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I'm lying on my back. In not-quite-pure darkness.

My ears are filled with miniature lakes from the double waterfalls, one on each cheek, these steady rushes down either side.

Now I want to ask, because this is what you are always saying. How is this for honesty?

today i saw the ocean for the first time in almost a year, and there is magic in that. "on a clear day she could see forever," i whispered. my mother told me i looked like a movie star, and i smiled so real. i was in a bookstore and i saw a shelf of "franny and zooey" paperbacks and i wanted to buy all of their copies and send them to people i love, only i hadn't any money, so i couldn't. when we came home (how freely i use that word, interchangeably, like who i'm becoming) we were greeted by smashed little pug faces; they have the softest ears you know.

this day, i'm astonished, still, at the ability of conversing with a beautiful-minded friend on the opposite side of the globe and brilliant rage meeting through signals in the air.

i want to be a real writer someday.
what do you want to do?

maybe if you'd gone to my school.
oh, i miss so many things, don't you?

sometimes i dream i'm back in our old apartment. i wake up and i don't know where i am. and i think, why can't i just run outside?

doesn't it make you miserable, being so dependent on other people?

oh - you can see the moon from here. just like you said.

i wouldn't go back to being her for the world.

you sure know a lot about yourself, don't you?

maybe if i had your drive.....

there's nothing wrong with being kissed, you know.

who cares what they'd say.
everything's different now, here.

do you really think it's ours?

tomorrow night? you'll come?

if you want me to.

yes.

i do.


---

there were the days and night everything flooded,

and the streets were covered in water.

there were the nights and day everything flooded,

and my skin was covered in water.

nothing but sunshine and dreams. (lovely.) but the sun burns, and the dreams do too, only more-so.

i remembered the word i wanted. desperately. that's it. "the girl wants it desperately."

(darling, let my letter work.)

what rules? what voice? why stop? i'm only running with scissors, after all. but you might get hurt, you warn. but i can't let go of these scissors, say i. no, not these ones. (not ever.) they're slipping from your fingers, but i've never had a tighter grasp on mine. and maybe the grasping hurts worse than if i fall.

the familiarity of my fingers twisting through hair, over, tug, across, tug, repeat. not too clean, not too neat. no orderliness here. it's the unsettled clump in the back and the short strands from the layers that haven't quite grown out poking out in the middles. two dark lines. symmetry. pattern. never looking in the mirror. my hair's getting long again, but not as long as when i spent everyday outside with dark browned skin discovering the magic plants and the hideaways.

now i'm on the other side, it's the other path, my feet are praying for boots even though deep-down, my heart still likes the feel of bare skin on ground textures. the gun in my hand, raising it to aim, the little black pony i rode for a year, the familiarity of the seduction of campfire.

perseverance determination confidence sassy real fighting stand up don't give up stubborn words that flash like broadway lights in front of my eyes, day in, day out. almost as often are the faces, the mirage from the desert thirst, the haunting.

i am true.
i've grit written under my fingernails.

I've been home since Sunday night, or to be more exact, early Monday morning.

Being away from (most) technology for almost five weeks wasn't nearly as difficult as I thought it was be, but getting on a computer again felt lovely, I'll admit. The feel of a keyboard under my fingers as I type? Wonderful.

I've been wanting to blog ever since I came back, but I haven't been able to figure out what to say or where to begin. Everyone wants to know, So how was filming? What was it like? and so on.

It was beautiful. That's one thing I can think to say.

I will post more details eventually, over here, probably. For now, though, I just wanted to whisper hello to everyone.

Hello. (this is me on set; happy)

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who liked to play make believe. She played dress up and pretend almost every single day.
The little girl's mommy would take her to see plays, and afterward meet the actors, and she was in awe. She also fell in love with movies.
One day the little girl realized, I want to do that, too.
It was a very confusing thing, this wanting to be an actor. It always is when one discovers what one is meant to do.
So she set off, head high, up this mountain. Sometimes she would fall and go rolling down the path, stubbing her toes and banging her head. Other times she would take great leaps and bounds, on fire with passion and adrenaline.
She met her best friend, who was also climbing this mountain.
Along the way were a lot of stepping stones, and a lot of crossroads. The girl (maybe not so little anymore) didn't know what path to take, what to do, how to keep climbing. She did the best she could. Every time, she did the best she could.
Each time that it got too steep and she became too tired of this path to carry on, wanting to give up but not being able to, unexpected things would come her way. God was very good to her and gave her lots of blessings. Here a play, there a short film, here a musical, there a workshop....
"My next goal is to be a lead in a play," she said one day.
That year, she was cast as the title character in a play.
"My next goal is to be a lead in a musical," the girl said next.
The very next year, she was.
Now it's the next year. The girl's next goal is to be in a movie. She's dreamed about that, wanted that, her whole life. A real, live, feature-length movie.

And she is.


(be back in a month, lovelies. xoxo)

1) applied for a passport

2) purchased a high-quality wig

3) packed for a long-term trip

Hmm . . . I'll leave the question of whether or not I'm a convict on the run up to you, the reader, to decide. I mean, I'd tell you, but then I'd have to . . . well, you know.

....when, sprawling on the lawn, I smell a mix of lotion and new grass. I take pictures of the long, bright green blades of life. I think about reading Frankenstein, but write pretty words in my journal instead.

The heat from my friend the sun is toasting my arms and legs, and my thoughts are like cigar smoke, floating in the air - thick and swirly and clear. I can see so much, and it doesn't matter that I'm behind on a million things, or that deadlines are about to pounce on me, or that my world is all stirred up in a blender right now. I can be.

Just
be.

I feel really rich right now. And thusly, grateful.

As my good friend Cuileann would say, Life is whelming.

Today was a fitted jeans and pink high heels sort of day.

Sinking my teeth into rich, sweet shortbread.

Thinking in a British accent.

Discovering that Seb from The Year of Secret Assignments has a blog! Okay, not really. But if he did have a blog, this would be it. The voice is perfect. (I also have a friend who writes emails in the exact voice of Emily from said book. She is not who I would've pinpointed as being an Emily, but once I thought of it, I couldn't get over how spot-on her writing + herself is as a match.)

The requisite ritual of going crazy at the lunch table.

Barefeet and t-shirt-wearing! IT IS SPRING (aka one of my two favorite seasons) and I am hereby IN LOVE WITH THE WORLD.

A phone call with happiness.

Taking pictures of people when I think they're not looking. So far, I have not been caught. This is because of my ninja skillz, which I assume everyone knows about by now? Yes? Good.

Cupcake throwing.

So in love with flickr. Such stark loveliness to be found.

Is it junk mail if it comes with a bookmark? On a similar note, I discovered a fondness for hot pink envelopes addressed to "Miss McIntosh." (There was also something addressed simply to "Erin." Just the first name. That means I'm famous, no?)

A happy dance to "Fidelity" by Regina Spektor.

Fresh salad that crunches under my teeth.

People. Beautiful beautiful people, who fill my world with brightness and light and love. I heart you.

I am just exploding with laughter and giant smiles and hope and inspiration and looking-forwardness. "Hopeless; head over heels in the moment."

FINISHED ANOTHER ONE!

Once again I defied the laws of time and space and managed to find an opportunity to complete the second piece in my monsters chasing a kid series. I think the next one I do is going to feature the gang on top of a train, though I haven't started work on it yet. As far as this snow one goes, I kinda like it. I think the kids outfit is good, and I like the composition for the most part.

Hope everyone enjoyed the Easter holiday. I spent it with my wife and her family, which always provides for more than one awkward moment, but then I guess that's what families are for, right? Awkward moments I mean.

The four year old daughter of my wife's cousin was asked to give me a hug by her mother but instead she took one look at me, put her hands over her eyes, then proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs "NO! SCARED! SCARED! SCARED!"

Everyone laughed.

You know...because apparently I'm scary.

Steve~

... cultural organizations to offer exhibitions and programs around the theme of “Open Books.” This collaboration will provide many opportunities to consider the art of children’s book illustration and literature from many perspectives; to enjoy films based on popular children’s books; to see original art work from favorite authors and discover the work of less familiar artists; and to engage in a summer of rich reading. Collaborative offerings include the Katonah Museum of Art’s exhibition Children Should Be Seen: The Image of the Child in American Picture-Book Art, the Hudson River Museum's exhibition Building Books: The Art of David Macaulay, the Westchester Arts Council’s exhibition Seeing Stories: How Picture Book Artists Imagine, which highlights Westchester artists and is curated by KMA Trustees Yvonne Pollack and Jerry Pinkney; the Westchester Library System's summer program Get a Clue @ Your Library; and a series of films adapted from children’s books at the Jacob Burns Film Center. Each participating organization will offer visitors a pass that will entitle them to free admission or a member discount at the other locations.