Home is where the Heart is.

Suitcases

‘Home’ is a very subjective word for me. Having moved a lot as a child and having lived all over the world since I was 18, home has either meant nothing, a house, a cottage, a mansion, an estate, a bed, a backpack, a desire, a hotel, a beach, a tent, a greyhound bus, a suitcase, an airport lounge, a sleeping bag, my mum’s flat is or simply where my bills are sent to.

Perhaps it’s because of all the different meanings and constant personal confusion that ‘home’ has always been a very powerful word for me. It’s a word I constantly try to define and find long-lasting meaning for. I’ve often tried to create beautiful ‘homes’ yet I’m hardly in them or tend to move frequently away from them. I’ve come from different homes and different countries yet never refer to them as ‘home’ (I tend to say I’m a mutt; from all over, a mixture of a lot of things but no real belonging to anywhere).

The truth is, that although I long for a real sense of physical home and belonging, the vagabond in me will almost always equate home to a suitcase and where my head is that night. And with all the travel that is to begin, that train of thought won’t be derailed anytime soon.

On Tuesday I leave for Copenhagen where I’ll be spending time with my mum (Tivoli opening day! Victor Cafe! Horse ride through the Deer Park!) before heading out to various family homes in the country for visits and finally getting to see the inside of an old family home. So home will be a hotel in the city, a farmstay in the country, a spare room at my cousins and end with as a summer house on Fyn.

Then I’m off to the UK; part business and part pleasure. Having lived there and having spent a great deal of time in London, I’ve had to find ways to get excited about going back (a certain wedding helps). This year, I’m determined to ride a bike through Hyde Park, partake in real afternoon tea again and of course finally see the British Anthropologie. I’ve picked out what I’m hoping will be a fantastic hotel; something that during my weekend in London I can call home (it’s supposed to feel like one, more on that to come).

After the UK, I’m headed to Karlsruhe in Southwest Germany. Having never been there before I’m hoping that amidst all the business there will be time for a little sightseeing so that between the hotel and office, a cafe or park bench can be home. Spring in Europe is a very rare site for me as I’m usually there in the midst of February’s winter for my birthday. So blooms, milder temps and hopefully sun will be a welcomed site indeed. I just don’t want to miss it.

And then back to America on May 06th, specifically San Francisco, where home will be a guest bed for awhile before heading back to my little cottage the following weekend.

That’s a lot of travel, especially after just having spent almost two weeks calling the Driskill Hotel in Austin my home. And all this travel has me thinking (as travel usually does) – what is home – is it a place or a feeling? Is it where you were born, the place you go back to or whereever you are in this moment? Is home temporary (meaning, it can change each night – I always say, “Going home” even when talking about a hotel) or long lasting (you think of your physical home you live in now). Is home more than a memory, a birthplace, a suitcase, family?

For me, home is always just where I tend to be whether it’s in a hotel with two suitcases or my cottage by the sea. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t had grounding or maybe it’s because I make myself feel at home when I travel by taking and doing familiar/calming things (my favourite tea in the morning to get me going, Lush bubble bars for a nightly unwinding bath, a couple of friends for company, a candle, my camera/computer to putter with, a stack of glossy mags for reading and favourite clothes to feel good in).

So the next several weeks I’ll be calling two suitcases and a myriad of places home. What about you?

PS: I’m going to try very hard to share my travels via Twitter with Hygge House and AlexTravels. I’ll also be sharing a lot of photos/info/stores on my Flickr Page.

Discussion 4 Comments Category Danish Life, Off She Goes

My Bucket List

The saying, “you can’t grasp something new if you’re holding onto something old’ has always carried a great deal of weight with me which is why I don’t like to recap previous years come new ones. I live always looking forward in possibility. And to to this, I constantly look for ways to create it.

My first bucket list, 30 things to do before I turn 30, was created in 2003 as a way to look forward to turning 30. It was the first time I had really listed out things I wanted to do and really took the time to make some happen. I was always a spur-of-the-moment creator. If next month seemed slow, I’d create something to do so I’d have something to look forward to. But to write a list and plan things out? Not my strong suit. This list, however, changed that a little.

I was able to check off quite a few things. But when I turned 30, I realised that not all were done and, in fact, there was a whole lot more I wanted to do. So my new bucket list, 101 things to do before I die (see below), was born in 2008.

The past couple of years have been incredibly busy – lots of move, lots of working, lots of travel and lots of doing. The past year, especially, was a chaotic whirlwhind of life changing events where I felt almost caught up in someone else’s plan. The end of this year gave me time to reflect on that and I realised I needed to take charge and begin to do the things that I needed and so desperately wanted to do. The things on that bucket list.

One of the reasons why progress on my list had slowed was because I didn’t make them a priority. I somehow would always run out of time, or money would be better spent elsewhere, or something else would come up. I realised that dreaming up and writing down the list was only half the equation – planning and executing it was the other critical half. Without the latter, it’d just remain a list of unchecked dreams.

I spent New Years day making plans to do some things on my list. Either calling places for resevations or researching how to do some. I also took steps to make things real (got a sewing machine! Started to read every book I own beginning with Little Big. Read a book about photography and finally learned what an F-Stop is! Made reservations for ziplining!).

It felt really good to take this list seriously because it helped me to really focus on possibilities, on dreams, and on fun in a way that I had neglected for the past several years. I can’t tell you how many I’m going to get done this year or next, but I can tell you, they’re getting done. And that makes for a very happy new year indeed.

My Bucket List
In March 2008 I re-discovered a forgotten list of 30 things I had set out to do in my 30th year. I was happy to discover that I had done most of the things and became ambitious to do the ones that had gone undone.

Thinking more I thought, if I gave myself more time, what would I do? How many things have I always wanted to see, experience, do or feel? And the 101 Things To Do Before I Die list was born that same month. And the theme of sleep and travel seems to be as prevalent now as it was then. Must try to knock those things off first.

Here it is (if it’s struck-through it means I did it!):

  1. Go to Mustique Island.
  2. Stay at the Four Seasons Bora Bora
  3. Go back to Maui
  4. Linger
  5. Have my work have meaning like it used to (mentoring, building, giving, creating etc.) (done 2011)
  6. Produce a film.
  7. Donate over a million dollars over my lifetime.
  8. Get a pedicure.(done 2011)
  9. Own/run a (gluten free) gite in France.
  10. Have a maid every two weeks
  11. Learn to sleep more than 4 hours a night.
  12. Better my penmanship.
  13. Fly a plane.
  14. Have custom linen curtains
  15. Stay at the Ritz Paris
  16. Stay at Hotel Particular Paris(done 2009)
  17. Own a Fortnum and Mason hamper then have a picnic
  18. Take all my best girlfriends on a weekend getaway at once.
  19. Own the best claw foot tub
  20. Be healthy.
  21. Swoon (done 2011)
  22. Watch the sun rise over Santa Monica from sea
  23. Visit Apifera Farm.
  24. Cook/eat at home everyday for at least a week.(done 2010)
  25. Create and grow a garden
  26. Have a stone home (done 2009)
  27. Upgrade my camera (last was 2001 – 6MP Digital Rebel) (done 2011)
  28. Try paddleboarding
  29. Eat Oysters and drink champagne.(done 2009)
  30. Drive a golf cart
  31. Horseback ride on a beach
  32. Buy and wear a pair of jeans(done 2010)
  33. Photograph for Anthropologie(done 2009)
  34. Not move for an entire year.
  35. Move back to Europe for part of the year.
  36. Be met at an airport (done 2011)
  37. Stay at The Plaza and read Eloise. (done 2009)
  38. Unpack everything. (done 2010)
  39. Go on a Ghost Hunt.
  40. Buy a pair of Oliver Peoples sunglasses (done 2011)
  41. See Victoria Falls and do a safari.
  42. Buy a fixer upper house and remodel it.
  43. Work with Lonely Planet.
  44. Get over my fear of the phone.
  45. Own Lightroom (done 2010).
  46. Take a photo every day for at least a year
  47. Make someone else’s dream come true. (done 2007)
  48. Have lots of people to bake for.
  49. Have better and prettier shoes. (done 2009)
  50. Own a first edition of “Le Petit Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
  51. Have a massage every four to six weeks for a year (Done 2001)
  52. Visit the Channel Islands (done 2011)
  53. Make a tent like the one in the movie, “The Holiday”
  54. Make a difference.
  55. Condense all my web sites and like at least 1. (done 2010)
  56. Speak French without having to hesitate or throw in an English word. (done 2008)
  57. Visit Moray Firth Coast
  58. Be on ‘Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me‘.
  59. Love my home, my city and work – all at the same time.
  60. Sail the Queen E2 from NY to Southampton.
  61. Buy a Four Seasons mattress (Done 2012).
  62. Feel sophisticated.
  63. Boogey like it’s 1999.
  64. Figure out WordPress. (done 2009)
  65. Take a self defense course
  66. Have a mentor.
  67. Refurbish my farm chairs. (done 2007)
  68. Meet more people when I travel.
  69. Take an RV Trip
  70. Hire a financial planner.
  71. Create a non-profit foundation for women (done 2011)
  72. Have a trip planned for me. Even just a day.
  73. Find a great gluten-free croissant.
  74. Drive through the East Coast in Fall. (done 2009)
  75. Try the trapeze.
  76. Make my home 100% green and sustainable.
  77. Visit Pompeii
  78. Learn to sew
  79. Karaoke
  80. Own some jewellery. Like jewellery. Wear the jewellery.
  81. Own a pony. Named pepper.
  82. Have a gluten-free chef.
  83. Own couture.
  84. Zipline
  85. Ride on the roof of a train in Equador
  86. Have Babycakes again (done 2011)
  87. Have breakfast in bed and then stay there for the day.
  88. Learn how to really use my camera.
  89. Volunteer with Jack (my dog).
  90. Find a signature parfume. (done 2008)
  91. Have a saline pool
  92. Read every book I own (I have a habit of buying without reading)
  93. Take a trip with my BFF
  94. Study & recite more history
  95. Have a stocked and large linen closet.
  96. Have a dedicated guest room filled with guests.
  97. Take Sunday’s off for at least a year
  98. Visit Gaspe Bay
  99. Cook an omelet that’s edible. (done 2008)
  100. Have theme music follow me for a day. Like in a movie.
  101. Rest.
Discussion 11 Comments Category Everyday Hygge

Love Notes

When I left home at eighteen I had two suitcases – one filled with clothes and the other filled with books and stationary. My fountain pens, inks, cards, envelopes and other bits were more important to me than anything else because that’s how I communicated with people – by mail.

In every country I lived, in all my travels, I wrote to friends and family. I wrote thank you cards, ‘just moved’ announcements (lots of them!), thinking of you notes, holiday and birthday wishes and more often than not, simple love notes.

Christmas cards, however, were always my favourite to write. I’d have stocked up on the perfect cards, turned on the holiday tunes, picked up my favourite pen and then would sit down to write. I took this time to really reflect upon my friendships and write that down for them whether it was thinking about something we’d done together, that’d they’d accomplished on their own, on any major changes that came (first year as a mum, as a married person or alone). I know it sounds cheesy but as I wrote these letters, I’d smile. To be able to sit down, think about and acknowledge friends and mail it off, well, I couldn’t think of a nicer gift.

I used to average sending about 150 cards a holiday season, each having a personalized note. Going through my address book was as joyful to me as a good, dishy mag. But over the years, people would move and I’d lose contact, or people just didn’t give addresses anymore because of email & facebook. And those are the same reasons why I used to go from receiving cards during the holiday to receiving only three last year.

And I’ll confess, that broke my heart a little because there is, I think, nothing sweeter than a note, a piece of mail, of knowing that someone took the time to think of you, write it down, and put it to post. A note from a friend and a cup of tea was the perfect break in the day. And truthfully, writing them was, too.

But somehow we’ve become a culture of, ‘that’s too much effort’ to put pen to paper. Technology has changed what ‘connecting’ means – and from what I’ve seen if often means being reminded by a social networking site that it’s a friend’s birthday and that an electronic ‘Happy Birthday’ note will suffice because we’re all so busy.

But I think sometimes ‘busy’ is just a polite for ‘lazy’ and that the things that matter to you should always find a way into your (address) book. Your friends should mean more to you than “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Birthday” on their Facebook wall. Even if only once a year you can write someone, do it. Take the time to write a love note to your friend, your family, the person that helped you this year. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll write you back.

I know I would.

Discussion 5 Comments Category Holidays

My Family Tree (& tips for yours)

I remember this photo of my father’s mother’s family from my childhood tucked away in my father’s boxes of old photos. I always loved it even though I never met one single person in it. And, aside from my grandmother (back row, second from right), I didn’t know their names. But for years I obsessed over it and eventually my father made me a copy as a Christmas gift. Knowing that this was a photo that I’d always love, I took it and had my first professional framing experience to make sure it was displayed in the best way possible. I’m glad I did that because in every home I move into, it’s the first photo that goes up.

However, despite having a copy on proud display in my home, I still didn’t know the names of the people. Growing up I had heard bits and pieces of my family history from my father but there was never anyone around to really solidify his stories; most of his immediate family had passed or were scattered all over the world. And it seems like, unlike most French people – my ancestors like to move. Their restless or opportunistic natures had them going from city to city and country to country which, in the 1800′s, didn’t leave for a lot of documentation. He could tell me about his mother and a bit about his father’s side of the family but nothing really more than a generation back for him. When I was about ten, my father gave me a present that was truly memorable; it was a huge (2′X5′) book of some photos of my childhood with dates and a few stories put in and most importantly a family tree that he had started. It wasn’t very complete – there were a lot of first names, no dates and there wasn’t anything past his mother’s mother but it was something.

Maybe it was being young, maybe it was because it was just names on a page, but it didn’t really resonate with me at the time what this was – or what the possibility of it was. I didn’t connect the people on the page to my family. I didn’t look at the photo above and figure out names. I didn’t think of any traits I had that might also belong to people on that page or how I could possibly be living a life that they somehow did, too. And I never found out; the family tree that was supposed to be a project for my father and I, ended up just remaining a page in a book that got tucked away and forgotten for a long, long time.

To some that have totally connected families this might seem ridiculous but I didn’t have a connected family. I had my parents, once in awhile I saw my mums siblings and parents and that was that. There wasn’t continuous stories being told and photos being shared. There was no Aunt Irene that people said I looked like and I didn’t go to visit cousins in the spring. Often I felt like my little family came from an isolated incident. I think that’s why I loved the photo so much. I’ve always wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. To have roots.

A couple of weeks ago I was stuck sick in bed for several days and began watching a new television show about ancestry called, Who do you think you are?. After a couple of episodes, I was completely addicted to the idea of discovering all the people in my family as far back as I could and learning all their stories. So I signed up for Ancestory.com, plugged in all the names I had, and off I went.

I have to say, this site was more than I thought it would be because it has access to a whole bunch of digital archives. If you’re lucky enough to need records from a place that has scanned them in, you can search and actually see that document online. If someone else is searching your family tree, you can see that and possibly learn more names or connections you didn’t have. Best yet, it keeps it all organized in a way that, for a visual yet analytical person like myself, makes it easy to follow and track.

However, despite being very helpful with hints and searches, there can be challenges which requires you to be somewhat of a detective. The challenges I came upon were the fact that in researching my father’s side, everyone was French and devout Catholic. This meant that often families would have 8-10 children, several wives (often they’d die in childbirth) and most of the children would have names of their parents or grandparents and these names would all be variations of Marie, Jean, Veronique and George. Plus, being in small villages, brothers would marry sisters of other families or cousins and end up all sharing names. Looking through records to find names of new family members was therefor really, really hard. I’d sometimes add someone only, after reading several other documents and putting details together, would I learn that they actually weren’t a part of my family.

The other challenge (which was also something that made me feel very connected) was that, unlike most French, my family liked to move. Either for opportunities or a restless nature, they got around. Some of the family went to new countries, some helped build empires, some moved simply for farming empires but they moved – and always to French speaking places. If they did move to an English speaking place (or an English surveyor wrote the documentation), their last names would change to English interpretations. So Beauchamp would become ‘Beaushom’ ‘Beaushomp’ ‘Beaushaw’ and Jean would become John.

So names, moving and the lack of documentation has made it quite the daunting – but most definitely interesting – task.

I’ve been working on all of this rather obsessively the past two weeks and what I’ve discovered has had such an effect on me. I’ve been able to combine the facts I’ve found with the stories I’ve heard the the historical research that I’ve done to learn that, despite not having a lot of family around – I am part of a family. I have traits that come from somewhere. I learned that my interest in travel, in moving for opportunity, for seeing the world, for doing – that isn’t something random. It’s genetic. I always thought I was the only one in my family that loved this but I see I come from a long line of people who did this. That most of my family has a long history of farming or fishing in some of the most beautiful places – and almost always by the Seashore. These little details, while nothing really impressive, totally resonated with me.The other thing I learned was while there isn’t anything historic really about my French family aside from some colonies they helped found and build, they did a lot of things. Little things that made a huge difference but wasn’t big enough for history book but like being the first telephone operator, starting a new school in a new city, crossing the Atlantic in one of the worst storms, looking after 10 children on a small homestead, going off to another country to get married and so forth. I learned that legends can become fact, and fact can become legends.

I also learned who every person in that photos was.

This has been such an important thing for me to do that it’s actually inspired a couple of trips for me this year – to go and see some of the countryside where my family is from and combine their stories with my own. Because it’s time for me to begin creating and adding stories to my branch of the tree.

My Family Researching Notes & Tips:

Even if you’ve never had an interest in your family tree – and even if you haven’t had an interest in your family – I highly recommend doing this even if you don’t do it without Ancestry.com (the site just made it easy for me to visualise the tree, keep track of and find info because they’ve digitized billions of birth, death, marriage and estate records. No, I do not work for them, I do not get kick backs for writing about them, I just used it personally with great results). It’s so much more than I can express.

All the things you’ll learn about your family and yourself, well, that’s worth a few hours of research.

What’s important to note for Ancestry.com is that I’m not sure it’s great for European findings. It has been next to impossible to find Danish records although this can be in part because Denmark had most things recorded in the Church (no birth certificates) and Church records aren’t yet scanned. But even into the 20th century documents are still hard to come by. Same with the French documentation although a lot of parish’s surprisingly had things scanned in and recorded. The Channel Islands actually had a lot of records, the UK had a few and French Canada & Eastern America were really great. If a family member went to America, things were easy with passenger and census records.

Here’s some other things I’ve learned:

  1. Gather as much initial info you can – even if it’s just guesses from people. Birthdates (even just ‘about 1900), place of birth (even if just the country), death and last names are so valuable and really help you get started. After talking with some friends about doing this, I’ve learned that so many of them don’t even know their parents birthdays or their grandmother’s maiden name. Find out as much as you can – even if it’s just people guessing.
  2. Names often get recorded wrong. When my French relatives moved to English speaking places, their names were always changed. Mostly because when the French person said something, the English person would write it as they heard it. People didn’t fill out their own info generally pre-1950. .
  3. Names on Ancestry.com can be wrong. Some tagging records there might read the actual scanned record wrong and then tag that record wrong. Example: the actual document from 1841 would be written in beautiful italic scroll, might be faded and might be in another language. So someone might read the name ‘Marie’ as ‘Mary’ and tag it as ‘Mary’. So when you search ‘Marie’, click documents that say ‘Mary’ just incase. I almost always click documents and actually read them instead of just the computerized info that pops up.
  4. Names are important for finding family members – especially for older families. On my Danish side, it was common to take the surnames as the first names. Mr. Neilson would name his child Neils. On the French side, they almost always named their child after themselves or a relative (and most likely a grandmother/grandfather or a brother that had passed). This was both a good and bad thing. I had a relative with a name that stood out but then I was able to discover a new part of the tree because one man future down also had that as a first name. So if you know one branch of your family tree and they all have a group of names and you’re trying to say, find the parents of that branch, looking for a bunch with similar names vs. something that’s way off will help eliminate potential branches.
  5. Look at the scanned document – especially if your family has a common name. As I said, there are a lot of French people with the name Beauchamp – there are a lot more with the names Marie or Jean. So when you’re scanning a site and see a name, looking at the actual document will really help. Marriage certificates have been the most helpful to me because I can learn who the parents of the bride & groom were and sometimes I can learn if a parent had passed away (so I can look to see if they remarried). The Census has helped me learn vocations, where their parents were from, and people who lived in the house. Never take info for granted – really study those documents. It really helps to either connect or eliminate a potential new family find.
  6. Don’t assume that someone else who is researching your tree got it right. This is especially critical when using Ancestry.com where you have the option to see other trees and add people/info to yours. I’ve found on several occasions that people just added people without doing the research because if they actually researched, they wouldn’t have added those people. And if I hadn’t researched, I would have added those people, too.
  7. Record everything you can – every detail, every document, every story. You might find that these help you eliminate certain people, help you when you think you’ve reached a dead end or let you know when you’re on the right direction. I’ve had to go back to certain documents several times to help me with finding family.
  8. Stick with one part of the tree, finish it as much as you can, then move on. Otherwise you’ll get names all jumbled and mixed up.
  9. Keep it high-level. I look for pedigree – who was my father’s, father’s, father’s father or my mother’s mother’s mother. I start adding children if I need help in finding more about the parents (like, if the child was married, I’d look at their marriage record to see the parents names, or look up a census record to see if their mother, a widow, was living with them). If you get too caught up in just recording the children or offlinks of family, it can be overwhelming and confusing at first.
  10. Patience is key. It can be really hard to keep people straight, to look through every document (especially if it’s not in your native tongue) and to deduce who’s who. Don’t think you can sit down and hack it out in one night (like I thought!).
  11. A lot of births and deaths weren’t recorded pre-1900 so if you’re lucky to have Church records of baptisms, that really helps. Also, I had a written note from a Parish that my father had received years ago that said, “The Late Angelique” so I knew that she had died. But I couldn’t find any records except when her husband had remarried. I also had the date of her last child and I could surmise she’d died in childbirth because in those days, a man with children wouldn’t stay single for long. So look for clues like that.
  12. Pre-1800 a lot of men had several marriages because their wives would die in childbirth. My fathers side of the family was all strict Roman Catholic so they wouldn’t have divorced and would have as many children as possible. When looking at the dates of births, look for gaps. If there’s 2-3 years in between, there could be a chance a wife died in childbirth and the father remarried. This was almost always true in my family.
  13. A lot of children died, too. Most of my French family had 9-12 children but often only 7-10 of them survived. This was generally recorded in a census later on (10 children, 7 alive) but before that and in small villages, it simply wasn’t. This is also why I recommend not getting into childrens records at first – it’s hard to know who had offspring and who didn’t. You have to start looking for clues later on to see who was at weddings, recorded in a Parish event or who had lineage. And that’s time consuming.
  14. Guess the birth and marriage years. I found it to be true of my French family that they generally married between 18-20 and within the first year of marriage, always had their first child. So if I knew person A was born in 1900, I could guess that their parent would be born 1890. And that really helped in scanning records.
  15. Know your history – both your families and the area and time in which they lived. You’ll be able to get a lot of facts but it’s the stories that bring the tree to life. Why did your family move from one place to another? Why were so many people in your family dying at once? Why did you always hear about Aunt Irene? Knowing history just brings it all together. It makes the people real.
  16. If you need more information or more story, contact the local historical society or church/parish. I’ve emailed a couple to help me when I couldn’t clearly read a document (I attached the image, asked for clarification and they were able to look at the physical document – fantastic for very faded documents).
  17. Be careful of scams/databases. You’ll see this pop up a lot in forums and on web sites – people will share their database if you give them your email or pay money. Don’t.
  18. Filling out your census is important! I’d never filled out a census before and this year I was finally able to. Reading census records has been invaluable and key to figuring out family members, what they did for a living, and where they were from. So do yours if you get one!
  19. Get people involved! I wish I had people around to ask questions and deepen the connection. I also wished I had more photo and stories to share in case others are searching for the same people. And I wish I had people to share the stories I’ve collected with. I have shared this all with my mum who is visiting her mum next week and recording her with a video camera so that we can have a record of all the stories. And both of them are excited. Me, too.
Discussion 12 Comments Category Everyday Hygge, French Life

My Love of Film

The way I look at it, I was destined to love film. My father set me up to love stories (every night he’d tell me one – two if I hadn’t been wicked) and I was a voracious reader, saving my childhood pennies not for toys but for school book drives. With no TV at home, the first time I ever saw a moving, real action story come to life on the big screen made a definite and long lasting impact.

When I was seven, my half-sister, who was nine years older than I, came to live with me in our little town for the summer. The only place happening at that time was a small movie theatre that had two screens and showed four matinees each weekend. She took a job there and snuck me in each weekend where she’d get me a popcorn, a soda and then sit me in the theatre and tell me not to move. And for the next four to five hours I wouldn’t.

I can’t remember being more content whilst watching every movie that came to town – often three or four times. Some kids looked forward to the weekend for playing, I looked forward to see Pippi, Popeye, The Muppets.

When my sister left my house, the theatre visits died down as there just wasn’t the money to go every weekend. However, my parents, who were also film lovers in a quiet way (they would rattle on about every big star from the 30′s, the 40′s, the 50′s – they loved the glamour, the sweethearts, the men!) came up with the idea of movie date nights twice a month. We’d all doll up in our finest and go to an evening (!) show. We stood in line for ET, we cheered in Star Wars and we tapped our feet in Annie.

And it wasn’t always children’s movies we’d see – they took me to see the violence of Platoon and the romance of Out of Africa. There wasn’t anything I wasn’t allowed to be exposed to. No big deal was ever made about what was appropriate. What was made a big deal was the discussion afterwards about what we thought and our points of view.

It was my father who introduced me to my all-time favourite movie, Lawrence of Arabia. We were out on a lake when he began to tell me the history of how it was made; the length of time, the struggles it took, the actors involved, the drama of the scenery. He had seen it when it premiered in a theatre and had never forgotten that experience. I hadn’t ever thought of the ‘how‘ of movie making before – the people, the production, the time and effort – and was taken to a whole new level. I was 18 before I saw that movie on a little black and white TV and vowed that one day, I’d see it in colour. I wanted that experience my father still gushed about 30 years later.

I started reading so much about film history, the behind the scenes, the craft, the legends. When I was in my early twenty’s, living in Vancouver, Canada, I made my first debut into working in film. It was easy, then, to get in. The city was relatively small, there were lots of movies being made, and I knew a lot of actors from hanging out (obsessively!) in Theatre Sports. I took jobs via word of mouth – everything from stand in’s to a PA to being an extra. Any job that I could get, I’d do – even if it was a friend just asking me to tag along and help out without pay. It was always a yes from me.

In 2004 I got a call from Paramount and visited the studio to meet for a project. Getting a personal tour of all the movie history had me giddy and hooked so I moved to Los Angeles. I was fortunate that I had great work and mentors right away and that I easily connected to people I needed to in the industry. But it was a huge eye opener for me – to go from small town movie making to the big league. It was a whole new level. I found myself falling deeper in-love with film thanks to the people I was meeting and places like the Areo Theatre which played classic movies as they should be seen. I finally saw Lawrence of Arabia on the big screen – three times! And then my second favourite film – Singing in the Rain – also ran and seeing that in the theatre, with people, my people who loved and got film on the same level, solidified my passion and love for movies – in wanting to be a part of something that could change and affect people the way that those movie experiences had me. But at the same time, the deeper in I went, the more I found myself totally falling out of love with Hollywood.

Maybe it was the times or seeing the man behind the curtain, but the glamour I had always envisioned didn’t exist anymore. The family feeling of being on set that I had experienced so often elsewhere was replaced by a lot of competitive insecurity. I saw more and more films of meaning being pushed aside in favour of movies that I couldn’t stomach to watch, let alone help make (I think I was one of the few people who turned down so much work. I sometimes regret having to believe in what I do).

While there are a lot of amazing, down to earth people in LA (even celebrities), the LA Hollywood scene was not a good fit for me. I loved going to premieres to see the movies and hear the directors talk to it but I hated the schmoozing and always felt awkward. I loved donning gowns for big events but since they were borrowed I always felt less than because I didn’t own one (or a mansion in the hills like most of my peers). When a famous director said to me I got a lot of work because I was one of the few people that didn’t talk in this town, instead of taking it as a compliment, I took it as a sign that sincerity, loyalty and discretion was a rare thing in this town and that made me nervous and truthfully, lonely. Like a lot of people who go into Hollywood with the best intentions, I ended up finding myself swept up and caged in by the bubble. I spent less time on the storytelling aspect of my life and more on the managing side. And I wanted out but wasn’t sure how – what else was there?

When the writers strike happened in 2008, the town was devastated; studios closed, movies weren’t being made, people were out of work (and not just film people – the people they supported like local restaurants, house keepers, delivery drivers, cleaners, etc.). Living in LA during this time was really scary and depressing – everyone was affected. And then the recession hit and well, the glory days of film in every sense of the word seemed gone. It was actually heartbreaking for me to see what the industry had become and who I had become in it.

I took this downtime to think about if I should keep pursuing film or if I should take a break. And when I saw an opportunity to leave LA for Philadelphia and do something un-Hollywood, I took it as that spark that I used to feel about film was totally gone. And the saying is, when you’re always angry or always tired in your job, it’s time to go. So I went.

I confess that for the first little while, the fresh air did me some good. I liked not being a part of it all, of being relatively normal, of not being disappointed by what was at the box office. The quiet was goof for me to think about who I really was, what my creative purpose was, what really inspired me, the kind of people I wanted to be around. It was a great time for reflection – something I’m so thankful to have had.

However, couple months in, I literally ran into a LA friend in Rittenhouse Square. He was here finishing up a big movie and started telling me about everything that was going on. And something happened – I got a little jealous! I missed the community of a movie set – where you’re working 18 hour crazy days but you’re all part of something amazing. I missed the juicy behind the scene details and getting my hands dirty for coordinating to set building. But, I thought, I’m not ready to go back in.

The week after that my LA hairdresser was at her NY Salon and, in catching up, she told me she was transforming her book into a screen play. I had loved working in development so I got a little more jealous! The following week I went and saw a movie staring a friend of mine – it was the first movie I’d seen since leaving LA. I had met my friend in the Spring of 2007 when he’d first come to LA to do this movie and I remember the conversation we had about doing his first movie here and the excitement and the process. A year later I ran into him at his first premiere (for his second film) and talked about the crazy experience of that and the process and how he was part of film but not Hollywood. And watching that movie, and remembering those conversations, well, let’s just say I fell for film all over again.

Instead of just remaining jealous at others leading a life that I felt I was missing out on (despite my own choosing to leave), I made a plan to reconnect. I qued up my Netflix in earnest and began to watch as many films as I could (which was easy during this long winter in a new city). From classics to recent releases to Oscar Nom’s, I realised that film is such an important medium – much more I think than TV – because it really has the ability to transport you for a solid 1.5-2hrs and change you. I studied film again, I connected with people in the industry who were bonafide and were into film for all the reasons I was. And I even took on a project from Philadelphia just so I could be part of the process again – just in a different way than before. Well, actually, the same reasons I initially was – a coming home project if you will.

I have rated over 2,000 movies on Netflix and counting. While there are a lot of disappointments out there (and a lot of films I avoid), there’s so much good to see. So many movies that change change you and that doesn’t always mean in a dramatic, life-altering way. Sometimes it’s just in little shifts like making you feel good (Amelie), laugh (Waynes World), be charmed (Être et avoir) or want to dress up (The September Issue). Sometimes they just leave you in awe (Giant), help you understand differences (My Brother’s Keeper), give you permission to cry (Phoebe in Wonderland), see yourself (Before Sunset), remind to you pursue your dream (Walk the Line) even when you think it’s over (Shut Up and Sing) or completely impossible (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly).

Movies can make you want to try something new (Whip It), question things (Henry Poole is Here), feel things (Into the Wild), think of things (The Prestige), have an adventure (The Goonies), want to be part of a family (The Family Stone), learn to be supportive of someone (Lars and the Real Girl), or fall in-love with them (The Notebook). They can also teach you about being in high school (Breakfast Club), teenage girls (Mean Girls), standing up for what’s right (To Kill A Mockingbird), being a publishing tycoon (Citizen Kane), finding yourself (Stand by Me), friendship (Fried Green Tomatoes), couture  (Valentino),  horse racing (Seabiscut),  faith (The Song of Bernadette), war (Saving Private Ryan), the old west (Appaloosa), Vegas (Casino), history we should never forget (Schindlers List) the bad side of Hollywood (Sunset Boulevard) and the magical (Chaplin).

A good movie will also introduce you true acting (Last King of Scotland), incredible cinematography (Gone With the Wind), visionary directors (Moulin Rouge), classic songs (The Sound of Music) and incredible steps (Singing In the Rain), talented set designers (Lord of the Rings), stylists (The Duchess) and the power of storytelling (Ghandi).

So after a couple of years of not feeling it, I am totally embracing and supporting film at The Oscars and am beyond excited for tonight’s festivities and celebrations. I’m putting on a dress, I’m sipping champagne, I’m air kissing with gusto and just being proud to be part of an amazing industry. Because at the heart of it all, I’m a story teller and film is one of the best ways to do just that.

(PS: The above photo is from the private screening room at Warner Bros Studios. It was for a private Screening of Benjamin Button and is one of my favourite screening rooms ever – especially because, late at night, it’s amazing to wander the backlot and get caught up in the magic of it all).

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