October 30, 2009
Ten nights ago, I celebrated the release of my first film, TEENAGE DIRTBAG. I drank champagne.
Two nights ago, I dreamed I was driving in the daylight on a steep, winding road that had been entirely covered in snow. There was no longer any sign of the pavement, just pure white snow. I was filled with fear at every corner, but somehow, I navigated my way up this hill. I didn’t consider stopping, but even in my deepest conscience, I knew not to go too fast, or I would lose control of the car.
Still dreaming, I made a call on my cell phone to tell my husband that it would be awhile, as I could not see where I was going. When I got off the phone, I found the white snow had changed into equally white sand, with the same powdery feel, but just a little less slippery. I relaxed a little bit. White sand as far as they eye could see, but to my wonderment, I was still able to follow the narrow curves. It was like I had been there before, and knew the way.
I didn’t remember this dream until later that morning. It popped in my head the way non-scary, non-sexual dreams do: vivid but harmless. I can still see the white sand now. But where was I going? Was I alone in the car? How did it end? I don’t remember dreaming the answers to any of those questions, so I don’t know. What I do know is that it seemed like a glaringly obvious metaphor for my life in the past, the present, and more than likely, the future. I’ve never read one book on dream analysis, but I think I’ve got this one pegged.
Today, somebody close to me told me they are tired of hearing about the movie, and that making films is my deal, not theirs. Today, my distributor told me Sam’s Club ordered 5,000 copies of the DVD, which are on the shelves for sale right now. Today, I am writing my first blog, and I should have something worthwhile to say, some wisdom to impart. I do not. I am not even sure if I have been keeping the correct tense throughout this wandering, run-on thought.
The saying ‘you could fill a book with the things I don’t know’ applies here. Indeed, it’s an endless book with expansive, white, facetless pages, stretching out before me. So, let’s navigate it, shall we? Let’s fill the book (in this case blog,) with a careful account of all the things I don’t know, and maybe in the end it will produce knowledge. Maybe we will find out where it is we are going. At the very least, you and I, my fellow writer/filmmaker/dreamer, will know we are not alone in the car.
