I’m trying to make myself slow down, be present, amidst all this amazing work.
There are so many moments that have happened lately. So many moments that I feel like I’ve been living for, craving.
And then, so quickly, we competed in the International Documentary Challenge…
We’re just so excited! You can watch a little trailer here and donate to our shoe-string operation if you’d like.
Everything is going oh, so well. These moments are what I’ve been waiting for. But they are not the ones, surprisingly, that I’ve most enjoyed.
Walking around the neighborhood with Evan, during sunset, drinking bourbon, and making up dances to songs we’ve just made up…
THOSE are the moments that I’ve laughed and loved hardest.
Working at my computer for hours on end is rewarding, frustrating, draining, exciting, creative, depressing, confusing, connecting. And then I realize I’ve been working for hours in the kitchen since lunch and the sun is setting and the light is hitting the wall just right.
I find myself again in that moment.
Oh, hello. Wull hay.
Those moments and then a lot of kitchen dance parties to this song…
[yes and yes.]
and it scares me how much I love making films and how little I know about it…
but then I watch my idols get coffee with other idols and it ends with a silly story and all I can think is: my god. I want to get together with my friends for a day to rewrite a movie to make it funnier and thank each other by buying watches and getting them engraved with ‘thanks for your help, motherf**ker.’ I want that so bad.
The new year has been a weird time for me.
It didn’t feel quite new. I watched quietly as the calendars rolled over and I feared the arrival of today.
Today is the one year anniversary of my accident. I continue to feel silly about how much I talk about that accident… how it comes up regularly in conversation. But I’ve also realized that even though a lot happened last year, I did less living and more surviving.
After I broke my face, doctors put so much importance on “one year.” “It takes one year to heal.” “Don’t break anything in your face for at least a year.”
And billing agencies strongly encourage a year as well. “You can figure out a payment plan, but we start collecting after a year.”
And with a life that already moved fast, I quickly became numb, so I could live it without skipping a beat… so that no one would notice I was broken.
I always figured that if I ever had a near-death experience, I would immediately find all the brightness in life. I would live life to the fullest and no one could stop me.
But, instead, I spent last year surviving.
I’ve come to find out that this is normal. Most people don’t get release from the hospital, only to sign up for sky-diving. Most people survive for a while after an accident… before truly living. Just in the last month, I’ve learned to give myself a break… give myself some grace.
I’ve learned that survival-mode is a step [a big, long step] in the process of living… living to the fullest.
One year. This year.
I survived. I did it. I took this step.
With a long list of other things, this year has also been amazing. I could have never realized how much love was in the world. Friends, family, co-workers, friends of friends, internet friends, even strangers all reached out and loved me. For that, for this, I am ever grateful. I have never known love like that… until this year.
This year. This year!
It’s such an incredible thing.
I’ve watched new year’s resolutions trickle in and stick in the last couple weeks.
I’ve watched through almost a whole year’s worth of video clips… recounting… reliving… or maybe even living for the first time.
I put together a little video of a lot of the January 21, 2013 – January 20, 2014 footage that never found a place in other videos. [including some video of evan and myself going through all of our costume box, dance partying, at the end of a trip… get excited.]
Going through things, I found footage of me on the lift right before my accident. It was a bit eerie for me to watch at first, but now it’s a part of the celebration of that year… I wouldn’t take it back. I feel better broken, renewed, surviving, living.
Thank you for being a part of it.
Happy New Year!
[so much love.]