Back in the Saddle (or the Ink Well)

It's been a crazy year, but I'm finally starting to get my groove back.  It's probably not surprising that it's taken this long to recalibrate life, new house, new marriage, new projects, distractions of summer, etc.  And there's something about autumn that brings me back to a creatively balanced place - distinct from the vibe of any other season.  For me, autumn is perfectly encapsulated in David Sylvian's "September" from his 1987 album Secrets of the Beehive, which remains one of my all-time favorite albums in all of forever time.  Sorry for the overstatement.  I've been watching too many Larry Blamire films recently with my ocular face holes.

Speaking of Larry, I just picked up his two most recent films: The Lost Skeleton Returns Again and Dark and Stormy Night.  Lost Skeleton is the sequel to the original The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, and takes us to the darkest unexplored reaches of the Amazon with the same core characters (or their twins) as well as a host of new ones.  Of the two, Dark and Stormy Night is by far my favorite.  The production value is quite high, and rivals Young Frankenstein as a genre parody, this time of the "spooky old house" mysteries of the 1930s.

The situation with Tyler has improved immensely, and that has led to a direct decrease in marital stress between Raechelle and myself.  It's been a couple very tense years and a lot of work, but we have a much better, more productive, more intuitive direction.  It's good.

We're in the last quarter of development work for the Ordinary Angels television series.  Our deadline is January 1st to have the full pitch and all related materials done.  I've been delving into a lot of research, and really finding some cool stuff to use.  Between OA and new Deep7 material, I'm getting a lot done.  It feels good.

A Life Remembered

We awoke early on Saturday morning, dressed in our Sunday best, filled up the gas tank and the tires and headed north to Bellingham.  The immediate family gathered at St. James Presbyterian Church to remember and celebrate the life of my grandfather, Jack Tyler Brown.  My mom's cousin Judy and her daughter Kat (with whom I'd grown up) had flown out for the event, Kat coming all the way from Florida.

It was more formal than my dad's memorial had been, or Samantha's for that matter.  But totally appropriate for Jack.  I was holding it together pretty well until the bagpiper played "Scotland the Brave" as the processional - which had been used as the recessional at Sam's & my wedding.  So that was a kick in the gut.  There were hymns and scripture readings, and a duet of congregation members who play ancient instruments played "Amazing Grace" on a concertina and hurdy gurdy - which unplugged the dam and let loose the waterworks.

Opa holding me in Germany, 1968

There was a time of sharing remembrances, where folks in attendance stood up and talked about my grandfather and what a good guy he was.  And then it fell to us.  My brother went to the lectern and spoke of "moments", a very loving and evocative tribute.  Then I followed with the piece at the bottom of this post.  My stepdad Robert finished up with the tale of his whirlwind courtship of my mother almost 30 years ago, and how he was welcomed by my grandfather into the family.

Opa and me being goofy, circa 1981

Laughter punctuated the mistiness here and there, but when the veteran color guard marched down the center aisle and performed the flag ceremony, all eyes gushed.  The flag was slowly and methodically unfolded and held at a slightly upward-facing angle while "Taps" played and we barely remained upright.  Then they re-folded Old Glory and the naval officer presented it to my grandmother, who had not expected the ceremony at all.

Opa holding his grandson Tyler in Seattle, 1994

The congregation gathered in the reception hall and partook of the buffet while my photo montage cycled on my laptop.  The family then retired to my grandmother's house and shared stories and photos and wine.  Rae and I made a vow to travel north more often and spend some time with my grandmother, as there is much family history I feel I need to absorb.  It seems like no matter how many times you hear the old stories, there's always something new to discover.

Omi & Opa at my wedding to Raechelle, 2009

Anyway, this was my tribute:

Jack Tyler Brown was the kind of guy who made an impact on people.  Whether through his naval service, his teaching career, his church community or his family.  I have no doubt everyone here could tell a story about how my grandfather impacted their lives.  I could speak about how he connected with others, how he never met a stranger, how he thrived in a marriage of almost seven decades, how he served his country, how he was an icon to his students, how he always had a hug and a smile for a visitor.  But I’m going to be selfish for a moment and take this opportunity to tell you about how Jack Brown impacted *my* life.

It was due to my being born on an Army base in Germany that Jack was known as “Opa” to his grandchildren.  When Jack and Dorothy came across the Atlantic to see their first grandchild, they were given the German names for their station.

“Opa” did with me all the things a grandfather should do with a grandson:  He taught me how to fish, and how to clean what we caught.  He taught me how to make homemade ice cream, and how to grow scarlet runner beans and tomatoes.  We built things together.  We explored the beach or the dunes or a mountain trail, and afterward collapsed in a recliner and snoozed in front of the ballgame (something I know my siblings experienced as well).  We were silly.  We were incredibly silly.

Staying with Omi & Opa during the summers of my youth, whether at their cabin in the Sierras, or their home in Florence, Oregon, are some of my fondest memories.  Weekend mornings, the smell of coffee and newsprint, sharing the bed and the Sunday comics section with two laughing grandparents and one of three consecutive dogs.

And while all of these wonderful moments do add up, what was even more powerful is the message he gave to me.  I was smart.  I was able.  I was capable of achieving anything I set my mind to.  And it didn’t matter what that was – as long as I lived worthy of life.

That is how Jack Tyler Brown impacted my life.  I will treasure his memory, just as I will miss his hugs and his laughter, and his amazing pistachio bunt cake.

A Loss.

My grandfather died this morning.  I'm still processing.  You can expect a memorial post when I can string together more than one coherent thought at a time.

Peace.

Augtober

We survived our almost 100-degree heatwave this month with a combination of two new ceiling fans (which made it possible to sleep in the hotbox known as our bedroom) and various cool beverages that may or may not have had fermented and/or distilled spirits within.  We hosted a long-overdue housewarming/summer bash, wherein I made skewers and Rae forgot to pace her intake of aforementioned spirits.  It will be awhile before we host another, but man was it fun.  Lots of friends and neighbors in attendance.

The other news this month was threefold:

Firstly, my 93-year-old grandfather took a fall and fractured his hip.  He underwent a partial hip replacement and looked like he might fully recover, but he developed an infection and his blood-pressure, which is normally low, dropped and he's not a candidate for more surgery to treat the infection.  So he's now in hospice care.  The family, as always, has circled wagons, and are surrounding my grandparents with support and love.  The grandparents just celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary this year.

Secondly, Tyler has made some pretty fundamental changes via professional medical and psychological help, including a revision to the diagnosis given by the UW Autism Clinic earlier this year.  Without going into too much detail, we now have a much more solid diagnosis and a much clearer direction for future progress.  We're all cautiously optimistic.

Lastly, my brother Matt would have turned 40 on Saturday.  Talk about your gut-punch.  Wow.

On the up-side, we finally released Arrowflight Second Edition.  It's been eight years since the first edition was released, but our fans understand I've kinda had some stuff going on...

So now we're in the last week of Summer break, and the kids go back to school as the weather turns gray and cold again.  I can't say the rain isn't welcome.  Our yard looks like a hayfield.  And with that, I will leave you with Upside Down Stretch Cat.

Post Haste

In an effort to get something up before August is completely over, take a gander at this:




The guy who put it together has made "premakes", or retro-style trailers, for a bunch of well-known sci-fi and genre films, including The Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark and Ghostbusters.  With all the recent hype surrounding the upcoming Avengers movie, I thought it apropos to start the discussion with something a bit more off the beaten track.  So there you go.

I will get an honest-to-gawd post up soon... no, really.

Student Films

As promised, here are some of my college film projects.  Please keep in mind that they were made 20+ years ago, on real, actual FILM.  Time and environment have contributed to a certain level of degradation (but that happens to us all eventually).



First up, Like Cockatoos.  Inspired by the song by The Cure, this was my second-year animation final at Mission College.  The first year, my short film The Big Surprise earned an A+ as it was the only film in the class to use synced audio.  For the second year, I expanded my scope and drew hundreds of 11x14" "cels" in the incredibly messy medium of charcoal.  Shot on 16mm, the project ran late, so I was forced to turn in a backup project for my final.  Said backup project used some of the footage from Like Cockatoos, but was a weaker piece in general, despite earning an A-.



Next, Ding Dong's Day Off.  When fellow filmmaker David Beach and I enrolled in the Film/TV program at DeAnza College, we found old Aptos High School friend Mark Cordell Holmes in our class.  Mark and his creative partner Rob Wison and I teamed up on a couple shorts.  This is the first.  Mark directed the film segment (on good old Super-8 film, transferred to pro VHS for editing) of me as the victim, freaking out when confronted by Ding Dong the homicidal clown (played by Rob).  What are you gonna do with that pie, Ding Dong?  Mark, Rob and I all appear in the video PSA segment (Mark is the Robert Stack-esque spokesclown, as well as the guy under the car).  This is by far Raechelle's most favorite thing I've ever done. /sarcasm



Last but not least, Rob's Dream.  I decided on the title after we'd turned in the project with a slightly different name.  Okay, a very different name.  Leather Biker Chicks in Bondage.  We wanted to get the attention of the class.   Shot on Super-8 in black & white for the dream sequences and color for the waking sequences, the three of us co-wrote, co-directed and co-performed in it.  We shot all over the San Jose foothills and Palo Alto, including my alma mater, Palo Alto High School, and the once-famous graffiti-covered back alley of the New Varsity Theatre, which is now a Borders Books.  In the running shot starting at about 4:06, Rob actually sat on the hood of Mark's car as I shot hanging out of the passenger side window.  Now THAT'S guerrilla filmmaking!

While in the edit bay working on Rob's Dream, I was approached by David Beach to put together some video footage to portray the television making love to its human admirer in his short film Tube.  Using nothing but soap operas, game shows and commercials, I think I managed to come up with a pretty sexual sequence of images.

In other news, while searching through the archives of mostly fire-damaged materials to put on YouTube, I ran across the raw footage of Samantha's San Francisco State film final, Kings.  I think it's all there, pending the actual tape being intact.  Sigh.  There's a long-term project if I've ever seen one.

Enjoy.

Happy Birthday to Mucha

I just wanted to post a quick message to observe the 150th birthday of the man who is certainly my favorite Art Nouveau painter and possibly one of my favorite artists in any movement.  Alphonse Mucha.  Wikipedia has a pretty thorough biography, so I won't go into historical detail.  What I will say is that Mucha was arguably at the center of a movement which successfully combined commercial art and fine art for the first time in history.  Some art historians criticize the movement as a "youth" trend or for "lowering" fine art to mere advertising design. I prefer to think the Nouveau movement elevated advertising design to the realm of fine art (and don't think fine art lost anything in the bargain).

Like Mike Myers, I tend to think art is art, either good or bad.  But to draw an artificial line between "high art" and "low art" is both disingenuous and counterproductive.

Here's to you, Mr. Mucha.  Your art continues to inspire many, and will always hang on my wall in some capacity.