The verdict is...

Right now the client is in with my boss, watching the video I spent all weekend editing. I rarely watch the finished product with the client; some kind of client relationship thing.

So I'm sitting here, blogging and biting my nails, listening to the program next door. And the verdict is...?

[Updated] Our parking lot looked like a Lexus dealership as the President and Ceo and all the other upper management crowded into the viewing room. I could hear the video next door, and heard them laugh when they were supposed to laugh and cry when they were supposed to cry (well, maybe not cry.) Anyway, they liked it. A few minor changes last night and cut it to a DVD. It'll be shown to a group of 400 tonight.

Reality tv

I find that one of the hardest things for me to do when I'm creating a video is to leave my ego and own way of doing things behind. This short historical program that I've been editing has created some tension between my boss and me. I've been trying to make a real dramatic piece, and he is always asking me to tone the mood down. Less dramatic, more "corporate."

Yesterday I caught a few mintues of a PGA golf tournament and one of their human interest stories and realized that my boss was right. The two-billion dollar corporation I'm creating this program for doesn't want the history of their company portrayed as it really was (I'm having to airbrush out some employees pictures who made problems). They want a glossy showpiece to motivate and inspire, without the dirt.

And so I will give them what they want. They are my client and they should get what they pay for. The world doesn't want the truth. And I have to admit; it makes my editing alot easier.

Saturday at work

Saturday morning. I'm editing a historical documentary for one company and another video for a trade show. A little overwhelmed. Pablo P. said that boundaries are the playground of creativity. I don't think he ever worked in the corporate world.

Back to it.

Chained to the desk

The perfect storm. Projects all due on the same day. Enjoy your hamburgers and your bratwursts. Remember me as I sit in the cave of editing Inferno. Save me a hot dog.

Addicted

I've got yet another addiction. Silvi has really been responding to my voice the last two weeks, giving me huge smiles when she hears me call her name.

I'm addicted to those smiles. More powerful than a line of coke or slice of strawberry cheesecake. Now I understand why parents will humiliate themselves to no end; they're chasing the smile.

I've got to have my morning fix.

Rainy, cold weekend

Annie and I have been hanging out in the house all day, playing with Silvi and watching movies. In addition to the Metallica documentary, we watched "National Treasure" with Nicolas Cage. Not his best film, but entertaining for a rainy saturday afternoon. If you're in the mood for a Cage film, though, I would recommend "Amos and Andrew."

Whisper

"Some people will believe anything if you whisper it to them," says Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno.

A whisper is intimate.

It requires that your mouth be next to the ear of the other. Close enough to smell the other, to see the beautiful imperfections that make her human. A whisper requires one person to be still, to allow the other's muted words to float in the silence.

A whisper requires trust.

Trust to allow the other to penetrate sacred space. To chance an embrace.

Walk with me, weary traveler, to stand next to Elijah on that holy mountain, and listen to the whisper of God.

Unsatisfied

"Love seeks with fury, through the medium of the
beloved, something beyond, and since it finds it not, it
despairs."

Miguel de Unamuno

Spring fever

Wicked busy day. Everyone in a foul mood. TV commercials are late. Radio spots are missing. CD training project is two weeks behind schedule.

I just want to go for a walk around the lake.

Maria and Michael Moore

Michael Moore needs to learn something from first-time director Joshua Marston. I watched Maria Full of Grace last night, and was impressed with Marston's careful handling of such a sensitive subject as the drug war. Marston graduated with a degree in Politial Science, and could have easily made a preachy, in-your-face anti-American drug policy film. What he created instead was a subversive story that slowly seeps in and changes you without your being aware of it. He gets you to lower your defences enough for his message to be remarkably effective.

Failed to summit

Annie and I failed to summit Mt. Everest yesterday. The first trip to the mall with Silvi. We thought we were prepared. We had all the gear: Diapers? Check. Wipes? Check. Little hat? Check. Emergency flask of Jack Daniels for dad? Check.

We had trained for this day. Last week, we climbed El Capitan, with an outing to a French coffee shop. It was a flawless evening out. Silvi slept, well, like a baby. Annie and I thought we could go anywhere. We were ready for Mt. Everest. And we nearly perished.

It was that blasted little hat. As Silvi sat in her car seat, riding backwards, that little hat worked itself down over her eyes. And she absolutely hates that. From our angle, we couldn't figure out Silvi's frustration, so we continued to climb, hoping she would eventually fall asleep. That was not the case. We finally pulled over to calm her piercing shrieks, where we discovered her wicked hat. Exhausted, we got drive thru at McD's and headed back to base camp. Maybe next weekend.

Or the one after that.