MCN Blogs
Kim Voynar

By Kim Voynar Voynar@moviecitynews.com

Random Thoughts from a Haze of Busy-ness

I’ve been a bit AWOL this week, not because I don’t like you, but because I’ve just been way too busy for my own good.

I’ve hit one of those life crossroads where there are suddenly a great many different paths to take, and you can see with greater clarity than usual what the possible consequences and outcomes of each choice might be, but that doesn’t necessarily help you make decisions. It’s all laid out for you like a fieldstone stepping path through an enormous garden, where this path might take you to beautiful roses that will cut you with their thorns, or that path might reveal something rich to harvest if you’re just persistent enough to hack though the weeds to get there. Or maybe you’ll just choke in the weeds and not get anywhere at all. I’ve been in this place in my life several times before and it’s just never my favorite state of introspection to be in. But on the plus side, I’d have to say most of the major life choices I’ve made when faced with such a crossroads have worked out pretty well, at least for a while.

I’ve been in a very productive writing cycle the past couple months. I just wrapped a detailed scene outline on “Script A,” which I’m co-writing with a partner (first time I’ve attempted that!), for what may end up being my first feature film. Right now it’s neck-and-neck with another, script, which we’ll call “Script B,” which I’ve been working on for a little over a year now; I had to go back and do some rework on that when I realized I’d gotten attached to some scenes that weren’t actually furthering the theme. That one is back on track now and churning right along as well.

When I write, I need to see imagery and hear music that evokes the tone I’m looking for in the film, so I’ve also been listening to particular music while working on Script A (mostly minor-key baroque, lots of harpsichord and violin) and working on my Pinterest board for this project. The way that works is, I find a ton of images that help me articulate visually what I’m seeing in my head as I write, or things I see that strike me as evoking something. I just uploaded a slew of pics from a recent location scout trip out to San Juan Island and Orcas Island, but there’s also a lot of Carravagio paintings on there because of the way that artist worked with light and shadow, and other images that are there for other reasons. It’s basically what I used to use a sketchbook for, and flipping through that board helps me get into the frame of mind for writing on that script.

In addition to that, I don’t know if I mentioned this, but back in January three of my four kids gave up on our “let’s try out regular public school” experiment and went back to the alternative learning school/homeschool resource center. My daughter Neve, 15, was able to keep her internship with SIFF’s programming department, so that’s been swell. What’s not swell is that thanks to some legislation last year and the way in which our school district is interpreting parts of it, and thanks to more legislation on the subject of alternative education in Washington coming down the pike at us, the alternative school my kids attend will either shut down next year, or if it does stay open, there won’t be much left to it. It’s being gutted.

If you know me, you know I’m not one to sit around on my laurels crying into my wineglass about a situation like this. I’m more of an action girl. For me, even the hoops we’ve had to jump through this year are trying my patience; I’m not jumping through more hoops for less. So I’ve started working on forming an independent homeschool co-op, which is cool and a lot of fun and very energizing, but is also a lot of work. I know this from years of working with various not-for-profits and I don’t know why I can’t just stop myself and say, “Ugh, TOO MUCH WORK! Don’t do it!” But I’m doing it for the same reason that my husband and I choose to co-lead the middle school youth group at the Unitarian Church, and why I volunteer my time doing fantasy makeup and hair for my kids’ youth theater: Because if I want that stuff to be available for my kids, I need to do my part to make sure it’s there. But it sure sucked away my week, what with talking to the other parents and researching options and writing surveys and proposals and having meetings.

Let’s see, what else? Well, as aforesaid, we popped over to the San Juans to take a bunch of shots and took several hundred pictures. It’s always nice to go across on the ferry, and I’m always grateful when I do so that we live in this amazing place that has islands like the San Juans so close by. I bought a Megamillions ticket on the island, too, so if that pays off I won’t have to worry about whether I actually make money doing the things I want to do. That would be nice. I might even buy one of the several small islands in the San Juans that are for sale, and move there with all the people I like to be around, if I won the lottery. Then I would let any indie filmmaker who needs an island in their film shoot on MY ISLAND for free, or perhaps for a good bottle of wine. I got nailed by a tax levy from some tax NYS says I owe from 15 years ago, which was a big freaking surprise when I routinely popped on to check my bank balance. I was invited to pitch for SIFF’s fly filmmaking competition, but my pitch wasn’t chosen (my DP, Sam Graydon, DID have his chosen, though, which is great because Sam deserves all the good things in the world).

I was rejected by two film festivals, either of which I would have been thrilled to premiere at, and that threatened to trigger a major depressive episode and brought my ability to write anything to a screeching halt for a couple days, but I spent some time chilling with my kids, took some hot baths, and watched a bunch of Dr. Who and got over it instead. I recommended a friend for a job I would have loved to have had myself, under different circumstances. I applied for a grant for parents who are working artists. I saw my stepson’s performance as a Wickersham Brother in Seussical, and we’re gearing up for a busy play season with the kids doing three separate plays — GREASE, GREASE JR (actually an edited cut of GREASE) and Beauty and the Beast. That schedule will keep us juggling through April, and then it’s time for 25 days of SIFF, woo-hoo! Plus three weeks of press screenings! Or is it four?

Look, in all seriousness, I really try not to stress out too much about any of this stuff, no matter how crazy my life gets. The important things in life are all right here around me, my family and my friends, and the rest is gravy. It all comes into balance in the end. I just need to find a better way to monetize the various things I’m doing for free right now, because if I was getting paid for all the hours I actually spend working? I could totally afford to get started shooting that next film.

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“I was 15 when I first watched Sally Hardesty escape into the back of a pickup truck, covered in blood and cackling like a goddamn witch. All of her friends were dead. She had been kidnapped, tortured and even forced to feed her own blood to her cannibalistic captors’ impossibly shriveled patriarch. Being new to the horror genre, I was sure she was going to die. It had been a few months since I survived a violent sexual assault, where I subsequently ran from my assailant, tripped, fell and fought like hell. I crawled home with bloody knees, makeup-stained cheeks and a new void in both my mind and heart. My sense of safety, my ability to trust others, my willingness to form new relationships and my love of spending time with people I cared about were all taken from me. It wasn’t until I found the original The Texas Chain Saw Massacre that something clicked. It was Sally’s strength, and her resilience. It was watching her survive blows to the head from a hammer. It was watching her break free from her bonds and burst through a glass window. It was watching her get back up after she’d been stabbed. It was watching her crawl into the back of a truck, laughing as it drove away from Leatherface. She was the last one to confront the killer, and live. I remember sitting in front of the TV and thinking, There I am. That’s me.”
~ Lauren Milici On “The Final Girl”

“‘Thriller’ enforced its own reality principle; it was there, part of the every commute, a serenade to every errand, a referent to every purchase, a fact of every life. You didn’t have to like it, you only had to acknowledge it. By July 6, 1984, when the Jacksons played the first show of their ‘Victory’ tour, in Kansas City, Missouri, Jacksonism had produced a system of commodification so complete that whatever and whoever was admitted to it instantly became a new commodity. People were no longer comsuming commodities as such things are conventionally understood (records, videos, posters, books, magazines, key rings, earrings necklaces pins buttons wigs voice-altering devices Pepsis t-shirts underwear hats scarves gloves jackets – and why were there no jeans called Bille Jeans?); they were consuming their own gestures of consumption. That is, they were consuming not a Tayloristic Michael Jackson, or any licensed facsimile, but themselves. Riding a Mobius strip of pure capitalism, that was the transubstantiation.”
~ Greil Marcus On Michael Jackson