Category Archives: Uncategorized

Yes. I know. I know.

You’re going to think I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about when I say I’ve been building web sites for myself since 1997.

However, I have managed to come upon yet another annoying glitch with the set-up of the Abstract Absurdity Productions website (I guess I’m just hellbent on embodying the “Absurdity” aspect of this project), that the WordPress “Happiness Engineers” assure me they can address within the next 24-48 hours.

Honestly. I am so fucking serious.

I’m, like: you’re kidding me, right??!!

Jesus.

So here I sit, on a rather chilly but very sunny Sunday, with all this web work to do and I yet again cannot do any of it.

So, what I did instead was sat at my kitchen table and tried to come up with some enormous reserves of will power to not write to this person that I said I wouldn’t write to anymore.

I was thinking of a poem by Langston Hughes that embodies everything I feel right now. But I couldn’t recall the actual poem, just one specific line from it. So I took down my ancient, brittle, dust-mite-ridden copy of Selected Poems by Langston Hughes (©1959 — but I haven’t actually owned the book since the year before I was born; I bought it in the mid-1970s).

And  when I opened to the Table of Contents, I discovered many little asterisks next to many of the poems, and I suddenly recalled that when I was 17, I was writing a one-person play and that the dialogue consisted of nothing but poems by Langston Hughes.

Don’t you find that really interesting? I kind of do. I remember that I worked really hard on it but that, eventually, I felt like I was in over my head and I gave up.

And as I opened the book to each poem that had an asterisk — lo! these 43 years later — it was so interesting to see that all the words came back to me, like they were etched in my brain.

And it was also really interesting to see the poems I had selected for the play. Because even though, when I’d re-read them today on the page and felt I had them memorized somewhere deep inside me, at first, I hadn’t recalled any of these poems. For instance, this extremely interesting one for my 17-year-old white self:

Ruby Brown

She was young and beautiful
And golden like the sunshine
That warmed her body.
And because she was colored
Mayville had no place to offer her,
Nor fuel for the clean flame of joy
That tried to burn within her soul.

One day,
Sitting on old Mrs. Latham’s back porch
Polishing the silver,
She asked herself two questions
And they ran something like this:
What can a colored girl do
On the money from a white woman’s kitchen?
And ain’t there any joy in this town?

Now the streets down by the river
Know more about this pretty Ruby Brown,
And the sinister shuttered houses of the bottoms
Hold a yellow girl
Seeking an answer to her questions.
The good church folk do not mention
Her name any more.

But the white men,
Habitués of the high shuttered houses,
Pay more money to her now
Than they ever did before,
When she worked in their kitchens.
(Langston Hughes)

Or how about this one:

To Artina

I will take your heart.
I will take your soul out of your body
As though I were God.
I will not be satisfied
With the touch of your hand
Nor the sweet of your lips alone.
I will take your heart for mine.
I will take your soul.
I will be God when it comes to you.
(Langston Hughes)

I don’t know, I found that just really interesting. Apparently, when I was 17 I was already exactly how I am now — the things that matter to me, I mean. They still move me, they still matter.

And then I even recalled vividly that the opening to my play was this poem (and I still think it makes a great opening for a one-person play):

Harlem Night Song

Come,
Let us roam the night together
Singing.

I love you.

Across
The Harlem roof-tops
Moon is shining.
Night sky is blue.
Stars are great drops
Of golden dew.

Down the street
A band is playing.

I love you.

Come,
Let us roam the night together
Singing.
(Langston Hughes)

Well, perhaps I’ll work on that play again sometime. I probably won’t be in over my head anymore.  And I did indeed find the poem I was actually looking for — hard to believe it’s a poem retrieved from my wee bonny 17-year-old girlhood. I leave you with it, gang!

Beale Street

The dream is vague
And all confused
With dice and women
And jazz and booze.

The dream is vague
Without a name,
Yet warm and wavering
And sharp as flame.

The loss
Of the dream
Leaves nothing
The same.
(Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes; 1901-1967

Apparently, It’s Been Going On For Millennia!!

Hand-washing, that is.

Pontius Pilate springs vividly to mind, in fact.

Okay, you know, I usually don’t like this blog to be about current events because you can get  enough of that stuff all over the place. But I do have to say that, yesterday afternoon, I went to go drop off my water bill at what we lovingly call here “City Hall” (a tiny store front), and I headed past our local gas station and my mouth fell open. Literally.

And it was snowing like crazy, too, with very high blizzard-like winds but the snow wasn’t sticking, or anything — it was just so weird outside. (This was shortly after the strangely unanticipated funeral procession drove past my kitchen window — see yesterday’s quick post). Anyway, everything just felt so weird. And then I saw that the price of gas had plummeted!! It is currently $1.83 a gallon. It is so cheap that it’s bizarre.

What’s even weirder, is that I usually go further out of town, into the middle of nowhere, to buy my gas because it’s almost always cheapest there. But, suddenly, right smack in the middle of Crazeysburg was the cheapest gas I’ve seen in 30 years. For no discernible reason whatsoever.

And we have our one little dollar store here, and it has plenty of toilet paper, and also food. All kinds of processed, packaged, and frozen food. Not the kind of food I buy, though (except for ice cream, in the event I need to ponder something). Still, we have food. I mean, don’t come visit or anything, because we don’t want you to clean us out. My point is only that we have all this stuff that the big cities and the nearest towns are all out of, and now we also have the cheapest gas I’ve ever seen — I really do think I’m living in the Land that Time Forgot.

Well, onward.

Yesterday, in the mail, I received a poetry book that I had ordered recently and it arrived signed by the poet. It was the best inscription I’d ever read. For some reason, she knows I’m a writer, which took me aback a little, but her inscription was mostly about best wishes for “seeing beauty amidst disaster.”

That, to me, could not have summed up all of life, and specifically my own life, more perfectly.

I’m looking forward to reading the book — it’s an award-winning chapbook. I will write more about it after I read it. I get the feeling that the poems are extremely intense (they’re about disaster, actually). I’m gonna find out.

I am also going to get that darn web site working today if it kills me. It is just insane, how much trouble I’m having. And it’s just tiny bits of trouble here & there, which accumulate into just a really frustrating headache. So we shall see. But I guarantee you that I have been  building websites since 1997 — and those include many award-winning websites!! — and yet nowadays, these “user-friendly” and “easy-to-use” website templates  are counter-intuitive, rarely do what I need them to do and they make me lose my mind.

New topic.

I had a brief text exchange yesterday with my sister, just to start the process of dipping my toe in that water of needing my birth mom to be here for extended periods when I have to be in LA. (My mom lives with my sister.) And my sister assured me she would make it happen.

So, between the two of us…

My poor mother — her fate is now sealed and she doesn’t even know. But to be fair, she really does like staying here. She gets all that privacy and gets to do stuff out in the garden, with my many flowers (mostly meaning: pulling the weeds that I tend to ignore now because pulling weeds would require that I leave my desk).

Which reminds me. I went into the guest room to water the plants this morning, and just look at this poinsettia!

This poinsettia is almost 5 years old.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beautiful, right? Plus, there was a ladybug on the window, too! (Although I’m kind of starting to believe that these are just ladybugs, you know? Maybe not signs of anything more than unexpected life. Which of course, is a good sign.)

However, I digress.

But my point was that it takes so much off my mind, knowing that even if I have to be away for extended periods, my mom will be here, taking care of my house and my many cats.

Well, I’m gonna scoot. I want to get back in bed and read poems for awhile. Then gear up to face that web site again. I hope you have a really nice Sunday, wherever you are in this pandemic-driven world. Just do what you think is best, okay? And keep in mind that we’re never really gonna get it (life) right, you know? So just let it evolve into whatever it needs to be — life, love, best-laid-plans, etc.  One thing I know for sure about all this stuff is that everything we think we understand is probably way off course and that everything always comes back around for another shot or a closing statement. And then we personally define whether that’s good or not so good. And then on we go. Right? All righty. I love you guys. See ya. And remember… (really nice version of this song if you’re willing to still listen to Michael Jackson.)

What are the odds?

I was sitting at my kitchen table, reading a very short story by Ben Nickol,  titled “Opening Night”.

It was very good but very sad. About a little girl who”s in a school play and then gets killed on the way home and then how the family dynamic changes immediately and forever.

Really well written but just so sad.

I tossed the book onto the table, got up and went over and leaned on the kitchen counter, looked out the kitchen window in order to think, to process, and a funeral procession was driving by.

Sort of unnerving, really. Talk about the immediacy of life. Or death. God, life is so strange.

Okay, well, the web work today made me crazy yet again because I could not unlock the domain from GoDaddy as hard as I tried. Finally called support and got someone who appeared to be trying to help about 5 customers at once — I’m not kidding. And it turned out that the problem was they had somehow connected an email to that domain that I have not had in over 10 years…..

Fuck. It only took half an hour to figure that problem out. So then they finally fixed everything and assured me it would be good to go in a few more hours!!!!!!!

So. I gave up. For now. Hope you’re having a more productive day wherever you are in the world! See ya, gang.

Getting Even MORE Ducks In A Row!

Okay. I am going to show you the (allegedly) FINAL version of our logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. (And I love it!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

And to be honest, gang, I am absolutely overwhelmed by the responses we are getting to the company overall — not just our logo, but I mean our Mission, our raison d’etre, our inspiration (primarily European New Wave cinema from the 1950s & 1960s) , the storylines of our imminent micro-shorts (completely absurd plots). All of it.

And not only do we have that great cinematographer as part of our company profile now, but yesterday we got a social media expert onboard, as well,  who loves our European sensibilities and wants us to get our package together immediately in order to pitch it to an additional very high profile TV streaming platform. (We are already well connected to one other one.)

So it is extremely exciting, gang. But overwhelming, too. In a way, you know. As in: I might have to live in Los Angeles a lot of the time. I was absolutely not anticipating that.

And since the theater projects are in NYC and Canada, what does that mean?

It means that I’m sort of curiously running the potential conversation through my brain as to how I am going to convince my birth mom to live here in Crazeysburg for pretty much the rest of her life…

I didn’t sleep well at all last night. Well, I slept well, during the meager hours that I actually slept. I was awake a lot of the night. I made a decision about something on Thursday that I am determined to stick to because I know it’s the right thing. But it’s like being on one path — a path you really, really love being on. And then being re-directed by the entire Universe, basically, to suddenly go down another path. A path I can’t even really see yet, so I’m just walking it blind now, but knowing that it’s the right thing.

I don’t want to have a broken heart about all this because I know that’s not a thing that anyone wants for me in this situation. So I’m trying to just move forward.

So I laid there in the dark, the birds were already starting to sing outside my window somewhere. And I decided to stream Tom Petty’s song “No Reason to Cry,” from the amazing Heartbreakers 2010 album , Mojo.

And I’ll tell you what — I’m willing to bet money on the fact that Tom Petty knew for sure that girls would cry when they listened to that fucking song. Tom Petty-type girls, anyway.  And I did fucking cry. Because I’m overwhelmed right now. And the room was dark. And the sound quality on my iPhone is really, really good. Tom Petty’s voice filled my room like some sort of crystal bell ringing, right? So I cried a little bit.

But I also know that Tom Petty mostly wanted people to just live. Live life, fight for what you believe in, do the right thing. Stuff like that — don’t just lay in the dark and cry. So I switched to the song “Let Yourself Go,” also on Mojo. But it’s a song that I feel better represents who I really am. So I was able to move out of the tears and think more clearly.

And right then, I came to the decision (I’ve been debating it for a week now) to cancel the audition tomorrow for the literary arts festival that’s taking place in early June. It’s just too close to the trip to Zurich — assuming the trip even happens with this insane coronavirus craziness going on.

I was telling my new friend in Switzerland, regarding that literary festival, that aside from it being only a ten-minute reading, it’s a heavily edited version of a chapter from Blessed By Light that I really, really love. I am not emotionally attached to the piece at all now because I had to change my protagonist’s voice pretty extremely to get him to not only be family-friendly, but also to fit in the really short time-allotment.

So I emailed the festival people right then, before the sun was even up. And now, the Zurich thing can happen, as long as Los Angeles doesn’t become some sort of huge looming specter in early June, too… that hinges on when the cinematographer can be in LA.

Well. I forgot to mention that the coronavirus has delayed the opening of Nick Cave’s art exhibit in Copenhagen.

The announcement went out on Instagram yesterday morning. I’m guessing the book will still come out on schedule, though. So I’m making sure to keep 17 million US dollars freed up in my checking account, because I pre-ordered the book (in British Pounds Sterling) and I wouldn’t want to come up short on the day they decide to deduct the charge (for the book plus the expensive overseas shipping) from my account.

(Oddly enough, spell check doesn’t like that word “pre-ordered” and it offered me the word “pee-ordered” instead. I’m not real sure what the heck that would mean or why it would ever make sense to use it. I mean, like, what the hell would be going on when you’d need to say “pee-ordered” and it would actually make sense? Anyway.)

Well, I don’t have to do Booty Core or yoga today. And even though I have a ton of work to do on the new web site, I’m waiting for stuff from Peitor to arrive in my inbox. So until that occurs, I think I’m going to go back to bed and stare out the window for a little while. Drink some coffee. Wonder about life.

So I’m gonna scoot. Thanks for visiting, gang. Have a real good Saturday, wherever you are in the world. I’ll leave you to choose your own preference today: to cry or not to cry. Or maybe a little of both. It’s up to you — I trust your judgment completely. All righty. I love you guys. See ya.

“Let Yourself Go”

Rain on the river I’m soakin’ wet
Waitin’ on friend who ain’t come yet
And he might not get here for three or four days
Got to make a little bit go a long way

I’ve got a blond-headed woman who likes to come around
Cute little hippy girl lives in town
Brings a bag of records and she plays ’em ’til dawn
Give me a little lovin’ then she got to go home

When times are hard
When you start feelin’ low
Let yourself go
When the river’s risin’ and the world feels cold
Let yourself go
Let yourself go

I got a 442 sittin’ in the sun
Well it’s been ten years since she used to run
Man she was a beauty in ’69
But there ain’t no more comin’ down the line

When times are hard
And you start feelin’ low
Let yourself go
When the river’s risin’ and your world feels cold
Let yourself go
Honey let yourself go

c – 2010 Tom Petty

Last Night, I Had A Dream

That Fluffy, my wonderful, goofy, intensely loving little stray cat, was alive again. And frisky and fluffy as anything you ever saw. She was scampering all over my living room. (That’s her, pictured above.)

She had been in a nursing home (of all things) because she was ill and dying (in real life, she died at home in my bed, from cancer, back in September 2016, and then, sadly, Bunny had a heart attack and died only a month later).

In the dream, I went to get Fluffy from the nursing home and she was no longer sick. In fact, she was getting ready to have kittens!

(In real life, when she first decided to come live with Mikey Rivera and me, she was still very young, starving, ill with pneumonia, infested with fleas, and pregnant with kittens. We took her in and took her to a vet, who assured me that Fluffy wouldn’t survive. I decided otherwise. I had the kittens aborted and kept her in quarantine for a very long time. And she lived to be 10 years old.)

This time, in my dream, Fluffy was obviously so healthy and full of life that I knew she and the kittens would live and I was so excited that, soon, I would have kittens scampering all over the house again. And I knew I was going to keep every one of them.

So. Well. I’m having a bit of a broken heart here this morning, I’m not going to go into why. But I felt that the dream was encouraging. I don’t really know how to interpret it, but it just made me feel hopeful. About the power of life, I guess.

Well, at this point maybe it won’t surprise you (it sort of surprised me, though, I have to say), that Peitor continued all day yesterday to tinker with that new logo for Abstract Absurdity Productions. He did some amazing work on it. But each time I thought that it was great, he tinkered some more and it was even more amazing.

However, he sent me so many versions of the logo in texts yesterday, that now I can no longer tell which one I like better or why.  We are working on the phone today, so I’m guessing we’ll be going over that and choosing one.  (I hope.)

I woke up this morning and suddenly recalled how meticulous he is — a true perfectionist. And I suddenly had a vision of perhaps being in a film editing studio with him, editing one of our future 45-second movies, and perhaps tearing my hair out…

ME (to him): “I thought that was real good.”

HIM (to the film editor): “Obviously I still need to study this. Let me see that one frame again.”

ME (thinking): oh no…

Then:

ME, CONT’D (17 million hours later): “Oh my god, Peitor — that’s fantastic.”

HIM: “I know.”

BOTH OF US (accepting our Academy Award for Best Short Subject Film of the Year):

ME (wondering where Nick Cave is and what color suit he’s wearing): Silently staring at audience.

HIM (holding the actual Oscar): “…each element and perspective, and placement for not only aesthetic but also thesis…”

All righty!! Of course, I am 100% not kidding!!

However, let me tell you a couple of things. Quite a few music Divas from the 1970s saw their careers land back to the top of the Billboard Dance charts 30-40 years later, after hiring Peitor to write songs and produce for them.

And I remember, vividly, a time I was staying with him in LA — when he had this really lovely garden townhouse on N. Fairfax off of Sunset Blvd. I was in LA promoting Neptune & Surf because it had just come out (this is over 20 years ago). And I was up in the guest room, just killing time because Peitor was under a really tight deadline to compose a 60-second piece of music for some sort of Simpson’s movie. (Yes, the animated Simpsons.) He was at that piece for hours. And I could hear him at his keyboard the entire time. And he was going over & over & over one certain refrain. And I mean, for hours he was doing this — one section from a 60-second piece of music.

And then finally a messenger came to pick up the tape. And finally Peitor and I went out to dinner. And when we came home, another messenger had come by to slip an envelope under Peitor’s door and in it was a check for $36,000. For that 60-second piece of music.

‘Nuff said. So. If he wants to tweak that logo 17 million times, I say, “let him!!”

Okay!!

Nick Cave sent out a really beautiful Red Hand Files letter thing this morning. Pertaining to the Bible, and to Mary Magdalene, specifically.  It meant a lot to me, what he said. You can read it at that link there if you so choose!!

I need to scoot because I have stuff to get to before Peitor calls. I hope you enjoy your Friday, wherever you are in the world. And just remember that love is beautiful, no matter what, so just be brave, okay? I leave you with two things today. A song from the 2013 album, Push the Sky Away, by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (The cool lyrics-in-progress are in the video). And then also my breakfast-listening music from this morning: the titular song, “Graceland,” from Paul Simon’s 1986 Grammy winning album-of-the-year, Graceland.

I love you guys. See ya.

“Graceland”

The Mississippi Delta was shining
Like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the civil war

I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland

She comes back to tell me she’s gone
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed
As if I’d never noticed
The way she brushed her hair from her forehead

And she said losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow

I’m going to Graceland
Memphis Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poor boys and Pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Oh, so this is what she means
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow

In Graceland, in Graceland
I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see
Graceland

And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

c – 1986 Paul Simon

Booty Core in a Bubble!

Yes, that’s me, doing Booty Core in my bubble in Crazeysburg. We now have 4 cases of the virus in the State of Ohio — all of them up near Cleveland, which is a couple hundred miles from me, and is a large metropolitan area with a busy international airport.

It’s interesting to see how the local media handles it, though, compared to the national cable news. Much more low key with no hysteria. Just a concern for the elderly and the at-risk people.

Well, last evening, Peitor decided to tinker with the new logo, and I love it yet again!! Here it is:

 

 

 

 

 

By the way, if you’re someone who usually views this site on your phone and you’re noticing that now a lot of the text gets misplaced directly after an image — I have no idea why it’s suddenly doing that. Or why some images cause it and some don’t. And I cannot get it to stop. So, sorry about all the scrolling…

Anyway. Life goes on.

I had sort of a rough day yesterday, trying to wrap my mind around several things. The most recent one being that we now have that amazing cinematographer onboard for Abstract Absurdity Productions. And because our concept is so cinematic and artistic and absurd, he’s willing to be part of our company profile. And we haven’t even made out first movie yet.

The reason that something wonderful like that causes me to have a rough day is because of that tendency I have to “have an idea” and then, sure enough, it turns into something like this.  I’m excited, for sure, but it feels a little overwhelming.  How am I supposed to really spend all that time in LA this summer? Maybe it will work out just fine, I don’t really know. But I’ve got so much on my plate ( and even before the Coronavirus, it was all up in the air, date-wise).

Peitor is clearly the “director” part of the company and I am the “producer” part — a ton of paper work for me and organizing and creating budgets. Not to mention that the scripts, that we create together, have to be on paper before we shoot them — even though these are micro-micro shorts that we’re talking about shooting in LA this summer. It’s still 3 of them.  And a cinematographer who is willing to go to LA specifically to shoot those films — well, it has to be incredibly organized.

So when I got the flurry of texts late last evening, after having spent the day on accounting work for the company, and the web site nonsense, and trying to figure out how to be a film editor in the space of 14 seconds…

Okay, well!!

I just had a 45-minute phone conversation with Wayne, my ex-husband in NYC.  And I got to unload onto him everything I was in the process of unloading here — plus some other stuff that’s really, really confounding me right now.

And he said: “You wouldn’t be Marilyn Jaye Lewis if things weren’t so complicated. You’re going to pull it all together — I already know this about you and you do, too.”

And he added that he was a big fan of mine. So that was very, very nice, right? I’ll tell you, my marriages work so great when I’m not actually married to the people. And I’m only partly kidding. And it does give me much food for thought. That’s for sure.

Anyway! Now it is almost noon and I need to get started here, gang! Thanks for visiting. I hope you have a really good Thursday, wherever you are in the world. I love you guys. See ya.

Oh Anyway, At Least I’m Sort of Happy

What a day, gang.

I did manage to take one seminar this afternoon on short film financing that was actually quite interesting.

And I did manage to sort of figure out a little about how to work the Lightworks film editing software. I watched the instructional videos. It does not look too complicated.

But earlier, I once again had another insane time trying to set up the web site. I am just so sick of these “new & improved” and allegedly “user friendly” web templates that only make you want to shoot yourself.

And while wanting to shoot myself, I attempted to call Peitor for his help and he was of course off doing yoga and listening to the tranquil sound of Tibetan singing bowls.

I thought that perhaps I should just put the silencer on my gun so as not to disturb him….

Just kidding, of course.  I am not going to shoot myself.

I did manage to take a walk, though, to try to get my brain back on track. I took this cool photo of the beloved train tracks across from my house — looking west. (You can probably guess that when the sun sets, these tracks do indeed look awesome.)

Train tracks looking West

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then I had to do some accounting work for Abstract Absurdity Productions, and so that’s always fun.

And now my brain hurts.

But the good news is: Peitor has gotten us a great cinematographer!! Honestly. I can’t post here yet who it is, but he has agreed to be in LA to shoot three of our micro-micro shorts this summer.

(But now I seriously am going to shoot myself — I told you this was going to happen, right? That every single thing I needed to do this year would happen at the same time?)

Still. I am really happy, gang. But also really, really exhausted. I need to do Booty Core now and I’m not exactly sure how I’m going to find enough energy to get out of my desk chair. Perhaps I’ll just topple over and focus on floor exercises today…

Meanwhile, I love you guys. Have a really good evening, wherever you are in the world, okay? Thanks for visiting. (But please talk quietly, the bunnies are sleeping.)

Image result for beatrix potter bunnies sleeping

Gosh, I Feel So Bad For Me!!!

Yes, gang! I know!! My life SUCKS!!

I have to spend the whole darn day working on that new web site for Abstract Absurdity Productions or it is NEVER gonna launch!!! Fuck.

I hope that by now you had a chance to see our wonderful new logo!! I just love it. Peitor did such a great job. He had been trying to explain his idea to someone there in LA who actually designs logos, but then realized he was just going to have to do it himself if it was going to be anywhere close to what he was envisioning.

He’s been a record producer for decades and, as the Internet took over the music industry, he became really good at designing album cover art JPEGS, too, so he decided yesterday to just do our logo himself.

I am so happy with it!! It fills me with glee whenever I look at it. I’ll post it again here, in case you didn’t see it. This is just the rough image that he texted me last night:

Abstract Absurdity Productions new logo

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s an urgent update, on another, very different note!

The starlings are right at this very moment building a nest in my gutter but, for now, choosing a whole new area of the gutter to destroy!! This one is outside my upstairs bathroom window.  Isn’t that just fantastic news??!! After I so patiently didn’t fix the part of the gutter they destroyed last Spring so that it would be all move-in ready for them this Spring??!!

Okay. Back to what I was saying.

Our meeting yesterday was not about script work at all, even though we are so close to finishing the script. Instead, we wound up working on business stuff and discussing what I needed to do to get the website launched (re-direct the domain, etc.); then get the YouTube and Vimeo channels set up; and the social media accounts set up, and we discussed the (absurd & abstract) game plan for social media once we launch.

It became quite a tidy little To-Do list for me, gang. I tacked it to the wall in front of my desk and my heart sort of sank. I cannot keep avoiding this stuff. It is absolutely never going to get done if I don’t just fucking do it.

So. I’m doing it.

Yesterday, I finally decided on 2 templates for the web site. I know the one I prefer so I hope it’s the one that will work for us. We’ll barely have any content when the site launches, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to set up. I just need it to be a template that will easily help us grow. (This template I use here for Marilyn’s Room is so freakin’ easy to use, it’s ridiculous. It is so user-friendly. I think I’ve been using it for about 5 years already. But it’s a magazine template.)

Anyway. It also became incredibly clear that I needed a better movie editing software thing on my desk top. So I had to research that. I settled on Lightworks, because it will be easy to upgrade to Pro if I ever need to. I’m not planning on becoming a film editor or anything  (she says now — but the day’s young!). But I do need to be able to edit our video clips and upload them to the web site.

So guess what I get to do today (besides take 2 more webinars — another one on movie financing for short subject films and one on negotiating perks and credit placements, and back-end point deals, etc., etc.)? Yes, that’s right!! I get to learn how to actually use Lightworks now that it’s on my desk top!! Because apparently it’s not 100% user-friendly. And let’s face it — I am not (yet) a film editor, by any stretch.

Although I do have an Associate’s Degree in audio engineering. Yes! I’m technically a Sound Engineer. However, I have no desire whatsoever to be a Sound Engineer and so my skills are extremely outdated (analogue!!). But my point is, I can grasp this sort of stuff when I focus and pay attention. (I think that’s redundant, but it gives you an idea of how my mind can wander if I’d rather be doing something more important  i.e., looking at all things Nick Cave-related on Instagram).

But anyway. I’m guessing I can learn the basic Lightworks interface pretty quickly. But I have to do that pesky thing called: watch the videos and actually learn it. And I have to take those 2 web seminars. And I have to learn the new web site template and actually upload stuff to it and launch it.

I know! I’ve tried to tell you! Even though I do Booty Core now and look indescribably fantastic for someone who’s going to turn 60 at any moment;  and even though the hair stuff really is working and my hair is really starting to look like I actually have some and it’s not falling out everywhere!! Even though all of that stuff is so blindingly  difficult to ignore — Please don’t envy me for my truly glamorous life! A lot of fucking web seminars and other frustrating stuff go into making the magic happen.

All righty. Oh, in case you want to know. Now that I know for sure this stuff works, gang, here it is. (But if you buy it on Amazon, be forewarned that the company will strongly urge/bribe you to give them a 5- star review, which kind of irked me. But it does indeed work.)

Image result for essy hair growth oil

Before I forget, if you saw my post about Weenie yesterday and how he is showing signs of potential kidney problems — he’s on his homeopathic drops now, maybe forever. And no more treats for any of them, ever. The salt content in those treats is through the roof. And I know this. But gosh they love them. And the worse the ingredients, the better they love their treats. But it’s got to stop.

Last night, they all wandered into the kitchen and stared at me, quite perplexed; their little expressions saying, “Have you forgotten something? Isn’t it treat time?” And I tried to explain to them that Weenie was sick and that I didn’t want him to die that horrible death that Daddycakes went through.

They acted like they didn’t understand a word I said. But today, they’re spellbound — glued to the windows and watching the starlings flit and flutter and build their nests hither and yon. So hopefully we can forget that treats ever even existed! And have 7 healthy, happy cats for a very long time.

Okay. I’m gonna scoot and start working on all that exciting stuff mentioned above!! Thanks for visiting, gang!! I hope you have a really great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning. Art Blakey & the Jazz Messengers, with the appropriately titled Moanin’ from1958. Another true classic of jazz. If you don’t know it, give it a listen, you’ll probably love it (and want a martini or something!). (Even at breakfast!) All righty! I love you guys. See ya!

Yay!! Shadow Puppets!!

Until that French gal’s shadow puppet caught my eye, I was actually going to lead with a cute little image like this because it’s raining here today:

 

 

 

 

 

But shadow puppets are just so much better, right, gang??!!

Right!!

Okay, so guess what?

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that toward the end of 2019 and into the beginning of 2020, I was hard at work, fixing that character arc for the supporting female character in my play, Tell My Bones. And that once I finally nailed it — adding a new song and some Jim Crow themes about lynchings and slave auctions — I had a distinct impression that Sandra was going to switch gears (after all these years of my adapting this play for her) and want to play the supporting role instead of the lead role.

I knew that the new material for that supporting role had become just a real standout kind of thing.

So last night, here comes  a text from the director of the play. He’d gotten a phone call from Sandra, who’s in rehearsals for something else right now up in Stratford, Canada, and she’s read the new version of the play now and she said that she wants that supporting role.

Obviously, I’m not surprised. And I’m not upset or anything at all like that. Just sort of interesting what happened with that supporting character, isn’t it?

For Sandra to go from a lead role, that also means being at the helm of 6 songs, to a supporting role with only one song. That’s kind of a strong statement, isn’t it?

Meanwhile, the Coronavirus might delay the table-read in  NYC in April. I’m still waiting to hear.  (And I’m of course still wondering about that Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds tour that starts in Europe next month. As most of Italy tries to go on lock-down. And I saw this morning that Coachella is maybe going to  postpone itself until the fall. I guess we’ll just see.) (I also saw that someone I follow on Instagram & on WordPress, posted that Coachella should postpone itself until it stops sucking.) (rrreow!!!)

Image result for vintage illustration of cat fight

Too funny. Okay.

Anyway. Back to me!

Today is all about Abstract Absurdity Productions. Again. It’s insane, how often it comes around now. (My idea, of course, to meet more frequently.) (My idea to start the whole darn production company…) And that handy schedule I created for getting that web site launched by April 1st is not exactly my friend.  Every so often, I stop and wonder: Hmmm. Web site –shit! I gotta launch that thing in a couple of weeks! I still have no fucking clue what I’m doing!

So that’s cool. God knows I need more stress in my life. Every damn day.  I am trying, though, gang.  You know, to stay on top of things. (And to stop suggesting new things.)

If I hear myself say one more time, “You know what I was thinking?” I’m going to scream. Enough thinking already, Marilyn. Jesus. Just stop.

Well, the weather has been inching its way into Spring here. Last night, I slept with one of my bedroom windows open just a crack. And then all these little cat faces kept trying to press their little noses into that space and get some real air. Finally. After 6 months of having all the windows totally closed.

And I’ve been able to lower the heat a couple degrees, too.

Oh, and even though I still have the flannel sheets and two blankets on the bed, I slept in my little black chemise again last night!! I got super tired of looking at the Christmas PJs when I woke up in the morning.  They just had to go. Winter is over & done and Spring is as good as here!

And next week — yay!! Cat birthdays all around!! Huckleberry and Tommy turn 8, and everyone else turns 7.  (Except me, of course — I’ll still be 12.) (Wow, soon enough my cats are going to be older than me. That’s going to be so weird!)

Happy pre- birthday to my many cats!!

 

 

 

 

 

[Sad UPDATE: My sweet little boy cat, Weenie — my last remaining male cat — is showing signs of kidney problems. The same thing his daddy died from last Spring. No more treats for this little guy.]

All righty. I’m going to finish up the laundry here and then get started on Thug Luckless until it’s time to work with Peitor on the final scene of “Lita måste gå!” (aka “Lita’s Got to Go!”). Have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I have nothing to leave you with today because I am still listening to “The Boy in the Bubble” and “Something’s Gotten Hold of My Heart.” So, instead, I’ll just leave you with this: a tender nursery rhyme from somebody’s wee bonny girlhood (not mine, for a change)! Enjoy it, regardless. I love you guys. See ya!!