1.find a sountrack. an album (or several) that encapsulates the mood, atmosphere, themes, etc of the story.
2. play it on large headphones, drowning out all other sound.
3. open notebook.
4. shut eyes.
6. write down what you see/hear.
7. keep going until you have a screenplay.
(taking occasional breaks to eat and sleep.)
|Me:||Hey Dad, I have a question|
|Dad:||Alright, lets see if it's within my reach|
|Me:||What do you think of cultural appropriation?|
|Dad:||I think you mean acculturation.|
|Me:||yeah, I do. But I was using the term the Social Justice Morons use.|
|Dad:||It's a necessary part of being human, you can't just keep the one culture all of your life!|
|Me:||So how offended would you be if a bunch of white people started speaking Spanish?|
|Dad:||Offended? I would be glad, at least they speak my language!|
|Me:||What if a white guy made tacos?|
|Dad:||what kind of taco? why would I be offended? Did I invent it and patent it?|
|Me:||Nope, just an ordinary taco made by a white guy.|
|Dad:||Why would I be offended? It would like a German guy getting offended because I grilled a hamburger|
|Me:||Well, because it's a Mexican food, it was discovered and is integral to Mexican culture. What if a white person doesn't respect the history of the taco.|
|Dad:||When the woman who first created a taco did that, did the Angels descend from heaven with a deed and a copyright form signed by God informing us that only Mexicans can make it?|
|Me:||Nope. It's just a taco.|
|Dad:||Precisely, it's a taco, eat it. I would actually be happy for that white guy, tacos are pretty good.|
|Me:||What if Tyler wanted to celebrate El Dia de Los Muertos? On his own?|
|Dad:||Tell him to pace himself the skulls are made of pure sugar.|
|Me:||What if he wanted to celebrate El Dia de la Independencia?|
|Dad:||Culture is not something handed to you by God to protect and nurse, it's just something that happens to you, and when you think you have it figured out, it changes. That's what cultures do. They change. You know what these people are trying to do, right?|
|Dad:||They want us all to hate each other and not speak to each other. They want us Mexicans in Mexico, Afro-Americans in Africa, Asians in Asia and none of us talking or being nice to each other. With no resources, no trade, no rights, and only the one language that only we're allowed to speak so that we can't communicate with anyone outside. And that's after they'd kill off all the white people. They're like the KKK, if the KKK didn't have balls.|
|Me:||I arrived at the same conclusion.|
|Dad:||Make yourself a coffee.|
|Dad:||Just be sure it's Mexican *laughs*|
This week has been creatively brilliant. I’ve gotten into drama in the last few weeks, which is a subject (class reading aside) I’m almost a total beginner in. I decided to give myself a crash course in drama by reading at least one play a day- contemporary, classic, whatever catches my fancy. This week I ripped through Company, The Homecoming, The Glass Menagerie, and today, Arcadia. (And the novel Drive was based on, but that’s a different story.)
Arcadia blew my mind. I’m completely in love with it. It’s so similar in style and thinking to what I’ve always aimed to do- there’s so much to learn from it. I can’t wait to read and re-read and dissect every moment and word of it.
Aside from my mind-altering reading experience, which mirrored my first viewing of the 2006 Broadway production of Company, I also did something that completely terrified the balls off of me. I went to an audition for the first time in my life. I love acting. I’m not great at it, but I love it. And it’s been 5 years since my last acting class. But I managed to make the callbacks, so there’s something. It was (aside from being TERRIFYING) four hours of something I missed so much in the last month or so. I’m determined to figure out a way to do some acting classes or something theater-related as soon as possible.
This year is off to a promising start. Must keep taking risks. Must keep reading. Must keep doing the things that terrify the hell out of me. That’s where the art comes from. Right?
Inspiration isn’t the lightning bolt that strikes your brain from the inside. You have to keep your eyes open and look if you want to catch it.