner. The fact is it is too close to the show going up for any real big changes to happen so I am having fun just doing my part and not caring.

Broke. But not so broke. Funny it takes some getting used to. I keep looking for the silver lining. The joy from humility, the ease of life from not having so many possessions. I think the possessions are just tangible representations of the mental posessions. In other words, having less is not really having less in a sense.

Ok sleep is needed. Tommorrow I must do laundry, and also, wash these black pants I used for rehearsal mostly cause I dripped chinese food sauce of some sort on them.