Cutting through the static...

There was a year called 2008. And it went by so fast that no one actually remembers seeing it. Those who lived through it recall it like a foggy dream... wisping around on the edge of the ether. But it went so fast.

I have been neglecting this blog for any number of reasons. None are good. But then that's how it goes. I have, in the past month, taken strides towards a creative endeavor that is awesome as it is demanding. But demanding like a lover worth having. Any relationship is give and take. Even in art.

So as I furiously plow through scene after scene and shot after shot of "Separation Anxiety" the movie, I stop this morning to look around. And maybe catch a glimpse of 2008 before it shuffles off its mortal coil.

Creatively, it was glorious. I directed two well-received stageplays. I wrote 10 ten minute plays. Saw three of them produced with the birth of my own theatre company (partnering with two amazing playwrights in the process).

My full-length play "Separation Anxiety" saw itself staged in a workshop production (as my second show to make the Curtain Players Playwrights Festival).

I won a national writing award. They printed my essay in a collection.

And I adapted "Separation Anxiety" into a film script, shot a trailer for it, and plan to film it in the fall of 2009.

And yet for all that, I feel like there's more to do. That 2009 will have to top my acheivements to make it worth it. Is that foolish, or is it intrepid? A finer line was never drawn.

The year also brought about some turning points in the lives of my friends and family. My sister married and I gained a brother-in-law, and soon will have a nephew to spoil. Loved ones lost jobs, homes, and any sense of stability in this stressful economy. Saw relationships coming and going, solidifying and crumbling. Flirted with a chance to connect and let another slip away. Friends moved for amazing opportunities and while excited and happy for them, I still feel the void their departure has created in my day to day. I celebrated two years with my company, quietly and without pomp. Or circumstance. And I watched my family come together to mourn the passing and celebrate the life of my grandmother -- a loss that I've yet to come to terms with.

Perhaps that's why I haven't blogged. Here. My latest entries can be found all over at I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin' - the blog I started to catalog the creative pursuits in my life. Or perhaps you'll read me over at the Separation Anxiety Blog, geared completely to the film (and on which I'm one of three authors). Those are the blogs where I can focus on the creative side. The hard work. The things that keep me busy and running on the ragged edge as long as my body can stand it.

Not here. Where emotion lives. Where the thoughts dance around in nostalgia and evade portions of my reality which still sting when touched. As I don't want to become utterly morose, I avoid popping in to blog since this past month -- when you strip away the "busy," the caked on festive grins, this hat or that hat I'm wearing or whatever I'm doing to just keep moving -- I'm quietly screaming. Crying. Aching from the gaping wound that's slow to mend.

There's a hole in the world.

I thought I knew... but I think I only truly realized in these past few days the full magnitude of how much my grandma's presence impacted my life. It's one thing to "know" it. Another to feel it when it's ripped away from you. To be driving home from the mall and be overcome with anger for no reason other than because you feel different. Altered. Being alone with your thoughts and -- it's not a sense of not recognizing myself... no, that's not it. It's more like... something's gone. I lost a piece of me in that hospital room when the count went to zero. When the quiet took over... I can see the thestrals now.

So if I've been somewhere else, that's a good guess as to why. I'm not distant because I'm busy. I'm busy because I'm distant.

Thanks for listening. For someone who talks as much as I do, it never ceases to amaze me how much more I can say with the written word than I ever could articulate in speech. As most people do, I have my slew of resolutions for 2009. One is to get back to this blog. The rest, I'm sure you'll hear about if that one sticks.

Happy New Year.