Meet the Producer

Two Sundays ago I sought solution from composition. I went out and took a few hundred photographs.

My initial goal was to hit King Street Station and, although I did eventually make it down there, I had several stops along the way.

I ended up at Pike Place Market thinking, “Why am I here? I don’t really have that much of an emotional attachment to this place.”

I ended up at a local artist’s jewelry stand. She’s had the same location for 35 years. I was immediately drawn to an amber rectangular ring.

She laughed.

“Amber brings you peace and calm. You need this right now.”

I paused.

“You have big things on the horizon and you can do it. You need to relax, though.”

“Okay. You have my attention and you’re obviously a damn good salesman.”

Chuckles. Giggles.

“Just an old lady who knows what she sees.”

I bought the ring – a going away gift to myself.

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Then I ended up at Elliot Bay Book Company. I immediately started taking pictures: books, lines, and words.

I noticed this guy watching me, smirking. He didn’t have the “I’m going to hit on you energy” more arty-hippy-laid back kinda “gets it” energy.

He approached me.

“May I ask what you’re photographing?”

“Everything actually. It started a couple weeks ago – I just started seeing composition everywhere and I can’t stop capturing it. And I’m a writer so to be in a bookstore taking pictures is kinda like my best afternoon ever.”

Cut to: the fact that he’s a local producer who needs a solid screenwriter for a feature rewrite.

Cut to: him totally understanding the creative oasis that I’m in right now.

Cut to: him attaching me to the project.

Cut to: me flying down to San Francisco this weekend to get some quality face time with the original writer.

Cut to: an ETA of preproduction rolling out (in Seattle) six months from now: September. September is when the TV show wraps production.

Cut to: bliss.

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Here’s where it gets crazy.

That night after dumping the 300 pix, Adam pulled up an ottoman and we hit play to see the virginal, pre-edit capture.

And then it rolled by.

“Whoa. Did you see that?” he asked.

He stopped the eloquent iPhoto display and clicked on a singular image. And there it was: captured above the main entrance to Pike Place Market was a giant green banner that read “Meet the Producer.”

I never saw it. (It’s posted under my myspace pics.)

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Initially I saw it as the quirky premonition that I was about to meet this local producer.

Then I realized it might have been about meeting myself. It looks as though there’s a strong chance that I might be able to get a D.P friend of mine attached to the feature. I’ve immediately gravitated towards more responsibility with the project.

And then, of course, is the TV show.

Cut to: me realizing that I’m evolving – not only into a writer, but into a producer, too.

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On the side:

My Oscar party was a total bust. Original Writer called beforehand and I ended up working thru most of the night. It was great actually. We barely watched the Oscars b/c we were both too busy writing. (adam & I were too busy writing – each on our own projects = this is a good thing!)

That, and a lot of our friends are currently, what I’m calling, “afraid of us.” Sometimes it’s hard for me to relate to the fact that not everybody understands.

On the side II:

I’m finding that my favorite thing to write in is part pajamas/part outerwear like a stocking hat or a scarf.

On the side III:

I’m drowning in post its.

On the side IV:

Sasquatch line-up includes: Interpol, Arcade Fire, Dandy Warhols, I would assume Death Cab will be there…

This year, man I think I can make it – I think I may actually find myself in town – but I gotta say, I won’t be a bit disappointed if I happen to find myself elsewhere…

On the side V:

My Bel to the Baines lease expires at the end of March. wow & damn. I can truly say that I am going to miss the living hell outta living in this building.

A final On the side:

Happier pic of me coming soon – had to put “exhausted & determined” up for awhile. By this weekend I predict “relaxed & full of laughter.”

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