Category: Death and Grief

Teton Reckoning Receives Love From ScreenCraft Drama

And now I can add Screencraft Drama Competition 2021 to the credits.

Logline:

In 1890, a spirited Irish lass makes her way from Texas to the Idaho territory only to find herself in the middle of a bloody dispute between her new husband and the man he wronged.

Feedback from ScreenCraft reader:

OMG this is a fantastic script! In fact, upon reading the final line I said out loud, “Oh my god.” This was an awesome read; pure entertainment – an escape – from start to finish. I would describe this as a super-cinematic, colorful and romantic western fairy-tale. The writing demonstrates a mastering of the art of screenwriting, a clear understanding of the world… and a gift for gun-slinging action sequences. One of the many strengths of the script is your ability to relay backstory and exposition organically and in a non-obvious manner.

Semi-finals will be announced tomorrow. I’m hopeful.

~ debi

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OUT OF THE WALLS and AUSTIN REVOLUTION FILM FESTIVAL

I am crazzzy excited that OUT OF THE WALLS is an Official Selection at ARFF!

Because of Covid, the festival is being delayed until March 25-27, 2021.

I will be there! No way I’ll miss a live screening in Austin.

And no way I’ll miss ARFF – such a fun festival.

~ debi

Please join me in shouting out to ARFF:

https://www.facebook.com/austinrevolutionfilmfest

https://www.instagram.com/austinrevolution/

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RIP Dixie Yazbeck

October 26, 2001 – May 14, 2016.

debipic

Dixie has been my constant roommate, travel companion and comforter for almost fifteen years.

Little pieces of life leave. Fissures in the dam. And I cry endlessly with each. Those fissures repair themselves eventually or that dam would break and I’d flood all life downstream.

Dixie

I imagine Towanda Yazcat and Fefe will terrorize me for a few days as they adjust to not having Dixie to pick on (don’t get me wrong – she loved the attention). And I’m a big sloppy mess.

I love you, Dixie. Forever.

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Starfish or Just Stars or Maybe Cats

If I climb out the window, my mind will be free. I don’t have to drive my truck home. I just have to think myself home.

And that Negroni will be iced and waiting on the counter.

Susan is sitting in the living room. She never really died. They just told me she did ‘cause I was a really bad influence on her even though they always told me I was good for her.

But I showed them all and outlived most everyone. And then started over.

Well kinda, lots of things never change. Maybe they should change. I need to walk on the beach.

Horses would rally around me and lift me on their withers and charge through the waves breaking on the shore. We’d head for the sunset that would never set. We’d be forever heading for it… Until it abruptly becomes the sunrise.

I’ll have to go back to work tomorrow, won’t I? But now I don’t have my truck at home and I don’t know how to get there.

Can I call a shooting star? I’d get there really quickly. Ok, I feel better now. But I’ll have to go to work before the sun rises or the star won’t pick me up. Maybe I can call the horses back.

Starfish are beautiful. But they smell bad if we take them from their homes. We don’t even realize they are at home and they become sad and die when we love them and want them as our possessions.

Maybe the star would die too. I wouldn’t want that.

So maybe I have to go home through the great big door in the front of the building – not out the window. NO! I refuse. I’ll find another way.

Doors are confining. Windows are the answer.

The window to my soul wants to open. I’m not sure if it wants to let something out or let something in. So it kinda jumps off the tracks sometimes. Then I can’t get it back on the tracks and when it rains water leaks all over the floor. What a mess. And sometimes spiders come in and the cats play with them. But the cats never clean up after themselves.

If I could I’d have twenty cats. The litter box would have to be ten feet by ten feet. And they would all have to follow the number one rule: cover that shit UP! Whew.

When I come back in my next life I want to be a cat.

 

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Overfunction?

I’m an overfunctioner. I just learned that word this morning on the way to work while I was listening to Brene’ Brown’s Rising Strong (a must-read for anyone who considers themselves part of the human race).

I recognized my own tendencies as Brene’ was describing the person who “does” instead of “feels” in the face of grief. Good lord – the very definition of debi in times of sorrow! I push aside the horrible overwhelming feelings and “take care of things.”

But not only that, by taking over so much, I allow others to fall into underfunctioning. According to Brene’, when someone becomes an underfunctioner they fully feel, they allow others to do for them – all the things that I fight so hard against for myself. Underfunctioning can be a two-edged sword. It can encourage drowning in sorrow, depression. But, and this is a big BUT…

Underfunctioning can also be a blessing, one that I need to somehow embrace. I allowed, probably encouraged, my now incredibly capable daughter to be an underfunctioner during times of grief. And it burned her with searing pain at times – feelings she often didn’t know how to handle. But through the years she has figured out how to make a balance. She feels (so much more than I do) grief deep in her soul, accepts it and then she takes baby steps, bigger steps and finally walks boldly away from it. My grief follows me, haunts me, tries to rise above the surface and I just keep pushing it down with to-do lists.

As I was typing this, I listened to Joe Biden speak of not knowing whether he will run for president. I admire the man – he is feeling his grief and not embracing an overfunctioner’s attitude. He stated honestly, with heart-wrenching pain in his voice, that he doesn’t know what he will do, whether he will run for president of the United States. With only a few words, Vice President Biden laid his soul bare to the world. “True bravery and bad-assery” as Brene’ would say.

When will I allow myself to fully feel like Mr. Biden and my daughter do? Will I ever allow it? And if I do, will I ever recover afterward? I think that is probably what I fear the most.

But! I have an extensive support network and I’m intelligent and could navigate to health. Maybe I’ll truly convince myself of that and get there someday.

~ debi

And Happy Birthday to me.

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