The movie ideas are in...

This week has been life-changing for me. Sure, I am beginning to envision a movie, I envisioned a couple, but the real work this week was — stretching into a new belief system. Making room. I had so much fun. And though it’s natural to experience contractions, I’m breathing past that, I’m saying no. It’s just the beginning, there’s nothing that says that I can’t sell something, that this isn’t the start of something…the unbelievable can happen to you, it’s one of my taglines. Miracle Mile. History doesn’t have to repeat itself. And, hang on. I liked that one.

Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile — my mother, Dr. J, threw money at a Brazilian mother and told her my father was a child molester…and four crazy years went by that included fabulous dance parties to the lambada, love songs all night. You want to be at this party, that’s really the truth.

I thought I knew what that real story was, and recently, everything changed, in a sense. So I put myself in the driver’s seat and went okay — here’s a movie, here we go. I had a hard time conceiving myself as an adult coming home, to LA, and going back to Miracle Mile since that just happened in a house. It’s not my neighborhood. Unless I go home and confront this family that maybe it was true, that the lie came into question, I mean, I came up with so many ideas…

So I ended up, on that end, with Everything Flows as in Nothing Stays the Same with A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints in mind because I got a phone call…I find out my family problems didn’t go away…so it relates to the central drama…I begin the journey to resolve it, face it, grapple with it with an awesome therapist — a Zen Master Sybil who says: you gotta care to invest. And then, Maria is the only white person in a family of color…two minutes from where she started — home. That’s…my neighborhood. My adopted brother who is also in love with me and I go to my mother’s office above a luxury car dealership and confront the situation because I’m waking up, essentially, and saying goodbye to so much. That one, looking at it, I thought that idea was the most complete, but I think it needs more work, actually, so I look forward to hearing what he says, because it ended up being a bit of a departure from the original concept.

I did go home to confront the situation…but with a whole new family, so I hope he likes it, and he develops scripts with people, so I trust him, and he doesn’t seem to have an idea necessarily about how to do it, he’s so cool in just supporting my story…I really like them.

I was trying to exercise my instincts a bit, like — I’m trying to sell something around this story.

With Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile, I put that Brazilian mother in the driver’s seat, and it flew. Meaning, the mother, Gabriela, who took me home for a day that turned into four years. Meaning, a FAMILY finds themselves in this situation. Can you imagine? Your wife, your mother…drives over to DR. J’s house and brings home her BABY for a day that turns into FOUR years? That one, structurally, I am beyond proud of. It’s a psychological drama. It has to move. It’s a big cast. Her husband rises in importance as this keeps going because—WTF? They have six kids. Four, really, in the house, but whatever.

“In this house? In this family?”

I heard it. I saw it. It’s drama.

A lovely family gets into a situation that they don’t know what to do with — his wife gets wrapped up, some insane woman drove her nuts. And then…this baby’s father acts SO strangely…guilty…Gabriela gets a bit inebriated by his behavior…there’s money, lots of it, in a sense, and it has its effect, and then, Dr. J bounces, loses her money, and finds some protector who hangs up on Gabriela — screaming into the phone. “What about your kid?!” No one is picking up the kid. But now, she owed money, this kid lives with her…I was so confused about some of those specifics —

So, where were my clothes drawers? How did my clothes work? These sorts of details. For this, I don’t need to know that, but — what was that? Her real husband? Dunno there. In terms of what he knew, thought, all that, but a family finds themselves in this situation.

She is cracking, she lied! She’s the biggest liar! But she’s in complete spin. So when she invites that baby’s father over to THEIR house and tells him that his wife lied about him being a child molester with NO real reason to get there…Her husband goes: WHAT? You did what? He said WHAT?

“She can stay here…while he figures it out? Until he figures it out?

And that rising drama makes sense. No one wants to send a child to foster care! This family is in THIS situation. She dropped MARIA off, because “it’s not my kid!” Who then calls her because shit went down at her house…”who the hell is this guy?” The protector Dr. J finds. As something that spins out of control, it makes sense. Then, they can force the situation to its crisis. Even if that’s going take a bit of research on my end. They go over with the cops, social services, and these two parents throw this down. We go to family court, you see? Foster care drama, someone on the edge, since this is such a topic, an important one, and they try to keep her, actually. The kids surround her in sports gear. Especially Jose, the one who really hated her in the beginning.

At least, her father has been diagnosed with a disease. He’s severely resisting, in denial.

The state, sure, doesn’t want to give her to this family because of “the insidious nature of this event,” I don’t know, this is the research part, which I would do. But that’s stirring for me because this couple can bring a real problem to the surface. “Is foster care safe? For a kid?” And she wants to stay with them…good people. They were good to her. Hilarious. I thought that might be what the audience wants in that case. That she finds a home. That a couple has to go through the ringer a bit.

I saw this mother, right? Picturing like a real mother in this situation, okay? Opening her front door and seeing my mother totally topless…drunk, drugged…coming toward her house…yelling at her husband to come here and to JOSE to keep the kids away as a woman stumbles into your house…in this condition…and passed out on your guest bed? A playdate. That’s it. Stuff like that.

Sure, call the cops, but what’s going to happen to Maria? She can’t just, in a sense, release a child into these people’s custody.

So in the end, we’re back at a family dance party, we end there, since that’s the best part, and the mother can have a beautiful moment…as the girl remembers asking her what the lyrics of the lambada meant when she was four…she couldn’t believe it because it was a sad song and everyone was so happy, so that way — this mother can say something wise…related to that. I mean, you can cry on the dance floor, that’s sort of what I love about that, and she’s this amazing life force.

It’s not a fairytale, in a sense, that’s what I mean. A dark fairytale. I tried that, more on DR. J, and even me, but what’s the central DRAMA? Can I do that in a week? Or a month? It’s not that every movie has to be like that, I don’t know, I’m just getting to know this thing, so the father/daughter idea I have might just need a little more time. I have to watch other movies…

I hope that something I sent will inspire him. I’m just particularly proud of Miracle Mile as an idea—that I crafted in a real outline form, scene by scene, maybe that’s not quite what “the outline” is, meaning, it might be a bit longer, more detailed, but now, I know what the movie is, so the rest should be easier because of it, I hope. It’s a lesson, since Jesus Christ, I worked without outline… whoosh. I mean I guess not everyone does that, but I appreciate it.

The father-daughter angle — I had to put that aside, actually, I gave it my best go in a week. It can work. I like the idea of it. I couldn’t stop laughing. I saw that one the most clearly, the poster, and I liked the aerospace, universal theme, with this father coming to find that…if you just read what happened on Miracle Mile…now imagine that this baby’s father…is innocent but maybe got manipulated too, or has problems to work out…and has to start over from that…with this girl…at like SEVENTY. NOT 50. He was sixty years older than I was though he looks remarkably younger.

My father…is really funny, totally fascinating…if you think…okay, so if that’s her mother, who’s this guy? Like we had to drive to IKEA coming out of this stupid situation because I didn’t have a room in my house, and the second we get there, I couldn’t even pick out my own room…it’s HIS house, HIS money, I’m under HIS roof. Seriously? Then, he decides my room will be pink. I’m rolling my eyes at this guy. “Blue.” Just to stick to this color binary. “That’s for a boy.” That he knew. Pink = girl. Then, it’s time to pack — we’re taking off — travel light, Nick gets excited. Always travel light. He’s out the window, taking in the miracle of flight. He’s examining the food at the TWA lounge for its nutritional content. Cereal? He looks at me as if I want to die.

So I just had to put that aside a minute since that might take some more time…I have to watch some more movies…and figure out what it wants to be. Nick’s “classic cars” — working on his classic cars, taking about the adjunct or attachment he designed for a spaceship to address the problem of waste. Waste is a big problem in space. It turns out to be true, no matter where you are.

Again, for this amazing month I have, I am trying to meditate on what’s going to get me to the next step. Follow the path of least resistance right? Trust your instincts. There’s a universe of stories to take on rides, see where they go…

So, you know that feeling of — wow, I was just working on THAT thing for THAT condensed amount of time, and I let go a bit? That’s it. That was quite a week. I loved the exercise of beginning to think about a movie. I just want to keep my objectives clear…what I’m looking to manifest this year for myself. I can put all the hope I can into what I’m doing. I don’t like not getting my hopes up, or that sort of thinking, because I can hope moment to moment with an objective in mind — to manifest that — so the steps to get there aren’t really a problem. It’s going to work out. That’s it. And anything that has to go…goes…

I’m definitely stretching quite a bit internally. I mean, I had to this week. I really did. This week. And I have to keep doing that. I keep clearing away anything that says no. I might not know, but I like this direction. I envisioned the vision beyond the vision, which I’m on right now — a house. I see it. I see a foreseeable house. One I could actually get to. Not to say I can’t get to — some ginormous house, I don’t know — but I remember this one house my friend went to look at, which already makes no sense, based on where I am right now, but I saw myself moving into that house, because it’s not that much, for some, but for me, yeah, and that’s her first home. That’s really been my meditation as of late. Feeling that sense of security, safety, permanence. Stature. I’ve been working on that one. Becoming a person of stature.

And that one, it’s funny, the Oldest Storyteller as a story, character, is designed to raise the bar. “Stature.” That character came around one day, like that, and suggested it, so I’m growing into that. Again, it’s “Death,” meaning, we have one life, so it’s a little reminder that life is long, it can be, and there’s value in that point in time as a person, yes, in hopefully, reaching old age, if not in that idea in itself. It also symbolizes a higher perspective of sorts, the door to the unknown: anything is possible. “Death” has been a part of every story ever told, so to that character — what isn’t possible? What can’t you become? Just can’t change that it exists. Looking around, have you ever heard, “I never thought,” or “who would have thought,” or “who knew…that person, really?” There’s a story for everyone, everything. And that character always seems to come around at an end, even if all I did was turn something in. I have to keep believing, stretching, manifesting. Making concrete steps.

I can still feel these old frameworks of thinking, I’m framing this moment in a particular way, dipping back into an old perspective. It’s easier to not do that. So I suppose we arrive at new points. I want to stay here. Put a pin in it. Go. Further. I still have a lot to do.

Like a Bible.

Bring in opportunities.

A house.

I’m working on big dreams, not to say a house isn’t one, but I saw a foreseeable house. Not to say that some comet, dude, bucket of cash, I don’t know, can’t fall into my lap, but I saw a foreseeable house. It felt within reach. I’m meditating on that because that feeling of safety has been…everything. I think I heard a shaman say that safety is really the foundation for creativity, something like that, so once one gets settled, it seems to help the whole “ordeal.” And technically, nothing has changed that much, except I took a step that made me feel more secure. Good sign. That’s a big one, I think, safety. It’s really the foundation. Hopefully, that feeling will become stronger, more secure, and I’ll keep stretching to imagine complete drafts, me writing the scenes, seeing that flow of money come in…

So anyway, growth.