Showing posts with label divorce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label divorce. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Zombie-hood Awakened my Inner Unicorn


My boring, day to day life has changed drastically in the past 4 months.  I have become a divorced parent, single again for the first time in 16 years and a zombie.  No, not a zombie because I am so tired from being the custodial parent to two rapidly growing boys and a puppy.  Not a zombie because I am a middle school teacher in the last trimester of the school year when EVERYTHING seems to happen.  And not a zombie because I have decided that in my “free time” I am going to explore my latent writing talents by maintaining a blog and actually finishing the book I started to write.  I mean, I literally became a zombie extra on the set of an 88mm Productions film titled The Sound of Nothing.

A little venting on Facebook was the catalyst to my plunge into the world of the undead and self-acceptance.

“So tired and crabby!!! Definitely more zombie than unicorn today!!!! Ugh! Cold weather not helping.” 

My friend and fellow teacher, Carol Eubanks-Riccardi responded to my status update with information about a movie production in which her daughter was participating.  They needed volunteers for zombie extras.  Before continuing, I have to tell you a bit about my previous acting and zombie experience.  Other than my day job (every teacher is an actor of sorts) I have no acting experience.  I avoid cameras unless I have put effort into make-up and hair.  Even then, I avoid anything other than a headshot.  My body is a sore subject for me.  My experience with zombies involves half watching TV shows and movies that my ex-husband wanted to watch.  I hated them.  They were gross, predictable and pointless.  Plus, he liked them.  He would have died at the chance to play a zombie and now I had that very opportunity.  This bit of revenge and the chance at meeting new people, while redefining myself, fueled my decision to join the cast.

I didn’t ask anything but when, where and can I bring a friend, which made the first shoot a bit of a surprise, but no less memorable.  I threw insecurities aside and thrust myself into an abandoned YMCA in Granite City, Illinois at 7am in below freezing weather.  The building had no heat, no running water and the electricity consisted of extension cords run from the few working outlets.  Zombie-hood was not starting out pleasant, but it quickly grew on me.  From the moment we arrived, everyone was welcoming.  We were given a bloody, shredded wardrobe and make-up from a professional make-up artist.   Then we explored the creepy, decaying building and learned what to expect from the day.  We were fed and watered and even taught a little bit about the film making process.  The day was long, but pretty incredible despite freezing.  But that is not why I came back three more times.

Something about becoming a zombie is addicting.  Maybe, it’s the fact that you spend a day looking your absolute worst and being proud of it.  Maybe, it’s the fact that you have to throw your inhibitions out the window, make inappropriate noises and walk like an injured drunk along with a group of strangers doing the same.  Maybe, it was the fact that we had to go to McDonald’s, QuikTrip and the library to use public restrooms while in costume (and sometimes character).  I’m not exactly sure what it is, but if I had to bet, I would say it is the people and the relationships built with those people during my zombie-hood.
My fellow zombies and the cast and crew for The Sound of Nothing couldn’t have been a more incredible group of people.  Despite the unaccommodating conditions of the abandoned building, everyone was kind, compassionate and hilarious.  Facebook friending was on the up and zombie jokes flying.  We sat, huddled on an old couch in the lobby of the building, sharing bits of our lives with one another in between takes.  We were interviewed for behind the scenes (while in character) and asked about the secret lives of zombies; a task that I found difficult on that first shoot due to my lack of confidence when it came to zombie knowledge.  Pictures were taken at every interval of the day both informally on camera phones and formally on high resolution cameras.  The day was so much more than I could have imagined.  I had to do it again to make sure it was real.

It wasn’t.  In fact, returning to set, alone this time, was even better than the first.  The cast and crew knew my name.  They were happy to see me return.  Despite the flurry with which they worked during my first day on set and all the filming they had done in the three months since, the people from 88mm remembered me and took the time to greet me with smiles.  I was floored at their ease.  Between shots, we connected over inclinations of supernatural happenings in the building, hobbies, histories and even writing.  This time, when interviewed for behind the scenes, I felt comfortable.  I became more confident as I realized acceptance didn’t come from my common knowledge of zombies, but how I could uniquely characterize them.  This freedom to be myself led to my declaration of the guidelines for building a zombie army as well as the embrace of my imagination’s return.  During the shoots, there was dancing between takes, watching out for each other’s safety and celebrations as we got the shot the director was going for.  Sharing the experience of turning an imagined world into a real one somehow bonds people together.

I participated in filming a total of four times.  Despite long days of shooting, the whole experience went way too fast.  I found myself wanting to know more about what this movie making business is all about.  What drives someone to bring the world of make-believe to life?  Whatever that element is that propels them forward, that desire to persevere even when something goes wrong with the shot, is an inspiring mindset to observe.  Everyone should take the opportunity to experience film making, even just once, to see that passion in action. Watching others take a script and turn it into something distinctively visual, inspired me to continue to tell my story, build my world, despite the hindrances I encounter both on paper and in reality. 
             

Monday, January 2, 2012

ROW80: Round 1 Goals

I have my goals for the year, but to achieve those, I have to break them down.  I am ready to meet this challenge head on, armed with a renewed sense of self and direction.  With my new marital status, I am also finding myself with peaceful visitation days.  I love my boys, but those days they are visiting their dad make for a silence I haven't had in a lifetime.  I plan to capitalize on the opportunity this gives me during this round.

Round 1 Goals:
Write 1,000 words on the days I have no kids.
Attend one of my Writer's Groups on a regular basis.
Select/ Revise/Submit entries on days I have the boys.
Blog on Wednesdays
Read one post on improving my craft and Connect on Twitter/Facebook/Goodreads for an hour everyday.

Breaking my bigger goals down should enable me to reach my larger goals that I have set for the year.  Cheer me on!

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Bring on 2012 and Watch me Grow

With a new life opening before me, 2012 is going to be the year I rule MY world!  Far too long, I have repressed my inner self.  My writer!  I have made everyone and everything a priority above my most innate need.  My fellow writers understand, I'm sure, how strong the urge to write and relieve the build up of imagination within can be.  To have something to say and have it be heard is the ultimate in personal freedoms.

Let me be clear, nothing or no one prevented me from writing but me.  Internalizing so much of who I am has caused greater damage than any another person could inflict.  This is why I am taking back my life, freeing myself and inviting others to join in the self-development and healing that writing can bring.

During 2012, I have work to do.  Goals to reach:
Finish 1st novel (13,100 out of 36,000 words) 
Submit poetry and flash fiction entries once a month
Blog once a week
Continue to build my platform and brand

I could go on, but I've learned over the years, there is a need to limit goals to what can be managed alongside life.  Otherwise, I quit at the first setback because it feels like there's too much to catch up on.  WHEN I achieve these goals, I will set new ones.  So join me on this journey, learn with me, cheer me on, correct my mistakes, ignore my rants.  Just don't expect me to stop and go away, because I won't.  

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

What Makes a Family?

As I write my first novel, I've thought a great deal about family.  Growing up in a family of four, (mom, dad, younger brother and myself), I thought I knew what family meant.  I mean, we had it all didn't we?  The three bedroom house, two cars, two dogs, two cats and all the Christmas lights a kid could ever remember wanting.  Family is picking on your little brother so much he cries and the very next moment he is sticking up for you to the neighborhood bully.  Then an hour later, he and the same bully are caught reading your diary in your room so you beat them both up.  Family is a mom and a dad going to work during the day, home in the evenings, t-ball and softball games, backyard BBQ and camping with neighbors.  Or is it?

Now as my family is crumbling and I am experiencing my own battle with the infamous plague of families--divorce.  I find I am learning what family is and what it is not.  I'm realizing that family, as I have come to learn it, is a sham.  None of the previously mentioned experiences mean anything without love.  It seems that so often we equate family to numbers, 2.5 kids, $84,000 average net worth, 2 parents, 4 grandparents and so on.  Where is the love number?  

Based on the average income of divorce lawyers ($48,353-$77,968 annually, PayScale.com, May 2011), it may seem to some that the love number has a dollar sign attached to it.  I know there are days when I look at those red numbers jumping from my online banking statement and think the same thing; especially this time of year.  Despair starts to take over, but then, one of my boys asks me for help with something or shares a story with me about a friend at school who may be moving away.  Smack!  Back in reality, I can clearly see that how much spending money one has does not equate love.  And not only can I see it; it is obvious that my boys somehow instinctively know this better than most adults.  Sure they ask for things, but they know those things do not mean I love them.  

Love, I am learning, also is not measured in increments of 60 or by 30-31 boxes on a calendar.  Nope, you won't find any measure of the love that constitutes a family on the clock or calendar on your wall.  Go ahead and fill your days with times and places, events and people.  Let me know if this brings you love.  As my children are learning how to actually "spend time with" their parents, especially Dad, it is becoming painfully obvious that love is not measured by time.  Sure, they get excited about seeing Dad.  They talk incessantly when he comes over for his Wednesday night visit--for about a half hour.  After that, they are back to iPods, video games or just hanging in their rooms.  They aren't upset when he is late because of traffic or leaves early because they are ignoring him.  For the kids, time does not equate love.

Ask any adult what their two most valuable liquid assets are and most will tell you time and money.  Ask any child, and it's love (maybe candy, but this is not about candy, so we will just ignore Matthew's response).  They feel their best when they know they are loved.  The best part is, the love doesn't even have to come from their parents (thank goodness, right?).  Just look at all the adopted, step and orphaned children that manage to find one adult to love them no matter what.  These kids are able to become contributing adults, go on to love and build their own families.  Kids are better at "family" than adults are.  Kids thrive on love!  

Next time you see any size group of people, regardless of the combination of race, creed, gender or age, look in their eyes.  Is there love?  Is there an ebb and flow of sacrifice and contribution?  Is there a comfort level that accepts successes and mistakes?  That is a family.  You don't need to know how long they have known each other or what country the baby is adopted from.  No numbers, no statistics, no averages.  None of that matters.  Love, love makes them a family.