Hearth and Home
They're not making the movie. Since I was paid to do it I don't own it but the rights come back to me at the end of '06 and then--we'll see!
Here's a hideous little low-consciousness crime I could only confess to in an anonymous blog: I've been on the other side of this many times, and every time part of the pleasure was getting to gloat over all the other writers who didn't make the cut. So I'll take at least a part of being on the wrong side of it this time as a well deserved nyah nyah nyah.
I found out yesterday evening, kind of glomped around feeling like I had a flu coming on, which I did, took a lethal dose of zinc and Emergen-C and a 1 milligram clonopin (my wife counseled 2, but I resisted) and went to bed. Then today was more glomping around and finally a really long goodbye-cruel-world nap.
When I woke up the house was filled with voices and music. My son had come home from college with his girlfriend, they were playing the piano and singing and horsing around, and I went downstairs, and my wife had made buckwheat with bowtie pasta, an intensely nostalgic comfort food of my childhood, and brussels sprouts with lemon, parmesan and olive oil, a dish we've perfected in the course of our marriage, and the kitchen was warm, and I got hugs and kisses and hot dinner, and my son (who several years ago seemed headed for the life of a street junkie) was playing the new Bach he is learning on the piano, and everybody was talking at the same time, and I gave my wife a foot massage, and things seemed just about as good as they could be.
Here's a hideous little low-consciousness crime I could only confess to in an anonymous blog: I've been on the other side of this many times, and every time part of the pleasure was getting to gloat over all the other writers who didn't make the cut. So I'll take at least a part of being on the wrong side of it this time as a well deserved nyah nyah nyah.
I found out yesterday evening, kind of glomped around feeling like I had a flu coming on, which I did, took a lethal dose of zinc and Emergen-C and a 1 milligram clonopin (my wife counseled 2, but I resisted) and went to bed. Then today was more glomping around and finally a really long goodbye-cruel-world nap.
When I woke up the house was filled with voices and music. My son had come home from college with his girlfriend, they were playing the piano and singing and horsing around, and I went downstairs, and my wife had made buckwheat with bowtie pasta, an intensely nostalgic comfort food of my childhood, and brussels sprouts with lemon, parmesan and olive oil, a dish we've perfected in the course of our marriage, and the kitchen was warm, and I got hugs and kisses and hot dinner, and my son (who several years ago seemed headed for the life of a street junkie) was playing the new Bach he is learning on the piano, and everybody was talking at the same time, and I gave my wife a foot massage, and things seemed just about as good as they could be.
posted by Tom at 8:24 PM
3 Comments:
Tom,
It is becoming increasingly difficult to describe to you how much joy I get out of reading your blogs, along with your comments to my blogs. God is woderful, and has blessed his children with such richness of talent, life, emotion, love, and even material stuff. I imagined the scene in your house with your previously so-distraught son playing Bach on a piano with his girlfriend and your wife. Bach, first of all, played live in a house on an actual piano - wow! Then, you and your family are Jewish. I've studied you Jews quite a bit lately, and, well, just catching a glimple inside of your life fills me with the presence of God - it is very very cool. You mentioned that you knew some Architects who are poets. I would like to share a poem with you that I wrote. I wrote it a week and a half after moving to Los Angeles from Norfolk, VA:
City of Angels
Red is the color of the water in the rock here
Where the forest is far away, one is in the air.
And standing up in open air -
Where wet wind once blew, only dry dust now settles.
White is where the branches of light are leafing to.
Floating bones of the moon, up from the sea falling…
Where the shadow is now settling
A pine trees branches are hanging out horizontally.
Between the ocean and the moon spring the seraphim.
Angelic fluids are floating along in the desert…
Blood brimming in unseen hearts -
The depths of a blue-green leaf, bursting from the rock.
Have you seen black fire in brown eyes of a woman,
Shining as the sun on a smooth red skin, flowing
And curling and turning in a
Hair blowing horizontally, the pine’s branch freed?
And have you seen the white haired monk, who is walking
And gazing and piercing slowly along in the desert?
His eyes are a union
Of the white in the sky and the shadow in the branch.
His walk is the waking of the desert’s evening, rising
Where the air is opening in the dry rock’s pores
There’s a red crystal sky with a
Golden twinkle slowly turning in a walking.
Here igniting we see hot white fire burning brightly.
The birch’s branch’s pyre and the bright gull’s gyre,
Reflections on rocks sitting still
In water within, and turning to white bark or skin.
Jason Hesiak
If you are interested, there is another of mine called "South Dakota Prairie Lands" at:
http://kairos.la/ezine/
Sorry to hear that they are not making your movie. Sounds, however, as if everything will work out just fine for you and yoru family. Sounds like you've already experienced a good deal of success; also like you are very talented at what you do.
Jason
Also, do you know an Architect/City Planner named John Kaliski?
First, I'm sorry that the movie didn't pan out.
Second, I am glad that you can take it philosphically.
Third: You are absolutely right; when your family loves you, things ARE just about as good as they can be.
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