On the Street Where You Live

Once upon a time, in a land of pastoral backdrops and toothpicks that served more to pick between phantom teeth that were no longer there than to promote healthy gums, I was rescued from selling flowers on the corner, singing about choc-o-lates and warm, comfy ‘airs, by a man trying to win a bet.

Or I fell in love with my high school crush and moved to New York City to pursue my dream of filmmaking by attending that place that produced great filmmakers like Scorsese, Stone, Lee, and Shylaman. Choose your own adventure.

At any rate, I graduated, tried to make it in television, realized that I wanted to make movies instead, and have been piling on the debt for that dream ever since.

My perspective on entertainment is no more valid than yours, I am sure, but I am honored to be here among dear, old friends and new writing pals. I am greatly indebted to two of my colleagues on this site: Nathan James produced my first feature Traveling, and without his tireless efforts, I would not be the filmmaker I am today. And David McGinnis, our Cobb, has been, and will continue to be (fingers crossed) the editor that makes all of my films soar. Or sing. Or watchable.

Currently in post-production on my second feature and in pre-production on my third, I hope to find this time with you, Dear Reader, as a ride we will both find comforting.  An escape.  A Steve (Terence, not 12 Years a Slave)McQueen flick on Spike on a Sunday afternoon when the Cowboys have already lost. Again.

I am really hoping that I was not asked to contribute the “female perspective….” Because I have no idea what that means…I’m a Doctor Who, Joss Whedon, Sofia Coppola, Chris Hardwick, Alexander Dumas, Stuff You Missed in History, Cate Blanchett, enthusiast. Does that help?

Because I live and breathe stories, I try to soak up as much around me, new voices and pictures, and I hope that you’ll stop by on Tuesdays and Thursdays to read my jumbled thoughts on what I’ve seen, read, or escaped-to that week. Please. So the voices in my head will stop screaming at me to shut up.

Allons-y, Alonso.

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