So, here I am again. on the BLOG machine for my faithful loyal readers (i.e. me, myself and i)
Last nite I met a poet at a cinema cafe to discuss making a new film. I witnessed this poet on Open mike nite at the Cornelia Cafe and was inspired and moved by a poem read titled, "Woodcutters'. it immediately made me sad, romantically suicidal, and cinematically moved. it clicked right then and there and one voice inside my head said to another voice inside my head:
"hey joey, you just finished making a film about a ballet dancer. Good job. You made a film about that college girl who went missing. c'mon joey, smell the coffee! You MUST make your next movie about poetry! You MUST try one last time to prove the critics wrong and show everybody just how soft your marshmellow heart can really be. DO IT! introduce yourself to Ms. Woodcutter and put her into your next docu-fessional and give her the privaledge to mimic your own wrestless issues".
"OK. OK". said the other voice. "Stop yelling at me! Damn, you are so domineering. I will. relax. Geez."
So we met. She is into astrology and wanted to know what time I was born, and the month ( i then called my mother in Florida and learned it was at 2am. I hung up my cellphone call and kept talking to the poet lady again) The poet said that she writes alone and at dawn in her quiet kitchen daily with a Virgin Mary candle lit. She explained to me that she healed a cherry tree by the Hudson river by transferring energy into it (and promised me that this river is not as gross as I feel it is). She admires poets Lorca and Wright, and told me Lorca was shot by a firing squad during the Spanish Civil War (hummmm, maybe I will include a shooting in the film, we'll see). She said I reminded her of a woman friend who is NOT a poet. She asked me if she reminded me of anyone, I said yes...MY MOTHER. She said I was funny and called me a "Wild Card". that will stick to me till the day I drop dead. I have never been called a Wild Card. I thought I was a simple person who doesn't go out of the house that much. After she left and we agreed to a second meeting to discuss our film, a film in which she claims should include "silence" (i agree!), I saw another person. A person who has known me for years. I told this person that I was told I was a "Wild Card". This person agreed. Then told me, "has anyone ever told you that you act and talk just like Heath Ledger in that Joker movie thing he just did?" I said, yeah. about 5 times, including my sister who never calls me called me the nite she saw it to tell me that.
Long story short. I am making a film about poetry. I was called a "wild card". I guess Heath Ledger's Joker character was a "wild" card. And now he's DEAD. Wow. and GOLLY. What an interesting way to begin to process of making a movie about poetry. JOKERS WILD. But then this third voice pops up inside my head and reminds me of the embarrassing truth, "JOEY SHUT UP. YOU DON't KNOW HOW TO PLAY CARDS. ONLY MONOPOLY".
lord have mercy on me. And all three of us.
love,
akame
