Do-Ray-Fa-So much better than this week.

This week has been hectic, but someone tuned me into this great event that lifted my spirits. I at first thought it was Improv Everywhere, but found out it is really a PR stunt for a Belgium reality tv series. At any rate, the video is below, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

-Katche

When I Need You…

I am home.

Coming home feels like this, every time.

a peanut butter and fluff sandwich.

done with filmming, still have: study for communications midterm, write paper for domestic violence law, interview domestic violence law teacher for newspaper article, pick up external hard drive from best buy. pack.

needed: coffee. a peanut butter and fluff sandwich. a foot massage.

-Katche

Whisked Away

Here is what is going on in my life: paperspaperspapersteststestspaperspapersstudystudystudytestsreadreadreadpaperpaperpapertesttesttestteststudytest…MIDTERMS.

And I know this is no dignified entry, but at least it explains my inactivity for the past while. There is a post coming soon about WATCHMEN!! But alas I am still too excited to write about it.

Meanwhile, at Chick University, the stress my friends feel is apparent on their faces; I worry that I too look terrible in this way. I am pretty sure that I do, because I am very pale, and have a tendency to acquire dark circles under my eyes when I have not slept.

The rough-and-tumble girls I found in September are becoming so serious about their work that I worry at some point, I will have to break up a massacre/fight/tornado of estrogen in the hallyway. I love them so dearly, and of course, you KNOW that I am just as stressed out and bitchy as the rest of them (there is nothing wrong with being bitchy as long as you don’t lose friends over it), in this last week before spring break I hope we are able to be as supportive to each other as possible.

Speaking of which, I will be home on Friday; which is the only thing making this hectic life I lead worth it. I shall fly into O’Hare, be picked up by my boyfriend in a horse-drawn carriage and whisked away to my fairytale kingdom.

Sort of. JD is coming to pick me up, and we are going to dinner, but we will inevitably end up at my house where I will be SO DELIGHTED to see my wonderful family. They are who I miss the most. And I don’t think I missed them this much before I returned from Christmas Break. Somethin in there has made this winter long and dreary; but it has also made me grateful for the loving parents and siblings I have waiting for me in Chicago.

Ok, break is over. Back to work. and more work, and more…good news: at Best Buy I was able to find a 640G Western Digital External Harddrive for $100! So that’s something.

-Katche

I can’t remember how old I was when my train of thought…

Today two horrifically great things happened:

1. A belated birthday package arrived for me in the mail, containing 20 (19 + 1 for good luck) stamps, pretty PRETTY notecards, $20, and a wonderful card.

2. I got a plane ticket HOME for Spring Break! I am a little worried at:
a. Flying home on Friday, the 13th.
b. Going home when I have SO MUCH work to do here.
c. Ending up in Chicago only to find that everything has changed.

It’s also weird that I am writing in outline format. I can’t remember how old I was when my train of thought became outlines, folders, desktop items. When did I stop thinking about colors and began thinking of shapes, lines? Now it’s all subconscious but I catch myself sometimes, drawing. When did I stop seeing a tree and start seeing Global Warming, recycling commercials, and charcoal outlines of things I realized I would never be able to reproduce on paper?

The other night, I spent 4 hours shooting my film, and another 3 or so helping a friend shoot hers. I know I was nervous before, but at some point, probably with the camera, crooked and just under my elbow, laying at an angle that cranks my neck to one side, watching my friends-turned-actors reherse that made me realize: this is great.

I want to do this forever.

Because here, I see colors, not lines, and ideas and concepts and somehow…it’s like something I lost. And found. And now I get to keep it. And that, is a good day.

-Katche

Exhale Art

I am scared to begin shooting tomorrow. I know that I have all of the equipment, a DVX Camera, a light kit, boom pole, mic, XLR cable, headphones…tape…tripod…

It’s my first project as a college student, but more, it’s my first project as an ACTUAL director. It is hard taking responsibility for your life. The second I set up the shot, yell “quiet on the set!” and begin shooting my 5 minute project: that’s it. That is the moment of truth, and I am terrified.

For years all I have wanted to be was a filmmaker, a director, once more a FEMALE DIRECTOR. It has been a fantasy; like a car, or a dirty-rich Italian vineyard owner, or my own island. Something that always seemed so far away and impossible that it was safe to think about. But here I am, awake, writing, editing, wondering WHEN my 160GB External Harddrive will arrive in the mail. What do I do?

What do I do. What if I am no good at this? I already feel I am not. I think that the harder question is, What if I am good at this? Following your dreams is tough, it’s like love. It’s loving yourself and who you are with and what you are doing enough to take a step back and figure out what is worth giving up. In a field that most people chuckle at (like filmmaking or writing) the lack of support can really get you down when you are down. And in debt. And creatively blocked.

My backup plan is a lawyer, or maybe a presidential speech writer (for the next Obama?). Those “serious” careers were always interests of mine but they never gave me the rush of framing a shot, of writing poetry, of teaching others how to white balance, or edit, or composing a shot. One image can change the world.

One image, from one person, can change the mind, of one person. And if you think about the power of language, and color, and placement, and letters, emails, blogs, virtual worlds, youtube, facebook…all I can think of is Iraq, of Sierra Leone, of free elections, of cancer, of racism, of divorce, of boys and girls and freedom and love. Ideas and images; that is the kind of difference I want to make.

Someone once told me that I should do one thing every day that terrifies me; and that if I am scared I am probably headed in the right direction. She said to never be complacent, and that it would all be worth it in the end. Because the end is just the ability to look back, and be proud of the choices you have made.

50 years from now I want to say that I had the courage to pick up that camera, that I had the skills and the intuition to really create something–that if all else after this project has failed, I will have 5 minutes captured of a time, where I breathed in truth, and exhaled art.

-Katche.

Happy Birthday, Katche

Happy Birthday Katche!

crazy things, work out for the best.

Crazy things have been happening recently.

For one, JD came to visit, as in, he drove on 24 hours worth of road to spend three days with me.

Then, I was swamped with homework (not so crazy, right?) but the magical thing was is SOMEHOW I got it all finished. On time.

And on Friday I did a terrible terrible thing, I set the wrong alarm. So I woke up just in time to miss my only class for the day. It was awful, I hate missing classes.

Finally, an ex-boyfriend found me, we talked for a while until he asked if we could ’still be friends.’ and I realized that, it was just too late. that I did not miss him in the ways I miss my friends who are away at school. that it is most deffinitely over. really.

People have been falling in love recently, those of my friends already in love have had it reaffirmed, and those who were barely looking have just found something. Maybe not the best thing, but something. It makes me wonder how casually we flow into and out of each other’s lives, which sounds crazy, but it isn’t.

So keep in mind, that even though crazy things may happen (like me finally getting to breakfast in time for a belgian waffle, only to find they were out of forks, so I had to manuver the chocolate-chip dough out of the maker using my girlish charms and a couple toothpicks), and you may not always understand why they are happening, but they do happen for a reason.

Things tend to work out for the best, I’ve found.

-Katche.

the rorschach cake.

He showed up wearing deep wash denim jeans, a green tee covered by a stripped button-down, and a winter jacket. He also locked his keys in the car. And that’s how I was first able to find him in the parking lot, a 200lbs. man, kicking the passenger-side door, yelling profanities through my cell phone. I giggled and ran over.

First embraces are hard to top. They are the, first date, airport-pickup, haven’t-seen-you-in-a-while, EXPLOSIONS of feeling and wishing and a warmth you didn’t realize you had been missing. So there are hugs, and kisses, and smiles for hours. And cooking, and eating.

It takes about 11 hours and 43 minutes to drive from Chicago to Virginia. Another 11 hours and 43 minutes to get back; and that’s how I knew that JD was completely head over Choo’s in love with me.

The weekend has been great, on Valentine’s Day, we went to Sonic, and saw “He’s Just Not That Into You” and made spaghetti and meatballs. Yet the greatest thing about V-Day was probably my gift. He made me a wonderful, Rorschach (Watchmen!) cake. I took about 20 pictures of it.

This amazing funfetti cake was decorated by HIM the genius. I was so surprised, and touched. Way better than flowers, plus, we were able to share with the whole dorm floor!

Saying goodbye was difficult. We made our rounds, to see my friends, and then it was me, walking him to the car. For the first time since I’ve met him his hands were cold. I asked him why they were so cold and he said they get cold when he is sad. But his hands being cold throw me off like the first steps from a rollarcoaster–wobbly, wrong in a way.

His hands are always warm, and big, strong. They have to be warm because my hands are usually sub-zero. He makes me feel better. and I love it. and I love him, and I love this wonderful Rorschach cake.

Love, Katche.