nakedjen

Convergence

The key, for those of us who festival, is not to fall prey to either the hype that is thick and floating as heavily in the air as the particulate that causes the inversion to hang over the Salt Lake Valley in those last two weeks of January nor the germs which, honestly, are EVERYWHERE and will absolutely cut you down and lay you flat and cause you to miss the film that everyone, and I do mean everyone, is talking about and that you just happen to have tickets to see.

I fell for the hype this year.  I did not fall for the germs. I don't regret that I fell for the hype simply because I at least can contribute to the conversation and I always like to be able to contribute thoughtfully to the conversation, especially about film.  I'm grateful, honestly, that I did not fall for the germs.  They were NASTY this year and those who did get them were not happy.  Not happy at all.

I feel as if I should review all the films that I saw, but honestly, the reviews of every single film screened at Sundance this year are available elsewhere and my reviews tend to be particularly personal and we all know I'm rather a strange little fairy and the fuzzy way I see film is rarely the way that others see them. 

Moments.  Connections.  Convergence. Those are the reasons that those of us who festival, festival.  I know this, I believe this, I get my soul re-charged every time I jump in and participate.  Because we all really do participate.  We're not simply observers standing on the edges, sitting in dark rooms with light flickering on the screens before us, the passionate years work of filmmakers unfolding before us, while they hold their breath and hope that we might just applaud their effort.  No, we're collectively there to celebrate, to hope together that one more story might inspire us to perhaps be an even better version of ourselves.

While I sat on a cold stone floor, in the darkest moments just before dawn, waiting for the ticket office to open, I chatted with a stranger about the films I had seen and the films he had seen.   About our lives.  Somehow the conversation became one of pornography and farming.  Bondage and GMOs.  Kink and Monsanto.  Favorite dildos and favorite seeds.  You can't make this stuff up. 

Negotiating our way down Parley's Canyon, I concoct a picnic between the front seats.  Crackers and olives and imported cheeses and arugula and beets and raw sprouted goodness.  Kombucha.  Real napkins and a tablecloth.  We're rushing from one film screening to another.  I throw my head back and cackle that we can thank all those years with Jerry for this movable feast.  If there's one thing I know how to do, it's to keep you well fed while you festival.

I woke every morning to fresh oatmeal with a plethora of delicious mix-ins and fresh squeezed beet juice.  While I was out until the wee early morning hours, my professor was keeping our home, the dogs, his son, and even me, all in one piece.  There was extra love and presents on the morning of my birthday. My professor willingly and graciously and unselfishly shared me with the festival that so fiercely claims my heart for those ten days.  I know it was not easy to do.  I love him for loving me that much.

Five films that I believe every single one of you should go see:

FRUITVALE. I gave this film a standing ovation the evening I saw it. I also said, that night, which was only the second night of Sundance, that it was possibly the best film of the festival.  It actually did win the Grand Jury Prize and the Audience Award. It is a film about humanity and how we treat the people we love as well as the people we do not even know.  You know, a film a girl like me is going to wrap her arms around and hug fiercely. Go see it.

THE MACHINE WHICH MAKES EVERYTHING DISAPPEAR.  I have no idea if you'll ever be able to see this documentary.  However, if you can. See it.  Please.  It's the most beautiful and delicate film and it literally made my own heart explode.  That's all I need to say.

DIRTY WARS. One of the most intriguing and honest documentaries I have seen in a long time. I was happy to bear witness to this film.

THE STORIES WE TELL. Sarah Polley. Her own story becomes all of our stories.  We all have a story to tell.  This is one beautiful film.  Go see it.

THE CRASH REEL. This one is really personal for me. I just think we all need to be better informed about the after effects of TBIs and how those of us who experience them might, perhaps, think differently. 

AFTER TILLER (okay, one more!)  Because I'm a doula, because I believe that this is a conversation we must continue to have, because this film was done so carefully and beautifully, I believe that everyone should see it so we can continue to keep talking about it. 

So how will I now live the next 300 odd days until the next Sundance?  I have some ideas.  There are OTHER festivals, you know?  Lots of real life living to do.  Lots of love and glitter to share far beyond the edges of film reels and the stories told on a screen.

Professor Sundance

My professor generously joined me yesterday for the first day's festivities of Sundance and he got a real taste of exactly what it means to FESTIVAL.  I think you'll have to actually ask him, but I got the feeling that he might be leaving future festivaling of this sort, the Sundance Film sort, to me.  That said, he is joining me for more madness today.  I can only say that it is a testament, truly, to how very much he really does love me. As he said to me very early this morning, "This is your festival, Nakedjen.  I'm just here to make you happy!"

We all know that I no longer just live in Utah for this festival, but it is right there at the very top of the list of the reasons and yesterday, while we were on the bus in Park City, my professor actually said to a woman whom we met who was full of everything that makes Berkeley, California exactly what it is and always will be, my professor exclaimed that I just use him for his mailing address.  I need to share that it is absolutely not true.  I use him for his heart.  Also for his brain.  And his courage.  Actually, I don't use him at all.  I love him for all those things that he gives so very generously to me.  Unconditionally.  Loving with this man is a whole new lesson in loving.  He is a professor.  And maybe even a wizard, as well.

So, Sundance. It started. The professor smacked right into Robert Redford yesterday while I was guiding him to all things festival.  You just don't really smack right into Robert Redford these days, so obviously it was just kismet and, well, my professor has certainly now done Sundance.  He can go home.

I have lots of films on my slate.  Mostly documentaries.  In fact, today, I have nothing but documentaries.  I saw two yesterday.  I think I'm seeing nine today.  That isn't a typo.

That is an extraordinary amount of individual story telling.  Some of us really appreciate the people in this world who are brave enough to share the stories that need to be told.  I do know that it is always just one perspective, the filmmakers.  However, I appreciate their passion and the blood, the sweat, the tears, and especially the heart that it takes to bring these stories to the world. 

I'll go and sit quietly and listen and try to receive them graciously.

Here we go. Festivaling.

No Limits.

I dreamed last night that I lived inside of Twitter. In the Twitterverse.  Populated by all of us.  We were all living there and it was ruled not democratically, as we might hope, not with freedom of real expression, not like the Internet we all want to believe is ours to romp and play in and collectively own.  No, it was a didactic Twitterverse, ruled by a dictator, with very stringent rules.  We could only speak in 140 characters and only THINK in 140 characters and if we overstepped by just one extra character, just one period or comma or even a pause to think, yes a pause to think, well, that was cause for torture. 

Real torture.  Not imagined torture. Not torture that happens to someone else in far away country.  Not torture that you just read about as it flickers by on your screen in a stream of other thoughts delivered precisely to you in 140 character blips.

No,real torture. Both inside your mind and to your body.  Without words, without characters, in deadly silence and far, far away from the seeing and witnessing eyes and hearts of all the others in the Twitterverse.

Deep burns to your flesh so the others would know even though they couldn't possibly ask.  It would take too many precious characters.

Being limited to only 140 characters for expression was ridiculously impossible for me.  I also bristled, openly, vociferously, at the rules.  Rules, as I've always said, are made precisely to be broken.  Especially the ones that are created to cause us to conform, to keep us in a box.

I created four iterations of me.  I shared all of my 560 characters for thoughts and words and expression with others. Freely.  I just gave them away.  Letting anyone who had anything they needed to say to say it, think it, share it, express it.

Revolution was at hand. Freedom of speech. The Internet belongs to all of us.  We were taking control.

The thing about revolution, though, is that while those who believe stand naked and transparent and shout as loudly as they can even with more than 140 characters just to be heard, it takes a lot of continued naked peaceful protestation to actually win.

In my dream, the Twitterverse gendarmes silenced me for my actions.

We are, collectively, far better than the 140 characters we now limit ourselves to share.

I know that we are.

Love, and you, are much, much grander and I know you have truly beautiful things to say.

No matter what it is, no matter what, use all your characters, all your words, and please keep talking.

Finding Alex Fossgreen

UPDATE: Alex Fossgreen has been found. He's alive and well. His family is extraordinarily grateful for the outpouring of love and help that they received.  Thank you for helping, too.

Alex Fossgreen is a sweet, kind 23 year old young man. He loves to play GO and he is well versed in Asian studies.  The last time I saw Alex, he and I spent all night discussing the intricacies of a well-balanced vegetarian diet as well as all the films that Danny Elfman had scored. He genuinely sparkles. He just does.

Alex Fossgreen is also someone's son, someone's brother, a beloved best friend to many and is currently missing.  Last Friday, in the very early morning hours, he walked out of his home in Scotts Valley with just a backpack and little else, leaving behind his cellphone.  He did take his passport and some cash, but not his bank card.  He did not say goodbye or leave a note.

As quickly as Alex was there, Alex was gone.  Without a trace. 

While I have no idea, honestly, who really reads here, I do know that you're a kind, generous, compassionate and loving group of very real people who always help when you can.  I also know that there are mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters among you who would want everyone to help if your own son had suddenly vanished without a trace.

We all know, all too well, that time is always critical in these situations.  You may think you're living far too far away from Santa Cruz to be of help.  The truth is you may be the exact person, you who stumble upon this blog for whatever reason today, who happens to see Alex at a truck stop or a bus station, or even picks him up as a hitchhiker and chats with him while he's on his way where ever he thinks it is he needs to go.

If you are, please, please contact his family and let them know that he's alive. They just want to know he's okay. You can do that by emailing me directly, if you want, or calling his parents at XXX-XXX-XXXX. Help us help Alex and his family find a happy ending to this story. 

I know it's all any of you would wish for, as well. 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Digging for Beets

I was snuggled in bed under the piles of comforters with my professor last night looking at the calendar trying to sort out my schedule for Sundance.  Of course this is perhaps the most romantic thing anyone can possibly do, right? Snuggle in bed with an electronic device that vibrates and makes noise and flashes all kinds of bright lights if you push just the right buttons and with your sweet loved one's head resting there, just there on your left breast, you sort out the screening schedule for a festival. 

THAT IS ROMANCE IN ALL CAPS.  Trust me.

What became even more romantic, however, was when I switched over to the finance pages to find out, because I am me, if I could actually invest in BEETS.  I swear my heart started beating faster and I actually got a little bit bothered by the notion that I might be able to do this.

Turns out that you can, in fact, invest in beets.  If you're so inclined.  These are not the beets you're looking for.  That part, though, makes me really kind of sad.  More concerning is that Cargill is involved.  I'll leave that story for another day, but ugh.  Cargill.

Bothered by the beets, I then decided that we'd all be better off if we could invest in Marijuana.  Because, you know, it's now legal in some parts of this country and why not be a real and true transparent evangelist and go ahead and INVEST in what will ultimately perhaps save this pretty blue planet?

Turns out, you CAN invest in marijuana, too.  It might not be such a bad thing. Getting in right now seems to be pretty cheap.  Round out your retirement portfolio with a little something that is truly green? Why not?

I don't just throw the money that I do not really have at these things, though.  I have to do due dilegence.  Of course, then, I say to my professor, who is quite wise and perhaps one of the smartest men that I know, that it is my understanding that the Obama Administration has been targeting Medical Marijuana patients at an alarming rate, far more than any previous president.  I also said to him, though, that what I wanted was some empirical evidence about all of this. So I went looking.

That was how I found this film, Code of the West.  It is not the empirical evidence I was looking to find by any means, obviously.  It is just a documentary film.  I just happen to eat documentary films for breakfast. 

It is also how I found out about DOC NYC.  That, my friends, was when the choir of heavenly angels sang and the big orgasm hit. The electronic device had delivered. 

There are a multitude of film festivals in this world.  There's even the Nakedjen Film Festival.  The DOC NYC film festival just happens to be one, though, that makes a girl like me, the girl who loves a truly good story, the girl who loves the filmmakers who are willing to tell their truth, the girl who always wants more excellent documentaries in this world, clap her hands furiously and, well, yes, orgasm.

I am not missing that festival. You can count on that. I will be there with all my glitter and bells and clapping furiously this year. That much, I know. I don't plan my life very much, but that festival is now on my calendar.  In sharpie.

Full circle while snuggled under the covers with the professor.  You just never know what you might discover when you go digging for a beet.

 

The Little Bits and Pieces

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?

I trusted the professor and my own heart, more importantly, and moved the dogs and all my stuff in with him and lilsalty. There were adjustments. There will be more adjustments. There are no regrets.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I am not certain I made any new year's resolutions last year?

For the coming year I'd like to practice more gratitude, share my glitter more, and consume lots less. Especially sugar. But in everything. It's a year of nothing new for me, so it should help me to be mindful of just how much I do not really need.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, and I was even honored to help name at least one of the newest members of our planet. That was especially fun.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Yes. Actually, I had a birth and a death on the very same day. Life, as we know, is a circle.

5. What countries did you visit?

Only America. I need to correct that in 2013.

6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?

My life lacks for very little. But if I want anything, less anxiety about our government policies.

7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

The second weekend in July. The professor experienced the fair for the very first time. I experienced the fair with him with a fresh heart. It was magical.

Also, that week in August that my OTHER family spent in Park City and I got to reunite with ALL OF THEM. They have loved me, unconditionally, as long as I've been me.  I love them just as much, maybe more. That week was full of everything awesome.

You know what else? I can't forget, ever, the trip to Destin. I could have just gone to Nashville and sat on a couch for five days, honestly.  It was the laughter and hugs and the re-charging of my soul and the love.  However, I also got to swim in the ocean. I needed to SWIM IN THE OCEAN.  It might have been November, but this girl swam in the ocean, got naked on a beach, and her soul was healed by the salt air.

Do you all see a pattern here?  Perhaps what I should promise myself in 2013 is MORE quality time with the people who I know I really and truly LOVE and whom I know REALLY and TRULY love me.  Forever, amen.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Falling in love and not falling out.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Capitulating on the lawsuit because of my own anxiety issues and not seeing it all the way through.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I did not suffer, but the blood clot in my brain is still a nagging nuisance and so are my seizures.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I did not buy it, but my bike that was a present from the professor for our anniversary is the absolute most beautiful and loving present ever. Also the iPad and smart phone I received. Those two devices have changed my life for the better!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

I have the very best friends in the whole world. Every single one of you. You all love me in spite of my sometimes less than stellar behavior. You also, each of you, are always doing things that inspire me to be a much better me. YOU all deserve a parade and a celebration. With marching bands and lots of glitter.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Our United States Congress.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Kombucha. Does it have to be so damn expensive?

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Going back to the Oregon Country Fair with the professor. I needed that trip for my whole soul.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?

The Bed Song

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Happier
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner
c) richer or poorer? Poorer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

More trips with the professor. We travel well together.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worried about all the things that can't be undone.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Early morning, I dropped the Professor and lilsalty at the airport. I spent the rest of the day with my family truly CELEBRATING. I know! It was lovely. I know! I couldn't believe it either.

21. Did you fall in love in 2012?

Yes. I intend to in 2013, also. I fall in love with the professor every single day.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Breaking Bad. The end.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

I don't like that word, hate. But no, I don't.

24. What was the best book you read?

Brain on Fire

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Mika

26. What did you want and get?

Beets and arugula grown by my own organic farmer.

27. What did you want and not get?

A girl's clubhouse. But...it's coming soon!

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

Just one? Searching for Sugarman. Amazing that I saw it in January 2012 and again in December 2012 and it still was my FAVORITE.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

48. I saw 4 films at SUNDANCE with the professor and I also shared an amazing loving dinner celebration with two sweet friends. It was a perfect day.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

If I had embraced my roll as a mother more. I never imagined I'd ever be one. This year will be better.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?

Throw some glitter at it and see if it sticks.

32. What kept you sane?

Laughing. Really loudly and inappropriately. What? You don't do that?

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

It's always Roberty Downey, Jr. I know. I know. But it just always will be.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Abortion Rights, Global Warming, THE BUDGET, ….fuck it, everything is politics, isn't it?

35. Who did you miss?

This list is impossible. You all know who you are. Let's fix this, shall we?

36. Who was the best new person you met?

Ruby. And then she was gone too fast.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012.

Everyone really is trying their very best.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

We are not what you think we are
We are golden, we are golden.

 

There is no harm in finding magic in the snow.

last spring, i bought these boots. there was no snow on the ground, there were arugula sprouts sprouting in the garden, even, and there i was buying arctic snow boots.

the dogs and i had just moved in with the professor. instead of leaving utah, the dogs and i took a risk and said yes to him. he offered our hearts shelter from the snow and a promise that we'd never have to live under a bridge.  he also offered beets and garlic and arugula grown by him just for me.  so we found ourselves here, with him, in his house instead of somewhere else, and i wondered how it could be that when i asked the universe to show me the way home, home turned out to be just seventeen blocks away.

the boots were to seal the deal, in a way.  you don't buy arctic snow boots when you're headed for beaches in maui.  while i had lots of boots in my closet, what i never had in my closet were actual snow boots. i had lived here for nearly five years, but never actually lived here because my own heart really never wanted to be here. 

there is snow falling today.  lots of it.  i have arctic snow boots on my feet. the dogs and i have played in the snow, which i actually truly now appreciate. i have mad love in my heart and a warm cozy home that i share with my professor in utah.  it doesn't matter, honestly, that i live in utah.  i'm going to live where ever he happens to be.  i know better than to say forever, because that's a very long time.  nothing is forever.  that lesson, i have learned.

i'm grateful i trusted the universe, or, more importantly, i'm grateful i traveled my own road long enough to lead me right here.  our own journey can sometimes feel so very dark and full of deep cold snow and dark woods.

it is really good to have the right boots.

This year, we all get ponies.

“The story is told that when Joe was a child his cousins emptied his Christmas stocking and replaced the gifts with horse manure. Joe took one look and bolted for the door, eyes glittering with excitement. 'Wait, Joe, where are you going? What did ol' Santa bring you?' According to the story Joe paused at the door for a piece of rope. 'Brought me a bran'-new pony but he got away. I'll catch 'em if I hurry.' And ever since then it seemed that Joe had been accepting more than his share of hardship as good fortune, and more than his share of shit as a sign of Shetland ponies just around the corner, Thoroughbred stallions just up the road.” ~ Ken Kesey, Sometimes a Great Notion

I told my professor very recently that the I always believe "there's a pony in here somewhere!"  He gave me the quizzical look that I think he reserves just for me when I say the very things that, well, deserve a look just like that and I explained that no matter what life deals us, no matter how awful it gets, there is always a pony.  My pony these days is hot pink, has lots of glitter, sings and dances and has the most incredible eyelashes you have ever seen.  Her name is Pinkie-Pie.  No, really and truly.  You should see her.  She drives the boys in this house positively mad and I think that is all the more reason I have grown so very fond of her.

Anyway, the thing is, this year for each and every one of us who share this journey on this amazing blue ball spinning around the sun that we all call home has been rather full of both hardship and good fortune and especially, perhaps, our own versions of our share of shit.  I want you each to remember that no matter how deep it gets, there's always a pony.  A glittery, beautiful perfectly pink pony. This year, we all get ponies.

And, please remember that I love you the most. Always and all ways. It's absolutely true. I do.

However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.

I can only continue to send light, love and peace into this world, hug every one of you fiercely, and hope a mighty hope that change really is possible.

Namaste.

Travel far enough, you meet yourself.

The NakedJen Film Festival continues.  Goes on.  It may just be never-ending.  I am, I can say, having the very best time ever and the good people of New York City have been quite accommodating and friendly and even put me in a film today.  Wasn't that nice of them?  Also, today I got to do something I have never ever done before.  I got to record a podcast with Dave Winer and I loved every single moment of it. This is, I hope, the first of many more to come. 

I am tempted to ask how can it get any better than this?  The thing is, I know it absolutely can and will!  Life is just beautiful just like that.