Day: March 17, 2011

Somewhere early on in my life, a story was embedded in my subconscious, and it had to do with being resentful, feeling neglected and enraged. People controlled me, failed me, abandoned me.  I have perceived as being controlling  or dismissive have always sparked an almost obsessive rage in me. It was Mary Muncil, the minister who married Maria and I and my spiritual counselor and a good friend who was kind enough to tell me that I was sometimes stuck in this story, something of a victim and struggle story, and needed to let go of it if I wanted to have a spiritual life. Which I do.

I sputtered and fumed and circled around, and said I needed to understand it, and sometimes in life you have to fight, and I don’t know, and Mary leaned over and smiled and said, “all you need to do is let go of it and stop telling it.” And the realization just stunned me, and changed me, as I never saw it before. This week, someone I thought was controlling and dismissive sent me into one of my steaming and wounded states, and it was Mary again who caught this and reminded me that I was still telling that old story.

Go higher, she said. Just don’t tell that story, even to myself. Not even in the car or on a walk. And I could see that she was right. My anger had nothing to do with the person I was fussing over, and I let go of it.  And the things I was worried about just melted away.

The idea of spirituality, more relevant every day in America, I think, is not about finding absolute peace and calm. It’s about recognizing the parts of life and of us that keep us in places we don’t want to be. And resetting ourselves, stopping, recognizing our damaged parts. And letting go of those stories. I will never quit working on this. I am getting closer. I will never be done with it. That’s it, I think.

I saw the sun coming up over the Dairy Barn yesterday and so I had this impulse to take all four dogs out and visit the donkeys, which we did. And the donkeys came down to see what was happening, the closest they’ve ever come to Frieda. And she was calm around them. I think these animals have a gentle and loving spirit, and over time, have become a community here. I’ve only had one animal ever harm another animal.

That was Winston, Jr., the rooster who attacked and nearly killed his father, Winston. And he is no longer with us.

Visionary Dave Bigler. He saw it all coming.

I went to Dave Bigler’s Production Company in Saratoga today for a three hour lesson on video techniques. I have a lot of work to do. Terry Leahy gave me a great lesson and took me out into Congress Park and he and Dave each played being a dog at some point, and the lesson was great.

I learned about wide openings, how to use the tripod, B-rolls and cutaways.  About mixing frames, changing perspectives, tightening scenes and angles. Good stuff, all true. I sensed some of this.

Mostly I learned that I am not yet doing too much right, although Terry thought I was good on composition and visual sense. Sounds familiar. I used to work in television and heard some of these same terms, but I rarely ever think about television (I was executive producer of the CBS Morning News for a couple of years).

I like some of the newer videos, but I want to take a breath or two until I figure it out. And technology, as usual, is helping me do that. I took a bunch of video in Saratoga, but when I got home, I found the camera wouldn’t load them onto Imovie, or Imovie wouldn’t accept them from the camera. Shut down, frustrated.

I think we messed with some setting or another. I couldn’t call Apple because they are overwhelmed with calls for the new Ipad2.

This is the story of technology, right? But the lessons were very useful, very helpful and I can’t wait to try them out. So Sara Friedman is going to call me early in the morning to see if it’s an Imovie problem, and if not, I’ll have to run the camera to Saratoga at some point and see if the Bigler wizards can figure it out.

I’ve got some homework, too, but I might be reduced to the Iphone for a few days until I can figure it out all out.

Technology, like life, tests are patience, determination and calm.

I am going back for more lessons next week. All I need is a camera. So back to stills for at least a little bit unless Sara can figure it out. I might even read the manual.

Sweet morning. Maria was sleeping late, and I went out at sunrise to feed the donkeys and the farm was shrouded in mist, and I went into the barn to move some hay and the donkeys came down out of the fog and then the camera picked up Mother, my barn cat, before I did, and I got the Panasonic out, and I caught the mystical sense of morning on my farm, and the secret life of the barn cat.

I like this use of video. Short, very evocative. Light the light and sound of the new camera. Off to video school in Saratoga this afternoon. Very exciting for me. I’ll take a video of the video training.