Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Dual Homecomings

(Bryan Ledford on the big screen at Lyric Theater)

For the record, I'm back. This is a busy week as I prepare to visit my childhood home with Chris. (He hasn't meet my parents yet, so the trip should be interesting.) My mom jokingly asked me if I think Chris will no longer want to marry me when he sees how small their house is. Even if designer digs were never within our reach, I remind her that our home was always rich in love.

On Monday ,I finished the Thacker Mountain Radio documentary film (a good first draft) with Joe York to much aplomb. The Oxford film Festival screened it as part of their summer series and about 75 people showed up to see it. Afterward, I was approached about showing it in the annual festival, which is held every February in Oxford. Not one to pass up an opportunity for growth, I said, "Sure." Joe and I are anticipating working on it together in the upcoming months to get it ready for its official debut. I'll keep everyone posted on the film's whereabouts.

After coming off a weekend of long hours and sleepless nights, I'm glad to be back in Atlanta with Chris, Em and Turner. All three were besides themselves upon my return and I have to admit, it's heartening to feel so welcome and loved.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Craving Normalcy

(N.'s Eggs on Toast)

As the momentum to create picks up, I've been thinking about what I will be working on when my film wraps tomorrow. Since A. has been in town, we've talked about the fact that I need to blog on a more regular basis. Admittedly, I've been lazy. There was a time -- not too long ago -- when my plate was so full I had no time to see friends in Oxford, let alone family in Florida. While that style of working is not a mode of operation I ever want to return to, I'd like to get back on my writing schedule, which will instill a modicum of discipline in my life.

Walking a dog might do the same. With A.'s parents out of town, I've volunteered to walk Rupert, a cancer survivor who's taciturn save for the appearance of a stroller or other passerbyer. When Em lived with me in Oxford, I relished our morning walks and energy they provided. Now, sluggishly peeling myself from the bed, I'm usually bleary-eyed until I perk up only steps away from walking into the office.

Aside from sleeping in a cozy bed and waking up to good conversations over coffee (rather than the sketch beds and bland coffee that are the hallmarks of hotels), by staying with friends we are offered a window into the patterns and whims of other peoples lives. Not wanting to do anything but relax on Saturday is apparently normal.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Precursor to Status Anxiety

I'm back in Oxford for a few days to work on my film about Thacker Mountain Radio. The weather is perfect - a nice, humidless eighty degrees - and the town is quiet. I also realized as I was driving thirty miles an hour how much I don't miss Atlanta's aggressive drivers.

This week I have the pleasure of staying my dear friend A.'s parents' home just off the Square. A. didn't grow up in the home, but her sister did and the vestiges of her childhood are everywhere: prom photos, a cheerful decor, and a trove of nail polishes in a rainbow of colors. My own bedroom in Atlanta is a palette of muted browns, and I noticed that getting out of bed at 6 a.m. this morning (far earlier than I ever do in Atlanta) must have something to do with the cheery decor. Color, we've know for a long time, affects us.

I noticed, too, that A.'s parents repainted their kitchen. This has been an ongoing affair; last time I was there it was tangerine orange reminding me of Mario Batali's Babbo, or his shoes (though I prefer the former.) Now, it is a pleasant shade of pale blue, somewhat breathy, therefore adding a nice airiness to the space. I find in A's mother a similar desire to change up rooms on a regular basis. Just as many rooms make up a house, so do many views.

On a side note, I had two wonderful conversations with A's parents. The first was with her mother on status anxiety and how it relates to our homes; and the latter was with A.'s father about finding your voice as a writer, a process which he describes as finding "your ear."
(A's father is the author of a rolicking book set in Mississippi.)

I'll be posting on status anxiety in the upcoming week after I revisit Alain de Botton's book of the same title.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Strikes Me As Lovely

Lame is all I've got for you. Between spotty email, bathroom/roof repairs that have drained our pockets and zapped what remains of our energy after long days of work, I've been slow to post anything anywhere -- except for Twitter. Check out my feed on what I'm making, renovating, or turning upside down at our house with additional tweets on what what strikes me as lovely.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Mixing Business and Pleasure

(Sketch for my first business card.)

This week I started working for an architecture firm as their Marketing Director. The job is somewhat serendipitous considering my interest in the idea of home. Many of the projects Houser Walker Architects develops are for museums, libraries, and universities, and like homes, these places foster dreams.

When I was kid I wanted to be an architect, then as fate would have it a cousin enrolled in the architecture school at University of Florida and the few times I saw her during holidays she seem bogged down by books and projects. This was not the life I envisioned for myself, so instead I grew up to work in a place surrounded by books and kept hours more akin to a lawyer than to a bookseller. Life has a way of coming full circle though, and despite the fact I still have no desire to actually be an architect, I have the opportunity to work with them, share ideas, and most importantly, strengthen a business that nutures our identities.