I just saw a shooting star.

We can wish upon it, but we won't share the wish we made.

But I can't keep no secrets.

I wish that you would always stay.

Song of the Day (Let's Go) 08.30.13

Remember that time I was writing that it was the beginning of August and couldn't believe where the summer had gone? Well holy shit.

Now it's the end of August. God damn.

But we did it! We finished the week. Hopefully it flew by for all of ya'll out there cause it draggedddd for me. But who cares - it's over now. And I couldn't be more excited for the weekend.

Before we dive into the usual music scene, I do want to apologize. Last week was really rough for me. I'll be the first to admit I was struggling. Just barely keeping my head above the surface. Work had been the worst it has even been and I was going through some personal things that were really just bringing me down. And I'll be the first to admit that I was short on my blog - kinda pushing it off to the side. And for any of you that had to deal with me directly, I know I was extremely ornery. So to all of you - I'm sorry. I don't mean to project my issues and mood out onto you - not fair of me.

So on a lighter note, let's dive into the music. I'm not going to be long-winded this week. Just present you with some tunes. Both are by the same group. Extremely upbeat and fun. Hopefully songs that'll carry you into the weekend in a good mood. Oh, and I'm seeing them in two weeks and can't be more excited.

The first song is Matt and Kim's "Let's Go."




And song number two, also by Matt and Kim is, "It's Alright."




For a little bit of fun, you can click here for the official music video. It's insanely quirky and just a great video (don't worry - they are a couple in real life, so filming most of it shouldn't have been too awkward).

Lily

As I've matured, I've found myself becoming more and more interested in documentary films. There is just something about the act of observing that I really enjoy. I could spend and entire day, just sitting and people watching. It fascinates me. Each little nuance, everyone's individual movements, routines, characteristics.

You can learn a lot about someone from just watching. And that's what most good documentaries are. They pull the curtain back and just let you look into another person's world. So when I stumbled across the following short form documentary, I became mesmerized. It goes completely against everything I just said. Sure, as the viewer you watch. It begins with just images of Jamestown. Of trees, houses, abandoned buildings, railroad tracks, but as the piece continues, Lily begins to narrate moments of her life. Telling us stories of her younger years, as she grew up, of trials and tribulations. Yet - the most interesting thing is, we as viewers see very little of her. Just the occasional glimpse. So we begin to form a picture of who she is on our own - unbiased of physical attributes. But as it goes on, we begin to slowly see her. Just little flashes. Legs, some hair, her arm. It peaks your curiosity, leaving you wanting more. And as time goes on, the images, as random as they first seemed, soon begin to carry meaning.

I don't think I've never felt like I've known someone more after four minutes than I did after this piece.

LILY from david m. helman on Vimeo.

And what I think is wonderful about this piece is right at the end. We, the audience, get a reveal. For just a few seconds we're shown Lily's face and it's a salvation. We're finally allowed to put a face to the voice that we've been growing attached too for the last couple minutes. And to be totally honest, she sounds like a wonderful lady. Down to earth, honest, level-headed, with a positive outlook on life. I also realized I was so transfixed on her voice, her stories, and the images of her town, I didn't even notice her arm. I completely glossed over it because it wasn't at all pertinent to who she is as a person.

And let's not forget how beautiful the footage is. Slightly washed out, grainy, and raw. It sets the mood of the piece as much as Lily's narration.

Absolutely powerful stuff.

A Still Frame in Time

He was completely gone. Lost in a moment. So much so that he didn't even notice the perfectly poured latte as it was placed in front of him - not smelling it's rich, thick aroma as it lingered throughout the air. He was oblivious to it, just as he was to everything else around him.

It was a single moment. Just one frame from the movie of his life.

Something he never wanted to let go of. Lying there in bed. Wind howling outside, sweeping down from the mountains and running through the streets and alleyways, causing mischief - blowing over trash bins and knocking down freshly hung linen. It was the kind of winter gusts that could stop him in his tracks. Forcing him to squint if he dared go outside.

He was cozy. Tucked beneath the loosely knit blanket and stiff, over-starched sheets. When he had first entered the room, he was a bit skeptical of what was provided. The building itself was beautiful, with a grande wooden spiral staircase leading him up to the third floor - but the room was simple. Not quaint in any understanding of the word - but comfortable. More along the lines of adequate. It had everything that was needed for a night's stay. A sink, a desk, a wardrobe - two beds. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just the right amount. But when he first entered and saw the blankets that appeared to be handmade at the turn of the century, he was skeptical of how comfortable the night would be.

It had been a long day. Full of driving. Full of walking. And by the end of it, he was tired. The soles of his feet ached, begging for rest. But as the sun fell from the sky and the city began to fall asleep around him, he too crawled underneath all the layers of his bed and all his worries drifted away.

For in that single moment, there was nothing else that could bother him. As he laid there in the dark, he couldn't help but smile. Feeling her body next to his brought the rest of the world to a stand still. She was so warm. Like a tiny heater. Radiating onto his bare skin. Warming him to the core. Making his heart glow. Although he couldn't see her, even with the help of the moonlight that was seeping in through the curtains, he imagined her. Every line. Each curve. Of her face, her cheeks, her eyelashes, the shape of her nose. They would always be there. Engraved in his mind. With each breath he could feel his body relaxing, becoming intoxicated with the smell of her hair. A mixture of flowers and fruits.

Somewhere near his hand, he could feel her twitch, lost in a deep sleep, with the occasional murmur sneaking out from between her lips, echoing out into the confinement of the room. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, drift away and join her, but he found himself fighting off the sleep every time it edged closer. He didn't want it to end. That moment. As simple as it was. One that he could linger on forever.

So when the noise of plate making contact with the table snapped him back to reality, he was disappointed. But when he looked up to see her standing over him, he realized he had nothing to worry about.

They'd have plenty more together.

Pre Flight Jitters

As he sat there, he could feel his mind racing. Running a thousand miles an hour.

The air was stale. Tastless. Still. He could feel it drying out his lips, tempting him to go get a bottle of water. It felt like he was trapped bubble. Left to suffocate.

He couldn't hide from anything. It all lunged at him. Harassed him. Wouldn't leave him alone. From above, the fluorescent lights seemed to beam down. Illuminating the sterile tile and linoleum around him. Accentuating how barren and empty the laid out designs really were. There was no meaning behind them - just a pattern for the masses to follow from one destination to the next. Beneath him, he could feel his wallet and keys digging into his skin. Pressed firmly against stiff padding that they tried to pass off as a seat. From a distance they looked comfortable - strategically placed indentations goading someone to sit down, only to disappoint when their offer was actually taken. No matter how he shifted, it only became more uncomfortable.

As much as he tried, he couldn't ignore the hundreds of people around him. Talking. Laughing. He heard conversations in tongues he couldn't understand, about business, family troubles, pleasure. All the voices were funneling directly into his ears. Colliding inside of his head and rattling around before finding their way out. Even with his earbuds in with music playing, he couldn't escape. It was a melting pot of language.

When he did try to stand up and stretch, his body argued back. Letting him know exactly how displeased it was. His muscles didn't like sitting for so long. His joints ached whenever he put pressure on them. His hair was sore from wearing a hat for so long - bent over for hours at a time. Underneath his clothes he could feel his skin prickling - pleading to be cleaned. Wash away some of the sweat that had accumulated since the journey had began. As he wandered around from his seat, he felt uneasy in the crowd. By the proximity of everyone else.

He was tense. Nervous. Running on fumes. The first leg had been devoid of sleep. Of crying babies and turbulence. Nothing he hadn't encountered before but this time was different. It had been longer. And he was worried. Over the last couple of months he had lost control of the language. Forgotten what to say and how to say it. He fumbled with the words. The pronunciations. He had always been so focused on embracing the culture - not just becoming another tourist. But time had eluded him. Made his memory fuzzy.

But most of all he was nervous. To see her again. Standing there at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him. Radiating out from the rest of the crowd. Ready to whisk him away on another adventure. And for the first time of the trip he felt himself smile.

It wasn't nerves - it was excitement.

Natural Beauty

The sun had done quite a number on his skin. Lashing down for the past few days - no clouds in the sky to disrupt its rays. Even amongst the pockets of shade throughout the trails, it still managed to find its way to his shoulders and back of his neck. Licking away any perspiration that had attempted to come to the surface. At first it had felt good. Warm and embracing. Awakening his tired muscles in the morning, pulling out any tiredness that still lingered in his body. But as the days wore on, it began to take its toll. His skin had begun as a light shade of pink, but quickly turned red. The sun had no regard to the sunscreen he had tried to apply - eager to singe him even more. Each day that progressed, he could feel his body absorbing the heat. Every morning he felt hotter than the last. Each night he wore less clothes to bed, hoping for some relief.

So when the water first touched his feet, it stole his breath. Reaching right up through his legs, squeezing his lungs tight. His body had forgotten what cold had felt like. For a moment he couldn't decide if it hurt or if it felt like salvation. As the goosebumps traveled up his body, spreading out from his shoulders all the way down to his fingertips, he let out a sigh - shivers rocketing through his muscles.

Before he had a moment to second guess himself, he dove forward, plunging beneath the surface. At first he was surprised by the current, scooping him up and carrying him along the bottom of the river - the smooth rocks tickling the bottom of his feet. It took him a moment, but he finally settled himself and stood up - leaning into the flowing water, pushing back. He was amazed at how clear his mind felt. How alive he felt. His skin no longer burned. No longer segregated by lines of clothing and backpack straps. Now his entire body was pink - soothed by the fresh mountain water. The longer he sat there, water cascading over his shoulders, the more at peace he was. The cleaner he felt. It had been days since he had been able to shower. He could feel the dirt washing away - his entire body relishing the moment. For a split second, he remembered being a kid, in the boy scouts, told not to drink water that wasn't filtered. But in this instance, he couldn't resist it. He let a little bit flow into his mouth and down his throat. It was so clean. So refreshing. Unlike anything he had ever tasted. It was pure.

As the sun began to fall below the horizon, slowing disappearing over the rim of the valley, golden rays began to break through the trees along the river - illuminating different swaths of the shoreline. He couldn't believe how absolutely beautiful it all was. But then he saw her and he completely forgot about his surroundings. There she was, standing on the bank of the river, toes just a few feet away from the flowing water, a flannel shirt draped over her shoulders. The sun outlining her figure. She looked absolutely perfect. Everything about her. Hair falling down across her face, blowing ever so slightly in the evening breeze, wrapping around the nape of her neck. How her knees touched - the lines and curves of her legs, the roundness of her cheeks. In the disappearing light her skin looked flawless, standing out against the backdrop of trees. He was lost looking at her. Soaking her in. Absolutely enamored. He loved how even after days out in the wilderness she could look so elegant. So alluring. So honest. And she wasn't even trying.

As he continued to float there, she smiled at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was home.

I open my door and this is what I see. The hope inside a girl just looking back at me.

Song of the Day (I and Love and You) 08.23.13

Hope you all have a nice weekend.

This is The Avett Brothers', "I and Love and You."

Get Out There

I realize I preach but I don't follow my own advice nearly enough.

Get out there and explore the world.

It's balm for the soul.

Escape

I just need to get away. Clear the mind. Out of the city. Away from the world. Feel the rain. See some green. Into the wild.

Somewhere like this.

Preferably alone.

Lake Cushman from Caleb & Shawn on Vimeo.

Bucket List

It's been one of those weeks. Absolutely draining. And unfortunately - it's only Wednesday. But we'll keep on pushing though. Fighting the good fight. Until we make it to the weekend.

I know I said since frisbee was over I'd be writing stories more often, but I'm just too burnt out today. So I'll show you a little piece that carries with it a whole lot of meaning. I don't need to explain it. Just watch it, appreciate it, and open your mind.

It carries a very important message and it's cute as hell.

Morning Acquaintances

She had always seen him there. From the moment she had moved into the neighborhood.

At first she used to see him alone. Sitting out in the open air, enjoying the mornings. Appearing to not have a care in the world. He'd usually beat her to the park. Fresh coffee in hand, slowly waking up with the still rising sun. Sometimes he's stroll around the block a few times before taking a seat, other times he'd make his way over directly. Always taking the same metal chair - looking out into the street. Depending on the day, he'd have a book, usually a work of fiction, maybe even a magazine - although most mornings he seemed more than content with watching the people passing by in front of him. She was pleased to find someone else with a routine like her's. She was new to the block and was comforted by getting to know a neighbor - even from a couple meters away.

Even though he tried to carry himself with a certain level of energy, she could see right through his facade. It was a skill she had always been gifted with since she was a child - something her mother was amazed by. She could tell he was unhappy. In the way he arched his back - trying to overcompensate and hold his shoulders too high. She could see it behind his eyes. Even though his smile seemed to shine, something behind his eyes was empty. But she could tell he was fighting against it - pushing through. Something was missing.

She felt like over the past couple of weeks she had gotten to know him, feel him out - really get a sense for who he was. And she was embarrassed she couldn't figure it out. That was, until he showed up one morning with company. A lovely woman. His age, same color hair, slightly shorter. Everything about her oozed elegance. How she carried herself, the sparkle in her eyes, the way she wrapped her hand around her coffee mug. She was mature, sweet. She made him happy. And it made her happy. His eyes were no longer empty. For the first time she could finally see something residing behind them - an energy, a life.

She was pleased by this new development. Not only because she finally got to see him truly happy, but she now had two people to share her mornings with.

As the year continued, so did their routines. They'd meet in the mornings at around the same time - her by herself, off to the side, usually with a newspaper and a croissant, and they would come together, taking a seat at the same table they always did - turning their chairs toward the sidewalk, watching as the city woke up around them. She didn't mind that they didn't actually speak. It was just nice having something to look forward to. She was a creature of habit and sharing a coffee was a nice way to start each morning.

So when he came alone again, she was shocked. She hadn't seen it coming. Right away she knew something was wrong. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes looked tired and drained again - no energy behind them. The way he held his coffee told the story - fingers barely touching the ceramic mug. Unattached.

She was gone.

But he wasn't. He continued on with his routine. Finding his way to the table every morning, coffee in hand, watching as people went. But it wasn't the same. He didn't just look at the people that passed in front of him - he looked through them. As if they weren't there. She could see his absence in his stare. In the way he carried himself. He just seemed deflated. Checked out from the world around him. When he did leave the table each day, he just seemed to shamble away, with no purpose, disappearing into the crowd.

Each day she wanted to go up to him. Introduce herself. Pull him out of the grey. Welcome him back to the world. But each morning she couldn't muster the courage and they'd go on their separate ways.

And then one day, when the sky finally gave into winter and the first snow fell, he was gone. As she sat there, bundled up against the cold, she waited and waited. For him to round the corner, coffee in hand, smile on his face. To walk up, brush off the layer of snow, and take a seat. Maybe nod at her, acknowledge her. But the longer she waited, the more snow piled on his chair.

As she finished her coffee and began walking away, she hoped her friend was alright. Out somewhere in the city.

Caffeinated beverage in hand.

I open my door and here's what occurs.

A pretty little gal with pretty little curls, leans to the side, leans on my mind.

Song of the Day (Bubble Toes) 08.16.13

We made it. End of the week. Thank God.

It's been one of those weeks that work has just gotten the better of me. We've just received a brand new very important film to work on, but the studio/director insists we switch editing software to a program no one is too familiar with. For any of you out there that'll understand, I've always been a Final Cut guy and now I have to make the jump to Avid. Under normal circumstances that wouldn't be too tough, but we have to learn it as quickly as possible and hit the ground running. We haven't really had any time to adjust and the whole process has been one big shit show. Combine that will some other in office grievances and I can feel the grey hairs sprouting already.

But luckily, it's over. Time to go into the weekend and relax - try and get some of that energy back.

So what do I do when I'm at work and I'm completely drained? Listen to music! Most of the time I try and listen to more upbeat stuff, with a solid tempo that'll get my feet tapping along and pull me out of a melancholy mood. But recently I've found Jack Johnson to lift me up almost immediately. It makes sense - with how feel good and happy all his music is. I know I've showcased him a couple weeks ago, but this weeks he's been a big help so I thought I'd share another song with you. This is easily one of his most recognizable, but I love it for one reason. Music is amazing. It has the ability to transport you back to a certain time, a certain place, to a memory with specific people. Well the following song will always remind me of one person in particular. Not the place, not even necessarily when. Just the person. I can't even say that the moment itself was special. I just remember sitting on their floor when this song came on one evening and it instantly clicking. Sure, the more I've listened to it over the years, the more I've realized the lyrics remind me a lot of them. But that's just an added bonus. No matter where I am, whenever I hear this it'll always remind me of them. And subsequently bring a smile to my face.

So here's to you for helping me this week, whether you realized it or not.

This is Jack Johnson's "Bubble Toes."

Let's Go Back To Africa

Well, it's that time of week. I know you're not expecting a story. And good. Because you're not getting one.

It's time for me to share a video with you. I know I've been on a kick recently with movie trailers, but don't worry, this isn't another one. Instead, I'm falling back to my old ways - no not a time lapse either, but a travel video. There is some thing about the world that fascinates me. I've explained it before, it's the people, sights, foods, the cultures. It amazes me how many different varieties of each there are out there. Ready and waiting to be experienced. I love embracing the unfamiliar. It helps us grow, get a better perspective on life - lets us realize we're not the only one that matter - there are another 7.1 billion people on this planet. Why not go out and experience a little piece of their lives?

When you watch the following piece - I want you to understand it isn't the typical kind of video I'd show. Yes - it's a little sappy. It's essentially a love letter from a man to a woman (just listen to the narration and you'll know what I mean). Does that make it bad? No. Not at all. I'll admit it's extremely adorable and if someone ever felt that passionate about me - I'd be the first to blush. The words he says are all very poignant and true and I'm happy that both he and her are going to spend their lives together.

But...the video itself is just so damn gorgeous.

The lush greens, the crystal clear waters, burning sunsets, abundant wildlife, early morning haze, the fog nestled upon the mountain tops. Everything is so pictures.

You all know how much I loved my time in Africa. If I could hop on a plane and go back to Morocco tomorrow, I absolutely would. No second thoughts. Granted, this video showcases many different parts of the continent, but it only stokes my fire. I need to get back there. See the Serengeti, walk along the dunes barefoot, eat more of the incredible food, stand atop the mountains, explore the jungles, meet new people, embrace the culture - the differences.

Traveling isn't just a passion for me anymore - it's a necessity.

If life truly is an adventure, why ever slow down?

CHOICE. from gnarly bay on Vimeo.

Empty Grasp

The last thing he remembered was being outside on a clear day. Not a cloud in the sky for miles - a wide ocean of blue above him. Before that he could remember everything in detail. What he ate for dinner. Who he spoke to while walking around the barracks - wishing Lopez a happy birthday before he and his team left for their patrol of the neighborhood. It all became unclear once he had entered the city. He could still see the groups of children, running along the streets, making their way to school, laughing as they went. He remembered the beeping cars, the yelling of street vendors. But then it just stopped.

His mind hit a wall.

When he had first woken up - he wasn't sure where he was. His eyelids were taped down - shaken free by a few seconds of blinking. The world was washed out - his eyes hadn't seen light in some time. Everything was fuzzy. His ears were ringing. His entire body ached. Moving his head sent pains shooting down his spine. He could remember feeling the IV still lodged under his skin - the pressure against the top of his hand. By the time the doctor came in, he was worried. As much as he tried, he couldn't feel his left arm.

Before he could ask, it was explained to him. He had been on patrol, nearly a month prior, when the IED had gone off. He had taken the brunt of the impact and the team had done all they could in surgery, but his arm couldn't be saved below the elbow.

As time passed, the news settled in and slowly but surely he adjusted to his new life. It was tougher than he had thought. The hours of physical therapy. Trying to relearn how to drive, tie his shoes, take a shower. Everything had changed. But throughout it all, the phantom pains haunted him the most. He'd wake up at night, needles shooting up his left arm - where it used to be. His mind was playing tricks on him. Sometimes he'd catch himself, reaching for something, only to realize he was using the wrong hand.

But recently it had grown worse. He couldn't focus on anything but his missing limb. He was scared to go outside. Scared to interact with others. Venture out into the public. His days had become nothing but mulling around his apartment, fearful of every moment - wondering the next time it would strike. He had tried going to the doctor. Explaining it to him. But he just suggested he go to a therapist. Discuss his night terrors, what he had seen when he was overseas. When he didn't listen, he tried others, only hear the same responses. Sometimes he was laughed off, other times being offered medication to help with the "PTSD."

Regardless of the doctor he spoke too, they never believed him.

Back when he had been discharged from the hospital, they had warned him of the occasional experience of a phantom limb - that his body would take time adjusting to the radical change. No one had prepared him though for those moments when he felt cold fingers brush across his phantom hand.

Lost in a Moment

Above him the sky was ablaze. Twinkling with the radiance of thousands of stars. Each one shining brightly, almost as if directly at him - in competition with one another to win his gaze. The longer he looked, the harder it was to focus. All of them began to bleed together, closing in on one another - bathing him in celestial light.

Beneath him, the rock felt cold. Pressed against his jacket, he could feel the heat of his body dispersing into its large mass. It felt good. Like he was somehow giving back some of his energy to Mother Nature. He was bundled up tightly, protected from the slight summer breeze was trying to sneak its way in between his layers - tickling at his nose and bangs. The air that passed over him was pure and sweet. The rich aroma of pine was intoxicating. Thick and pungent. He couldn't remember a time he felt more comfortable. Out in the wild, away from the world - at peace beneath the brilliant night sky.

To his right, he could hear her breathing, slightly muffled against the sounds of the forest, but just enough to let him know she was still there. Gazing over, he could see the shape of her face underneath the glow of the stars - the bridge of her nose, the curves of her cheeks - the sky reflecting in her eyes. Somewhere off in the distance he could hear the leaves rustling with the footsteps of different creatures, out scavenging for their next meal or a new addition to add to their burrow. All around them the air buzzed with chirping crickets - a late night symphony, playing a private show for their guests.

As he turned his attention back above him, he caught the streak of a shooting star. He couldn't help but smile - wondering how he had gotten there and why he was so lucky.

For at that moment, there was no where else he'd rather be than lost under the stars with her.

Frothy Goodbye

He'd see them come in, usually around the same time - before many of the other customers and settle into a table in the corner. That specific time in the morning when the air was still - the sky just beginning to illuminate. All was quiet except the occasional bird, calling out into the sky, waiting for a response - too early, even for mother nature to reply.

She was a regular. Usually not so early - but at some point throughout the day. Always pleasant and bubbly, requesting one latte, a croissant, and two packets of butter.  She had no real pattern, choosing whatever seat was open - seeming to prefer outside if the weather permitted. Typically she stuck to herself, occasionally striking up a conversation with a friend who happened to be passing by. She made it a point never to stay long. Finishing her latte quickly before continuing her day.

So he was surprised to see her one morning so early, with a gentleman in tow.

At first he caught himself. Was he trying to analyze the situation too much? Throughout all the time she had been coming into his cafe, he had never learned her name, where she lived, how old she was. Who was he to try to figure out this new scenario? But he soon came to the rationalization that he was a man of strict habits and he had to know what was going on. After all, it was messing up his routine. As he was staring off towards the direction of the table they had selected, he was surprised by the man appearing in front of him, ready to order. Her usual - just doubled. Two lattes, two croissants, and four packets of butter. With a nod, he went about his business, bringing over their meal once it was prepared. As they talked and ate, he watched from behind the counter - not trying to eavesdrop, but figure out the scenario. He was surprised by how long they lingered - enjoying each other's company, laughing and joking back and forth.

Slowly but surely, over the course of the next couple of days, he began to understand what was unfolding in his cafe. Love. Pure unadulterated bliss. Blossoming before him. He could see it in how they looked at each other. The twinkle in their eyes, how they leaned in towards one another, smiles across their faces. He could particularly tell that fellow was absolutely infatuated with her. How he looked at her, moved around her, regarded and respected her - if it weren't for gravity he was sure he'd see the man float up from the chair in which he sat.

And then one morning it all changed.

They came in, holding hands, not unlike the last couple of days, but their energy was different. Their faces weren't radiant like they had been. There was no bounce in their step. He could still see the passion in their eyes as they looked at one another, but there was a somberness that was floating in the air. Thick and choking.

The next morning, he was shocked to see her enter alone.

When she came up to order, he could see that her eyes were bloodshot and there were still remnants of tears on her cheeks - glistening under the lights of the cafe. He smiled. Hoping to lighten the mood. And she did her best, smiling back, trying to break through the pain that was clearly hiding behind her eyes. As he wrote down the order, he caught himself tearing up - having to turn away for a brief moment before handing her the change. He thanked her for her order and let her know that it would be out as soon as it was ready. As he made it - he waited, even taking his time, hoping that the gentleman would show up - but he never did. His heart broke for her the moment he delivered it to her table.

The usual - two lattes, two croissants, and four packets of butter.

Momma once told me you're already home where you feel love

Song of the Day (Down in the Valley) 08.09.13

Two weeks into August - better start bustin' out those thicker layers. Before you know it, the colder winds will be sweepin' in.

But let's not worry about that right now. It's Friday, it's the end of the week. Almost time to relax. And let's be honest, is there really a better way to go into the weekend than with music? No, I don't think so.

This week I'm going back to a band I featured a few months ago, The Head and the Heart. They only have one album but I really enjoy their sound and I'm curious about what they'll release in the future. It's been a long week and the weather has been a bit of a downer - grey skies, not a whole lot of sun, so the following song fits pretty well. It's one of those songs that I'd want to listen to on a rainy day, bundled up in my house with a cup of tea and maybe a candle or two (yeah - just picture that). But don't get me wrong, it's not a sad song - it just gives off that relaxed, cozy feeling. Personally I love the crisp guitar at the beginning and how the whole piece feels "old timey." It's also a nice touch that as the song builds, more and more instruments join, violins, a piano, etc - culminating in a beautiful harmony. And of course, I can't help but think of Yosemite when the lyrics "down in the valley with whiskey rivers" pass by. Hopefully the following does its job and mellows you out as we coast into the weekend. This is The Head and the Heart's "Down in the Valley."

Her

I just can't stop showing you these awesome movies trailers. Sure, it helps that I'm currently embedded in that side of the industry, but they've just been too good recently not to share them with you. Thinking back to a few weeks ago when I mentioned how I hadn't shared a decent trailer with you - it seems like the universe answered my call.

So what do I have for you today? It's the trailer for Spike Jonze's new film. If you recall - I have a crush on Spike. Not only because I think he is one of the most imaginative people working in the industry today, but because his work is one of the reasons I wanted to pursue film. When I was younger I absolutely feel in love with his music videos - their whimsical style, feel good nature, bright colors. They were just so far from anything else being put out at the time and then he switched directions and began tackling feature films. The one that sticks out most to me? "Where the Wild Things Are." Not only because it is a book near and dear to my heart, but because it's absolutely stunning. The cinematography, the colors, the wide vistas, costumes. It's a perfect love letter to a story I grew up on. I'll even forever remember the night I went and saw it - where and with who.

That was his last film - four years ago. Luckily for all of us, his new film is coming out later this year. Titled, "Her," it's about a man who falls in love with the operating system on his computer. Quirky I know - but you have to expect that with Spike. I'm aware it sounds a bit out there - but the operating system is supposed to be the first true A.I. that is self aware, so it constantly evolves, grows, learns, and exists. Do I have some doubts that a full film can revolve around this story? Sure - but right now I'm pretty stoked for its release because of the trailer. It's edited extremely well, with great pacing, a fantastic score, and injected with some absolutely gorgeous shots. Technically, it's done everything right.

There's something about this film that has me hooked. The theme, the exploration of love and relationships, the dichotomy of life via humans and ever evolving technology. I'm curious to see how it turns out.

Even if it's a dud - at least the trailer is great.

40 Days

I have some good news for you. This is the last week of summer frisbee league. So, tonight will be the last night that you'll have to deal with me coming home exhausted, not in the mood to write a story.

But, per usual, I do have something to help pass the time.

Surprisingly not a video. Instead I'm going to present you with a website. About two close friends who happened to be single at the same time and decided to begin an experiment. They'd date each other for forty days (with no prior intimacy or dating) and document it. One was always eager to dive into relationships, as she put it, "loved to love" and the other, had a commitment issue, bouncing from girl to girl only after a few dates. Along the course of the forty days, there were some guidelines - they'd see a couples therapist, they'd have to see each other every day, take at least one weekend trip, there would be no dating, hooking up, or seeing anyone else (along with a few other rules). And throughout all of this, they'd fill out a questionnaire each day, explaining how things were going.

Sound interesting right? That's because it is.

So I stumbled upon this site earlier today through a friend and I've been hooked. Apparently the forty days have already come and gone, but they are in the process of posting each "day." Today was day 29, with 11 more to go. What I find so fascinating about this whole process is readying the answers from each person regarding the same question. Something Jessie might notice, Tim may completely overlook and visa versa. And throughout this process (although I'll admit I haven't caught up yet) I find myself judging each person differently as their confessions/answers to the questions are posted. Sometimes I feel for one, while I'm angered at the other and sometimes I just want to yell at the both of them - to get their shit together. It has already gone much much deeper into each of their psyches than I would have ever imagined and I cannot wait to see where else it goes.

Not only is reading each update super engaging, both Jessie and Timothy are designers out of New York, so each entry is filled with their creative genius - drawings, animations, videos. I'm envious of their imaginations and abilities.

Obviously start with day 1 - way at the bottom of the page.

Hopefully you like it as much as I do - I've become completely enamored with it...

40 Days of Dating

Ocean Melody

When he had stepped off the plane and the humidity washed over his face, immediately forming a thin layer of perspiration on his skin, he knew he had made it to paradise.

It was a vacation he needed to take. By himself. He had booked it spur of the moment, no real destination in mind. When he had first boarded the plane he was a little nervous - scared of what was to come. He had never been there. Knew nothing about the island, the culture, what kind of weather was to arrive later. He was strictly going with the flow.

The room was nice if not a little bit tiny, but it didn't really matter. The only time he planned on spending within its four walls was to sleep, change, and wash up. He wasn't there to stay inside. Deep down within he felt the need to go out and explore. Meet the locals, trying new things, embrace the culture. For the last eight months his mind had become polluted - filled with all the spoils of the big city. Pollution, stubbornness, commuters, office politics, and worst of all selfishness. As all of it slowly seeped into his body he could feel it weighing down on his soul, pressing against his heart. He felt less like a man, less like a human being, and more like cattle - just a piece of meat in the work force. Easily forgotten about - chewed up and spit out once used.

So explore he did. He made it a routine to walk around the town in the early morning. Strike up conversations with the fishermen that were loading their boats with nets and chum, help the older shriveled ladies with their groceries as they wandered back from the grocery store, waved at children as they made their way to school. After a couple days he no longer needed to provoke interactions - the people of the town smiled when they saw him, asked him how his previous night was - what he did, where did he go. Simple questions. And that's all he ever needed. He felt appreciated again. Like a part of the community. It was startling that complete strangers had the ability to make him feel like someone again - that he was worth while. He could feel the weight coming off his chest, a bounce coming back to his step - he felt refreshed.

And that was all before he had found the piano. Just sitting there, nestled along the walkway by the pier. It had seen better days. The wood had become swollen with seawater, bulging and swelling, cracking in some spots. It's surface was covered in a fine white layer of dried salt - color faded, stolen by the sun. When he first sat down, he didn't imagine it could sound as pure and rich as it did. Somehow the wires hadn't lost tension, managing to weather the elements. As his fingers danced across the keys, its beautiful tone drifted out over the bay, filling the air. It wasn't long before a little girl came out of an alleyway and sat on the wall, staring at him as he played, gently nodding her head and tapping her feet. When he was finished, she scamped away, without a word, back from where she came.

The very next day, he ended his evening the same way and much to his surprise, again the little girl came out, sat, listened, and left. He couldn't help but feel a little strange about the situation, but he couldn't help but appreciate the audience. As his vacation continued, a nightly session became a routine and each time, she'd be there, ready to listen. Not a word was said between them until it was his last evening on the island before he had to return home. After he was done playing, before she made her way back into town, he leaned forward and explained that he was leaving the next day and how much he had enjoyed sharing each night with her. She just stared back expressionless - letting his words linger in the humidity for a moment or two before shimmying off the wall and disappearing into the night.

Before he made his way to the airport the next day, he did one final loop through the town, wishing the fishermen a bountiful harvest, saying goodbye to the old ladies, and passing the piano one final time. As he walked by, he noticed something resting on top - a little bracelet, of twine and sea shells, clearly handmade. Below it there was a folded piece of paper. Placing the gift on his wrist, he opened the paper - finding it to be a note.

"Thank you."

Push For Greatness

As she ran forward, all she could focus on was the cold. How it was going to grab hold of her ankles, reach up through her muscles and steal the air from her lungs, pull all of her energy out through her legs.

She had practiced for this the entire summer. Early mornings, when the dew was still fresh on the grass, followed by laps back and forth along the coastline. Lunch squeezed into the middle of the day, after the time spent in the water and before she got onto a bicycle, riding until the sun just began to fall from the sky, at which point she'd dismount and continue on foot, throughout the neighborhood until it was hidden below the horizon, when the crickets began to chirp - guiding her back to her driveway. This routine went on for weeks. Each leg slowly got bigger. She'd add a few more laps, a couple extra miles, maybe a hill or two towards the end. She had to keep pushing herself. Preparing for the race.

When she got home her body was sore and she was well aware. Her muscles ached, her lower back was stiff - thighs like jello. After a long, steamy shower she'd spread out on the floor and stretch, massaging the life back into her muscles, applying icy hot in the really knotted places. The smell of menthol filling her room.

By the time she made it downstairs, her mother would have dinner prepared. The usual fair for the rest of the family, meatloaf, pot roast, macaroni and cheese. But for her, there'd be something special. Not because she had asked for it, but because her mother knew how serious she was taking training and wanted to provide her body what it needed. Some hearty protein - chicken or fish, accompanied by hearty vegetables - broccoli, spinach, and some carbohydrates - usually assorted pastas. She always felt special when her mother placed her plate down, but also a little guilty. Her mom didn't need to go out of her way - but she had always insisted - saying she was proud of her daughter's drive.

Once dinner was done, she'd make her way over to the sink and clean up everything - her way of saying "thank you" to her mother. She had done all the hard work, preparing the food - the least she could do was take care of the mess. When everything was clean and her hands were covered in suds and pruned, she'd make her way into the living room, collapsing on the couch wherever there was space. She never cared what was on the television. Just the company around her and the cozy feeling of being home during the summer made her happy - the humid air, bugs humming outside, bouncing off the screen door - it all brought a smile to her face. Most nights, as much as she tried, she'd begin nodding off by the end of the first show. Before she actually fell asleep she'd pry herself from the cushions, hug and kiss her family members, and drag herself upstairs, falling into bed, ready to welcome the sleep that was about to embrace her.

And on this went the entire summer. Day after day. Morning after morning.

When the water finally made contact with her skin, she heard herself gasp. She could feel the cold begin to make its way up her leg, but she fought back against it - pushing the pins and needles, the pain, out of her mind. She had to keep going - had to finish the race.

After all, this was the year she was going to beat her brother.

We could close the curtains, pretend like there's no world outside.

Song of the Day (Better Together) 08.02.13

Happy August everyone!

I can't believe it snuck up on us that quick - but it's here. Summer is already almost over, so soak up what's left before it's gone!

This week has been a tough one, super busy, and we've been down a person, but no worries, we've made it through in one piece. I couldn't be happier that it's Friday. And of course you all know what that means. Yes - of course the weekend, but also time for some music!

This week I'll be presenting you with only one song - but don't worry, it's a good one. To be honest, I usually come into these posts knowing exactly what song I'm going to share. Most times a couple days in advance. But today as I was driving home, I had my iPod on shuffle and this little diddy came on. At first I didn't recognize it. Sure, I knew who the artist was right away, yet the song itself just wasn't clicking. But right away I found myself bobbing and swaying in my seat, caught up in the rhythm and melody. When it was over, I had to restart it and focus on the lyrics. The second time through I couldn't help but find myself smiling. The words were infectious, cute, and appropriate for the type of mood I was in. Overall it's the perfect summer song to be cruising down the highway tapping your foot to - sun setting off in the distance, knowing the beach is just over the horizon. It's just a light-hearted, feel good tune. If you aren't familiar with it like I wasn't, hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I do. This is Jack Johnson's, "Better Together."

Walter Mitty

I'm a huge reader. Well, I guess I used to be. Life has gotten in the way recently so I haven't had nearly as much time as I'd like, but regardless, I don't think I could survive in this world without a good piece of literature in my hand.

I remember reading a short story back in high school, "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," and absolutely falling in love with it. The prose, the imagery, the imagination of the mina character. Everything about it was wonderful. And to be honest, until recently, I had forgotten about it. I couldn't tell you the last time I had thought about it. Recently, I was skimming one of my film websites and saw that Ben Stiller was directing another movie and that he was about a guy who day dreams throughout his work days. At the time, since I wasn't reading in depth, it flew right over my head - until I was at the movies this past weekend and I saw a trailer for it.

Hollywood did it. Mr Stiller did it. They took the story that I loved so dearly and turned it into a film. Holy cow. At first, once my excitement died down a little bit, I became a tad hesitant. Over the years I've fallen out of love with Ben Stiller, his recent work, his acting - I didn't even really like Tropic Thunder which was his last directorial job. So I wasn't sure how I was going to feel.

After seeing the trailer, my faith in completely restored. Yes - it could be because the trailer itself is absolutely phenomenal, but I have a feeling it is much more than that. There is just a tone to the footage, upbeat and whimsical. All the shots are beautiful. The set pieces look amazing. And the more I think about it, I think this will be a great roll for Ben - I've gone back and reread the story and am confident that he'll deliver.

On a side note - please take notice of how amazing the trailer is. No dialogue until the end? One song throughout?

Is it Christmas yet?