This is my *very first* interview as a writer-director, and 😮💨😮💨😮💨….
I really like the writer whose podcast this is, so when she asked me for an interview I jumped to do it. But then, I thought ‘Wait a minute… do I know how to do an interview?”
Well, it’s done now. In the end it was like just talking with a young friend.
When my mother was on her earthly journey, she’d watch cooking shows back to back.
I was always a bit annoyed when I visited, wanting to change the channel from these toxically chipper people having nothing but fun cooking, not a hint of real life foibles in sight.
Well through out life, I’ve been taxed with taking care of myself. And being a bit of a foodie myself, the making of a dish would capture my attention from time to time.
These days I liken myself a very tasty cook, and it’s the chore I spend the most amount of time on.
So now, I willingly give cooking instruction videos in my feed a chance.
Which is how I found “Kay.”
Kay…. prepares the most exquisite meals… and characteristically does so through a darker lens than the vast majority of chefs you may encounter on social media. She is the Edgar Allen of bunch.
And most times seems genuinely taken with her process, not you.
Important because I want to think my own thoughts, and have my own experiences with what I’m watching. I don’t want to feel pressured to feel like the chef is a chum.
Her process is enough.
It’s already the best and highest bar for what it is.
This is a great time for writing, for escaping it all. And I have escapes from my escapes.
Right now, I’m penning an anime series alongside a last rewrite of a live-action feature film. But it took foreeeeeeever to get started writing it, because I didn’t really know how to structure one. I wasn’t too sure what the needed elements might be… but… funny thing… I forgot I started as an animator. I went the flip book, animation focus in high school, major in college route, before falling in love with live action filmmaking and betraying animation (my first love lol).
So I do have some idea how to create dynamic scenes. And I’ve been working on storytelling for so long now – I hope I know how to tell a good one by now.
But you know what the most surprising thing is so far? It’s fun!
It’s not the primary genre I work in, so I feel like I have alot of room to play and mess up. Do whatever.
I woke up from a dream Friday morning, slowly recalling details I would have never remembered. I rarely remember my dreams anymore, but I remembered – THIS.
I’m trying to save a little girl from assassins who are coming, and have been attempting to kill her. Killing everyone in their wake (I’ve seen bodies of dismembered cops along the roadside of the first location in the dream ). Tons of other cops are out and about, trying to solve the mystery of who has done this and why. All taking place outside some kind of station – bus, maybe train.
I near the station carrying this little baby girl I’ve just saved, in my arms. Apparently coming here because cops are everywhere and I knew it would slow the assassins down. I spot a cop sitting in a van who looks like he must have some authority and rush over to get his help. But there are others waiting to get his attention standing around outside the van. He gets out of the van while still on his phone, moving for another section, full of cops itching to speak with him (while ignoring us all). Instead he focuses on pushing a button or flipping a switch inside a booth there. While… still on his phone.
Now I am getting annoyed and angry, because I’ve told him I need to talk to him (saying so when I walked up to the van). I have a distressed little child in my arms and probably look like I’ve been through the hell and he’s cooly flipping switches, and doesn’t want to talk to anyone. I blurt out an explanation of why I am here among the cops surrounding him. And this time, everyone turns to me, but then turn to discuss among themselves. And I can’t make out what is being discussed with all the competing voices.
Finally the ignoring cop turns to me with: Give the girl to me.
But I am an immediate no … I want them to help, not take the girl! I have been saving her from a killer or killers, who’ve already taken out an army of cops. Bad idea. I take off, little girl still in my arms.
I look around for other help and a place to hide, seeing little service stores lining the wall outside the station. However, they’re all closed. I focus in on one that seems to have a mustard yellow tint to the gate, thinking Maybe it’s just dusty, and is really open. I analyze it a bit, to see if I can see through the gate and if anyone is inside. I can’t see through it and it looks closed. Locked up.
So I search the premises again, but end up eyeing civilians entering the station after accepting none of the shops are open. This is our only option. So I rush over, intending to fade into the crowd with her.
All of a sudden, I’m waking up from a comfort sleep, in a big luxury bed. Rested now, but my inner knowing or a voice kicks into gear with – they’re coming.
My sixth sense or this voice tells me to go lock the front door, so I leave the bedroom and just as I reach the front door -RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG. The front door bell rings. They’re here.
I duck down so I can’t be seen through the little window at the top of the door, flip the lock. I feel a little nudge of comfort but then the voice wonders about the other doors. Warns me to check the back door. So I take off, as the assassin begins to pound on the front door, even jiggle it’s handle.
I rush through a beautifully furnished house, to find the kitchen and the back door through it. I hurry over, flip the lock. Start backing off, and the handle there begins to jiggle. Conveniently there is a cabinet structure in the middle of the floor, so I duck behind it, peeking out. The assassin peers through the little window at the top, eyes searching the room best he can. The low lighting and dirt on the window making it difficult to see. But he’s persistent and keeps searching the room. I become uncomfortable with the size of and angle of the cabinet, not sure if it will truly shield me with too much scrutiny. So I attempt to reposition myself but then his eyes find me off the movement.
We eye one another a moment and his stare seems to say I’m gonna kill you. I instantly leave the cabinet, running toward a wall in the kitchen where a phone is tacked.
I grab it, knowing it probably won’t work. Placing it to my ear anyway. It’s dead. I glance over at the back wall where the back door and a large window are, and he’s moved. The assassin backs away from the window now, having discovered it’s locked. Pacing back and forth as if trying to calm himself down, then stops to look at me, his glare seeming to say I WILL GET IN. I panic, scurrying around the room for exits (somehow in this moment I am lost in my own home). I find a solution close to the window, off the side of the kitchen. But before dash over, I have to angle some violence back at this man so I shout: I am gonna kill you.
And mean it, with every fiber of my being.
Now I make a play for a section of my home that looks like an entrance to an ancient dungeon. Complete with large rocks for the structure and a bridge you have to cross over, I venture over to my sister’s abode with the knowledge that this place is always off limits. In the dream, I have never been in it.
But now, I race over across the bridge, about to break an agreement about staying out of her place.
Suddenly, I’m inside. Hurrying down the stairs, knowing this guy will be in my home by now and coming after me. The stairs and the beginnings of the dungeon have an archaic feel, but as I progress the design seems to evolve into something more modern.
Then I see 3 black young women leaving the inner sanctum, singing and having fun. One of them carrying a baby. But he is coming and I don’t have time to figure out what they are, or what they’re doing. I think to myself, they’re probably gonna be killed by the killer, trying not to be bothered. I carry on and stumble onto a door that’s like a gate with parts needing to fit together to lock. I’m relieved to find something to obstruct the killer’s progression. Begin fastening all the parts, but it quickly becomes a little too involved and I know if I stay here locking an unlockable gate, I’ll be caught. So I leave it and run, cuz he’ll be close now.
I spot spices through the window in a door I zoom past, measured out onto little plates. Decide spices won’t help. Keep on.
I turn a corner into a new hallway, with people headed toward me so I slow. They move past casual and unbothered. And I decide to find another storage room with chemicals, cuz I can probably whip up something harmful from open chemicals! It’s a clinic, it has to have something somewhere. I get to the end of the hall, turn the corner and — I’m in a waiting room?? I see a front desk and people sitting around an open area, some holding – babies. I move into the space wondering how I am gonna do this, it’s a bunch of people and their babies, and nurses. I’m defenseless, they’re defenseless. Thoughts send me in a spin, he’s just gonna wreck havoc HERE? Can I find chemicals fast enough? Where will they even be at this point? This is where my memory ends.
This dream left me feeling very on edge for some reason.
I mean it’s a daymare and I have no idea what it means. But…
My last post is password protected because I’d like those who follow me on WordPress, or truly interested in a “Calling In The One” journey to be those who read it. It isn’t really for the general public roaming the net.
But if you’re on here (a follower) and would like to share in my journey, email me here: indevelopment21@yahoo.com
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