…was Kenny’s comment as I bitched about the cacophony of cricket chirping going on in our dining room. Our apartment is an entomologist’s dream. We seem to get hit by waves of weird insect families moving in and out. First it was fruit flies. They sprang up from all over, then disappeared. We had a nasty bout with houseflies for a brief spell as well. Then there were flying ants followed by tiny moths, followed by inchworms. Now it’s crickets. WTF? I guess it’s the closest to the changing of seasons one can expect in L.A. – frankly, I’d prefer falling leaves, spring showers and a bit of holiday snow myself, but alas, it’s just bugs.
Nonetheless, today’s morning reflections are not about bugs. I merely mention them as I noticed the chirping is actually sort of pleasant over the noise of rush hour traffic – I feel almost serene,
though I think it’s perhaps more likely due to yesterday’s spontaneous group therapy session.
Anchorage film fest friends Natalie and J had a 12-hour layover in L.A. en route back to Australia yesterday and, conveniently, Agustin happened to fly in at the same time from back east. It was almost like another stolen day in Alaska only with far warmer temps. A good portion of it was spent walking, sitting at tables, drinking, eating and sharing thoughts, hopes and dreams.
We’re all in a similar place – sending our newborn babies off into the world whilst simultaneously contemplating the conception of the next baby. It was nice getting a bonus day of the Anchorage Festival experience right here in L.A. Away from the fray of the fest itself, we had the chance to talk about where we’re at now and what’s next. It was also fun to enjoy the “magic of Hollywood” along the walk of fame through the fresh eyes of somebody to whom it still represents a symbol of a dream, rather than a place in which one often finds herself stuck in standstill traffic. It seemed exciting again. As it should. It’s Hollywood after all – hooray for it! Didn’t most of our dreams begin here in one way or another?
One of my very first chats with Nat and J was about the movie Lost in Translation and somehow it wound up also being part of the last chat before we said our goodbyes at the airport. Funny how that movie comes up so often, but among kindred spirits it’s practically like our bible. I can’t tell you how many people I know who use it as a gauge to determine whether or not they’re likely to connect with somebody they just meet. I’ve been guilty of it myself. So many people have complained that the movie is “about nothing” and each of us, we discovered, has independently responded, “But it’s about everything!” It also seems to serve as a nice reminder of how we live and why. What’s next, we all decided, is that we should all revisit that film, then have a nice Skype chat and plunge into the next project. What a fun, yet simple plan. And I think it might just work.
There is no right or wrong in this world, no black or white. As wonderful as that is, it can also be lonely sometimes when you think you are the only one to have a certain experience or think a certain way. Fortunately, anyone who believes such things is sorely mistaken. Nobody is really so very special or unique and that is also a wonderful thing. 
It means we are never truly alone. And there is no greater gift than finding those who remind you of that fact, those who can share such experiences.
Thanks Natalie, J and Agustin for being truly amazing friends. After a couple days of muddled mind syndrome, clarity is finally returning. And when it starts to fizzle away again, I know just where to find you and you always know where to find me. Art is life, life is art and both are best served with a margarita on the rocks (with or without salt) and good friends!