A supernova is a stellar explosion. They are extremely luminous and cause a burst of radiation that often briefly outshines an entire galaxy, before fading from view over several weeks or months. During this short interval, a supernova can radiate as much energy as the Sun could emit over its life span."
This word, this definition- was the most appropriate comparison I could make when I heard about Cydnie.
She was a star that burned out well before her time.
I was first introduced to Cydnie in the summer of 2007. In short, I was working feverishly to complete my screenplay, preparing for production that would take place the fall of that year. Frustrated with an undeveloped side character; a struggling actress-/slash/-waitress named "Del," I felt there was some purpose for this character that was unrevealed to me. That "Del" somehow had a greater thread to weave in the tapestry of this story.
That's when I heard about Cydnie. Her own back-story that had taken her to the West coast then brought her back to Iowa. She and Novi were about to participate in the concept and dream that we were all blessed to co create together.
Cydnie gave me the honor of using her experiences to breath life into "Del." Once I saw her photo and spoke with her, Cydnie was "Del." She was the inspiration for the character, and one of the catalysts to bring "Flick" to fruition. Thank you for bringing us all together, Nicole.
A character veiled in the second dimension
was brought to light-
a whole conception.
The life and sacrifice
of a young woman-
a dreamer who
went away from home to grow
and follow her passion
returned home so that she could offer
part of her heart
to put her stardom on the back burner
to be a mother. to nurture.
Novi was inside of Cydnie when I met and worked with her. The young woman, round bellied on the sets. She was there, along with many others, whole heartedly donating their time and energy towards something I, and so many others, believed in whole heartedly. Cydnie patiently endured the long days, five months pregnant and fragile during the shoot, but energetic and prepared to shine.
Cydnie was charming, intelligent, capricious, lovable, unpredictable, a thousand adjectives could not do justice to this young presence. Cydnie glowed. She absolutely shined.
When I look at the film footage taken of her, beautiful as it may be-- her true radiance was something that no camera could ever capture.
As we remember this beautiful girl, who will remain to us young forever-- we must remind ourselves how mortal we are, how beautiful and vulnerable and unique as we all are.
We will reflect on all the honey sweet moments with Cydnie and be grateful.
Although she and I were not close, I feel that with the nature of the work we did together- creating art, materializing a vision - in that sort of environment, peope allow themselves to be what they really are, and to exist in a rare and truthful version of ourselves that isn't always possible in the world of mundane work and tasks. For this, I am so grateful for getting to meet the uncensored version of such a beautiful person.
I hope to share what knowledge I have of Cydnie as the actress, Cydnie as the mother, Cydnie on film, Cydnie the dreamer. Whatever I can share with her family, her friends, for Novi, and anyone close to her would be a great honor. Life is so precious, and Cydnie the star will be missed in our universe.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
theft & thieved *** left & leaved
It was January 2007 when I was first a victim of burglary. It was in the concurrent events after this that I rededicated myself to the dream of "Flick" and the commitment and time it takes to make things happen in this world.
The loss of my files, my computer, my music, my cameras all pointed to a lesson that perhaps I was wasting my time, and not taking advantage of my freedom and abilities to create and to write. To be the fullest version of myself I could be.
It's now January, 2009 and i was again a victim of theft, this time in Denver, Colorado. Went to see Gus Van Sant's film "Milk" at the Mayan Theatre, and returned to a car with the window smashed in and my belongings taken. * Shudder *
As I drove from 7 eleven to 7 eleven (the last known charges on my credit cards for 17$... then a trip to McDonald's with my Visa card) I kept noticing silly things... The addresses 333 Iowa Avenue, noticing how my thoughts distracted me from my intuition to retrieve my wallet from the car... Sending my thoughts to the thieves of forgiveness... hoping they will read through my stolen belongings and realize that I have little, but all the hope in the world. I thought maybe the prized letter from a college professor, my addresses and few belongings in the purse might compel them to send the unwanted things back to me.
I thought of the economic crisis we're all in... poor still from poor people, the high that was probably retrieved from smashing a glass window... the sound of glass shattering, the high stakes of getting caught, the getaway, the feast on McDonald's and another crime done with little consequence.
I wonder if they even wonder how I feel.
My Holiday December vacation away from the big city was enlightening in many prospects. The reflections of a year, leaving my hometown and those people dear to my life and my projects... What have I been holding onto?
Grudges, the deceit of my own life and the deceits inflicted upon me... All that I begrudge and rehash, and the unconscious decisions that I so want to pay attention to in my own world.
I hold hope that I will continue to grow, and that as I grow to trust the process, that I will grow to trust myself.
I'm sure these hippie rantings are for the most part, unnoticed to many. But perhaps by sharing, I can heal. People may learn from the experiences of another... a stranger... one that desires to give as much as I take, one that desires to live as much as I may fake.
The loss of my files, my computer, my music, my cameras all pointed to a lesson that perhaps I was wasting my time, and not taking advantage of my freedom and abilities to create and to write. To be the fullest version of myself I could be.
It's now January, 2009 and i was again a victim of theft, this time in Denver, Colorado. Went to see Gus Van Sant's film "Milk" at the Mayan Theatre, and returned to a car with the window smashed in and my belongings taken. * Shudder *
As I drove from 7 eleven to 7 eleven (the last known charges on my credit cards for 17$... then a trip to McDonald's with my Visa card) I kept noticing silly things... The addresses 333 Iowa Avenue, noticing how my thoughts distracted me from my intuition to retrieve my wallet from the car... Sending my thoughts to the thieves of forgiveness... hoping they will read through my stolen belongings and realize that I have little, but all the hope in the world. I thought maybe the prized letter from a college professor, my addresses and few belongings in the purse might compel them to send the unwanted things back to me.
I thought of the economic crisis we're all in... poor still from poor people, the high that was probably retrieved from smashing a glass window... the sound of glass shattering, the high stakes of getting caught, the getaway, the feast on McDonald's and another crime done with little consequence.
I wonder if they even wonder how I feel.
My Holiday December vacation away from the big city was enlightening in many prospects. The reflections of a year, leaving my hometown and those people dear to my life and my projects... What have I been holding onto?
Grudges, the deceit of my own life and the deceits inflicted upon me... All that I begrudge and rehash, and the unconscious decisions that I so want to pay attention to in my own world.
I hold hope that I will continue to grow, and that as I grow to trust the process, that I will grow to trust myself.
I'm sure these hippie rantings are for the most part, unnoticed to many. But perhaps by sharing, I can heal. People may learn from the experiences of another... a stranger... one that desires to give as much as I take, one that desires to live as much as I may fake.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Blueberry Pancakes...
I ate my random dose of Blueberry Pancakes today...
It seems to be one of those things, along with 333 that remind me to keep moving along with the project.
As I personally work on my very own "trust" and "acceptance" issues in this world, I learn that it's not just a concept that you wave around and encourage others to do, but it's an application that comes with daily life, the chaos and reconstruction of one's world-view. Trust is not just a word... it's a way of being.
Mr. B the editor has the film in his capable hands, and I go about my business spreading the word, organizing the papers the thoughts, the to-do list that comes with a project of this magnitude... It's not particularly easy when you don't have the funding, the producers, the distributors, the money to back and propel a project that comes from the heart alone, but the hearts of many have faith, as do I, and one day at a time, we keep out hearts focused on the end result, our feet in the direction of the present path, and our hands moving to keep our minds from demanding guilt or frustration or the "why's?" that will put one in a place of hopelessness.
Hopelessness is not a possibility in this world. If you don't have faith in the process, you have nothing but despair, and despair is not easy to live with.
Reconnecting with old artistic cronies of mine... it seems the deeper I get into the mud and beauty of this process of manifesting a dream, the more I realize that nothing is an accident, and we meet all the right people at the right times to make things work.
Follow your gut, the little voice whispers, and keep swimming. You'll find the way... follow your heart.
It seems to be one of those things, along with 333 that remind me to keep moving along with the project.
As I personally work on my very own "trust" and "acceptance" issues in this world, I learn that it's not just a concept that you wave around and encourage others to do, but it's an application that comes with daily life, the chaos and reconstruction of one's world-view. Trust is not just a word... it's a way of being.
Mr. B the editor has the film in his capable hands, and I go about my business spreading the word, organizing the papers the thoughts, the to-do list that comes with a project of this magnitude... It's not particularly easy when you don't have the funding, the producers, the distributors, the money to back and propel a project that comes from the heart alone, but the hearts of many have faith, as do I, and one day at a time, we keep out hearts focused on the end result, our feet in the direction of the present path, and our hands moving to keep our minds from demanding guilt or frustration or the "why's?" that will put one in a place of hopelessness.
Hopelessness is not a possibility in this world. If you don't have faith in the process, you have nothing but despair, and despair is not easy to live with.
Reconnecting with old artistic cronies of mine... it seems the deeper I get into the mud and beauty of this process of manifesting a dream, the more I realize that nothing is an accident, and we meet all the right people at the right times to make things work.
Follow your gut, the little voice whispers, and keep swimming. You'll find the way... follow your heart.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
november again.
It's the end of November again.
Just a year ago, I was in the cooling wake of the biggest event of my life thus far. The film production of "Flick", the biggest dream I ever dreamed.
Thanksgiving was an event, the whole Hickman clan in Des Moines, Iowa, along with the strays, my film crew that was more my family at that time, my creative family, than my DNA linked one was. We feasted and drank and spoke of our exhaustion, the next day.. back to work.
18 hour days and a sense of urgency, an overwhelming lack of sleep, nourishment and sanity sent me into battles with my self esteem, with my self assurance. Allowing the project to follow it's flow, not trying to grab the reigns too tight, but in post production reflection, i can see my weaknesses.
Those around me say it doesn't matter... the fact that you did it gives creedence to any imperfections. It could be still on scraps of napkins and notebook paper from years past. Maybe thrown away in an intense cleaning ritual, or buried in other paper works and dreamt projects.
But it's digitally in existence and it's being manipulated, first by myself for 600 hours, and now in the hands of another. Calculating... waiting to build enough momentum, enough energy to finish this next task. If it took x amount of momentum to fuel production... how long will it take to get to the finish? To have a finalized product with sound and editing and holistic purpose?
I await, patiently. Living my life, bouting with creative funk and low to the next peak, the next axis. I feel out of alignment in this patience though. What to prepare? The hopelessness of so many other indie films that were never seen.
People ask me if I await fame. I don't, I say. I want to finish something that I began. Then, I will do my best to get it out for the world to view, to take inspiration from, or aim criticism at.
Flick has been my heartbeat for years now, in a large way... it keeps me going.
signing off for now,
L.K.H.
Brooklyn, NY
Just a year ago, I was in the cooling wake of the biggest event of my life thus far. The film production of "Flick", the biggest dream I ever dreamed.
Thanksgiving was an event, the whole Hickman clan in Des Moines, Iowa, along with the strays, my film crew that was more my family at that time, my creative family, than my DNA linked one was. We feasted and drank and spoke of our exhaustion, the next day.. back to work.
18 hour days and a sense of urgency, an overwhelming lack of sleep, nourishment and sanity sent me into battles with my self esteem, with my self assurance. Allowing the project to follow it's flow, not trying to grab the reigns too tight, but in post production reflection, i can see my weaknesses.
Those around me say it doesn't matter... the fact that you did it gives creedence to any imperfections. It could be still on scraps of napkins and notebook paper from years past. Maybe thrown away in an intense cleaning ritual, or buried in other paper works and dreamt projects.
But it's digitally in existence and it's being manipulated, first by myself for 600 hours, and now in the hands of another. Calculating... waiting to build enough momentum, enough energy to finish this next task. If it took x amount of momentum to fuel production... how long will it take to get to the finish? To have a finalized product with sound and editing and holistic purpose?
I await, patiently. Living my life, bouting with creative funk and low to the next peak, the next axis. I feel out of alignment in this patience though. What to prepare? The hopelessness of so many other indie films that were never seen.
People ask me if I await fame. I don't, I say. I want to finish something that I began. Then, I will do my best to get it out for the world to view, to take inspiration from, or aim criticism at.
Flick has been my heartbeat for years now, in a large way... it keeps me going.
signing off for now,
L.K.H.
Brooklyn, NY
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
blog neglect
It's been a hangover. A creative one, at that.
The months after production of "FLiCk" were not easy ones. The drain that the key participants endured was exhausting... broke, hungry, tired; we were all fairly stagnant and still after the pouring out of every ounce of energy we had to give.
I have yet to give myself time to recount the events in my journals, letalone on the interweb.
The whole thing seems like a dream. There are so many details that exist in the back of my mind that I've subconsciously stored for later, safekeeping. It was an endurance test, and we were running a marathon against time.
Fourteen work days. Seven years of dreaming on my part. Twenty years now since the concept of the lighter was conceived by my mentor, Roy and his cohorts Kelix and G Thomas in 1988. 6 months of planning with my incredible co producer, Miss Nicole, and one month, 14 days of which we spent pushing ourselves to limits we never thought possible.
David Anthony, my hero; our cinematographer, lighting specialist, asst. director and believer.
Grant Monohon, my friend and fire; actor, assistant director and acting coach (also stylist.)
Nicole Schafer, my partner in crime, driving me forward; co producer, actress, story input
Aaron Ward, my favorite plant. The sound department, and future film scorist.
Meghen West, friend and rock. My work horse, my runner, assistant in production.
Mersud Dolic, roommate, ex boss, and favorite brother whose not a brother, actor and workhorse.
Roy Fisher, my mentor. Actor, set design and implementer of getting shit done.
Travis Johnson, my mail-order actor, Lead Supporting actor, workhorse and acting coach
Joshua Boyd, inspiration. Actor and dreamer, performer of poetry.
Jessica DeRegnier, my saving grace. Showed up in time to costume, tape, stitch, clean, organize, and save my ass.
Fej Williams, designed the logo and supported
Masses of friends that showed up when they could.
Brandon Lanciel, brought the ladders, the cords, and believed in me.
Kelli Jo Sweeney, available, inspiring, and rocked Lucy hardcore.
Molly Kotval, my easy going and beautiful starshine.
Aaron "AceFoto" Christensen, showed up when he could to save the day and do promotional shots.
Starbucks, for giving us coffee, and giving me a month off to follow my dream.
Kimberly Carpenter, for teaching me and supporting me through my insecurities.
Patrick Boltinghouse, Make-up, female impersonator and beautiful, strong energy.
Lindsey, make up artists, assistant to Nicole, and an amazing individual.
Jason Simpson, for his support and donations of time and Zanzibar Coffee onsight. He is out of sight.
Emily Svec, for being supportive, even in her illness.
John Hansen, for donating an editing program and his emails of strength during the hardest moments of my life.
Jim Nervig, for law advice and starting up my LLC, Axis Manifest
Kevin Thomas McCarthy, second assistant director and believer in the dream
Nick Strickland, for all his strength, support, and teaching skills in post production editing and hope.
Seth Nosbusch
Jonny Ringo Gearino
Melissa Engleen
Brent Houzenga and Michelle Phillips
Blake Brown
Justin Collins
Jared, Rainbow, and the Locust Tap
The Beechwood Lounge, for allowing us to be random.
Scott Baskerville, of Scot's Shoppe, Valley Junction, for allowing us to create on his premise.
Cydnie Owens, my beautiful inspiration for "Del" and her hardwork
Cydnie's dude Brandon for being around
Viken, for photography and group bullshit
Heather and Laura of Lasting Impressions for being the hottest drunk girls I have ever met.
Eric Wickes, for support and showing up when I needed him
Katherine Rains, for putting up with Joshua being gone all the time, and for her help with the Poster
Express Print on Ingersoll for lending a hand
Garrett from Earlham Savings Bank and the Loan!
Kirk Hartung, for thoughts on the logo and laws
Brandon Mann, for showing up and giving it his all to be "Friend" in the film.
Roy Fisher and his Limo and love and support and for giving me "Flick"
G Thomas Fergerson, for believing in me and helping me to establish a new story
Kelix Williams, for his support and love and patience in editing
My parents, for putting up with me and all my talk before the time was right, the stars aligned to make this happen.
My sisters. I love you.
My grandparents, Cy and Roz Kirk for believing in me and my dream
Carole Lee Dean, from From the Heart Productions, for her phone call, denying a grant, but congratulations on the concept
Satyrus for his consultation
All my friends who watched me disappear for a year, and welcomed me back when I was ready to emerge.
All the randoms that loved the idea.
The Waveland Cafe,
My father, for providing apartment #6 for me to trash and rearrange, over and over and over again.
Karen Downing, my creative writing teacher from highschool that inspires me every day.
Mr Jim Lamson, my drama teacher from highschool that continues to inspire me.
Jason Scott Hoffman, for being my teddy bear trooper.
Jimmy John's for putting up with our enormous orders at 2am
Big Tomato Pizza for providing pizzas to feed the troops.
The City of Des Moines, for not arresting us at 3am shooting film on the streets of our city
The Screen Actor's Guild, Kay Woods and all the awesome folks that didn't restrict us although our paperwork was late.
Micah Gerger, for helping me with the script and his belief in the dream
the number 333
three stars
The East Village
The Continental-- sorry the christmas lighting is still up
Dr. Mithra Osiris Gonzalez, for his belief in me
All the nurses at Lutheran hospital when I was hospitalized for three days in September.
Linda Monohon, R.I.P.
i don't know how many names I've missed in the seven years it's taken me to get to this point.
If you know me. If we've ever spoken, if I've ever handed you a card and asked for your support, Thank you.
I feel so rich with gratitude and abundance for every one and everything that has ever touched my life and led me to this point.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Signing off for now,
With love,
Lauren Kathleen Hickman
The months after production of "FLiCk" were not easy ones. The drain that the key participants endured was exhausting... broke, hungry, tired; we were all fairly stagnant and still after the pouring out of every ounce of energy we had to give.
I have yet to give myself time to recount the events in my journals, letalone on the interweb.
The whole thing seems like a dream. There are so many details that exist in the back of my mind that I've subconsciously stored for later, safekeeping. It was an endurance test, and we were running a marathon against time.
Fourteen work days. Seven years of dreaming on my part. Twenty years now since the concept of the lighter was conceived by my mentor, Roy and his cohorts Kelix and G Thomas in 1988. 6 months of planning with my incredible co producer, Miss Nicole, and one month, 14 days of which we spent pushing ourselves to limits we never thought possible.
David Anthony, my hero; our cinematographer, lighting specialist, asst. director and believer.
Grant Monohon, my friend and fire; actor, assistant director and acting coach (also stylist.)
Nicole Schafer, my partner in crime, driving me forward; co producer, actress, story input
Aaron Ward, my favorite plant. The sound department, and future film scorist.
Meghen West, friend and rock. My work horse, my runner, assistant in production.
Mersud Dolic, roommate, ex boss, and favorite brother whose not a brother, actor and workhorse.
Roy Fisher, my mentor. Actor, set design and implementer of getting shit done.
Travis Johnson, my mail-order actor, Lead Supporting actor, workhorse and acting coach
Joshua Boyd, inspiration. Actor and dreamer, performer of poetry.
Jessica DeRegnier, my saving grace. Showed up in time to costume, tape, stitch, clean, organize, and save my ass.
Fej Williams, designed the logo and supported
Masses of friends that showed up when they could.
Brandon Lanciel, brought the ladders, the cords, and believed in me.
Kelli Jo Sweeney, available, inspiring, and rocked Lucy hardcore.
Molly Kotval, my easy going and beautiful starshine.
Aaron "AceFoto" Christensen, showed up when he could to save the day and do promotional shots.
Starbucks, for giving us coffee, and giving me a month off to follow my dream.
Kimberly Carpenter, for teaching me and supporting me through my insecurities.
Patrick Boltinghouse, Make-up, female impersonator and beautiful, strong energy.
Lindsey, make up artists, assistant to Nicole, and an amazing individual.
Jason Simpson, for his support and donations of time and Zanzibar Coffee onsight. He is out of sight.
Emily Svec, for being supportive, even in her illness.
John Hansen, for donating an editing program and his emails of strength during the hardest moments of my life.
Jim Nervig, for law advice and starting up my LLC, Axis Manifest
Kevin Thomas McCarthy, second assistant director and believer in the dream
Nick Strickland, for all his strength, support, and teaching skills in post production editing and hope.
Seth Nosbusch
Jonny Ringo Gearino
Melissa Engleen
Brent Houzenga and Michelle Phillips
Blake Brown
Justin Collins
Jared, Rainbow, and the Locust Tap
The Beechwood Lounge, for allowing us to be random.
Scott Baskerville, of Scot's Shoppe, Valley Junction, for allowing us to create on his premise.
Cydnie Owens, my beautiful inspiration for "Del" and her hardwork
Cydnie's dude Brandon for being around
Viken, for photography and group bullshit
Heather and Laura of Lasting Impressions for being the hottest drunk girls I have ever met.
Eric Wickes, for support and showing up when I needed him
Katherine Rains, for putting up with Joshua being gone all the time, and for her help with the Poster
Express Print on Ingersoll for lending a hand
Garrett from Earlham Savings Bank and the Loan!
Kirk Hartung, for thoughts on the logo and laws
Brandon Mann, for showing up and giving it his all to be "Friend" in the film.
Roy Fisher and his Limo and love and support and for giving me "Flick"
G Thomas Fergerson, for believing in me and helping me to establish a new story
Kelix Williams, for his support and love and patience in editing
My parents, for putting up with me and all my talk before the time was right, the stars aligned to make this happen.
My sisters. I love you.
My grandparents, Cy and Roz Kirk for believing in me and my dream
Carole Lee Dean, from From the Heart Productions, for her phone call, denying a grant, but congratulations on the concept
Satyrus for his consultation
All my friends who watched me disappear for a year, and welcomed me back when I was ready to emerge.
All the randoms that loved the idea.
The Waveland Cafe,
My father, for providing apartment #6 for me to trash and rearrange, over and over and over again.
Karen Downing, my creative writing teacher from highschool that inspires me every day.
Mr Jim Lamson, my drama teacher from highschool that continues to inspire me.
Jason Scott Hoffman, for being my teddy bear trooper.
Jimmy John's for putting up with our enormous orders at 2am
Big Tomato Pizza for providing pizzas to feed the troops.
The City of Des Moines, for not arresting us at 3am shooting film on the streets of our city
The Screen Actor's Guild, Kay Woods and all the awesome folks that didn't restrict us although our paperwork was late.
Micah Gerger, for helping me with the script and his belief in the dream
the number 333
three stars
The East Village
The Continental-- sorry the christmas lighting is still up
Dr. Mithra Osiris Gonzalez, for his belief in me
All the nurses at Lutheran hospital when I was hospitalized for three days in September.
Linda Monohon, R.I.P.
i don't know how many names I've missed in the seven years it's taken me to get to this point.
If you know me. If we've ever spoken, if I've ever handed you a card and asked for your support, Thank you.
I feel so rich with gratitude and abundance for every one and everything that has ever touched my life and led me to this point.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Signing off for now,
With love,
Lauren Kathleen Hickman
Friday, December 21, 2007
Solstice Reflection
I'm not one myself to read bulletins... only if the title or the person catches my attention. I'm not good about reading friends blogs, or sending myspace messages, or making phone calls... but I am good at running into people at the right place at the right time.
For some reason, I felt guided to post this, hoping my friends, compadres, homies, cronies, crew, shipmates, fellow humans I've connected with, may take a moment to read my words and except my gratitude for friendships and support in life.
This year, 2007, has been one of transformation. Although we are all changing and transforming without even knowing it, I've been guided to a place of confidence and humble security in myself and my abilities... guided only by intuition and dreams, I've become a visceral being. An Axis of Manifestation.
Last fall, I asked the universe to take away all things from me that were no longer of service... my anger, my frustrations, insecurity.
The result of that was, indeed, healing in context, but in the literal sense, I had my apartment burglarized in January of this year, and lost all of the few belongings I had that meant something, that held my art, my computer, my cameras, my files, my inncocence burst when I walked into an apartment covered in shards of glass, and raped, bed sheets pulled off, belongings fingered by strange hands, strangely familiar hands....?
After that, it took me a while to piece my mind together... Kickboxing helped with the anger aspect, but what message was the universe showing me? Was I not using my possessions to make things happen? My dreams... was I wasting time?
I assumed "yes" and commmited to moving forward with a project that I've talked and talked and writtten about and dreamed about and envisioned, and winced and prayed and prayed and wished would come true,
"FLiCk" in 2001 was an impossibility for this young dreamer.
"FLiCk" in 2007 was proof that anything is possible.
As soon as i made the voiced commitment to the project.... that I was, indeed, moving to New York and getting my ass in gear for getting this done, imagining myself under the high buildings, towering above my little self, walking in and asking strangers for help, I was scared. But I knew what i wanted, and I had to listen to my mom's repetitious words.
"Shit, or get off the pot."
Thanks for your words of encouragement.
I was working at Vertigo at the time... the bar on Ingersoll were souls met up for no reason, drawn into it's unconscious whirlpool. That's where I met Merso, Megs, Julie, found a strength in myself and my ability to wield bullshit far away from me from drunken clients. Quit the Domestic Violence Shelter knowing that my purpose is not to fuel a fucked up machine, but to inspire others to grow and change coming from within. Vertigo. That's where I ran into Kelix Williams, G. Thomas, old cronies of my mentor, Roy A. Fisher.
A few words slipped out, and a new opportunity.
I didn't need to leave Des Moines to go to New York and make a film. I could bring New York necessities here, and make my project where I had the support and resources to make a low budget film.
Shortly after that, I went to an intuitive counselor here in Des Moines, ask me for details if you want, this is not something I usually do, but there was a strong need for me to get some outside words to help get solid.
Shortly after, movement, change... a summer love that fed off communication and candor and fun and new hope. An ambitious young woman that became my cheerleader, my roommate, my actress, my co-producer and an absolute inspiration.
Friends that believed in me, and believed in the dream.. one that extended further beyond my imagination than I ever dreamt possible.
Vertigo closed. Freedom, room for new birth.
I travelled a bit with my father and worked on the final drafts of Flick, after having been drafting for 5 years already... I flew to California and drove acrossed the states in two and a half days back to Des Moines with my little sister/best friend... the salt flats of Utah smelling of mint oreo dirt and my ambitions. Received a job at Starbucks, and tied the multi colored dreadlocks of Ukweli into my own hair.... another random connection at Blondies Beauty Parlor, donations to the dream.
Rewriting rewriting, meetings, work, visualization, phone calls, airline tickets, moving out, moving into the womb on 29th street... A Kidney Infection that forced me to rest and reflect at the hospital. A new partner, a nervous signature at the bank, the naming Axis Manifest, LLC ...finishing the script at 4am October 4, 2007, just in time for the first read through... the loss of a parent for the dearest of friends of mine.
Too many parallels, too many connections between the story and the reality, the characters and their players. Intentions of cathartic healing, of acting out our alter egos, our shadows, our light and darks, prancing acrossed metaphors that lead to our own simple enlightenments.
A prayer asking for guidance.
The gratitude that got me through the hardest days I've experienced in creative processes.
The words of strangers sticking with me, the support of clients, friends, family, teachers, fellow students. We believe in you. The universe believes in you.
Two years ago on a cruiseship in the middle of the Baltic seas, a mentor and friend from Turkey told me that any dream or thought with enough love behind it will find away to manifest and materialize itself.
With no experience, I, with the help of a few solid and amazing individuals, moved mountains in a matter of weeks... so few of us with a few words in our hearts to keep us going.
Faith. Trust.
Trust.
The visceral moments were what drove me... Rather than listening to my reeling mind, I followed the feeling in my chest, my true radar.
Asking for the guidance of my teacher, Joy Renee, who died the day before I went to hospital this year.
The Violet Flame.
Transformation is not always daisies and sunshine.
Transformation can be ugly, brutal, simple, aware, death, stagnance, beautiful disaster.
It's all about choice, and what we do with it. This is Our human experience.
I wonder sometimes if I am meant to be a beacon for others. That if my dream can find a way to materialize, that anyone with enough passion, faith and trust, and get up and go to them, can find away to make anything happen.
That my thirteen year old self is giving me thumbs up sign from the dark notebooks of a depressed youth, so conscious, too young to understand.
Doing exactly what I mean to be doing.
The laughter of my classmates circa fifth grade, nine years old, laughing at me,still stings my ears, as I said to our guest speaker
"I believe anything is possible."
With enough love, with enough patience, awareness, conscious attention to one's intuition, I've followed my heart, and I had a crew of the most amazing, brilliant, talented, honest, faithful, fantastic group of people I have ever been blessed to meet.
I hope some of you read this and realize how very much you mean to me. My "Thank you's" on set became repetetive, but with each cadence, my gratitude resonated more and more.
Those hard days, asleep at 6am, awake at 10 30 am with phone ringing and plans to make, wanting to run away, wanting to get the fuck out of there, to crawl in a hole, to cry, to weep, throw my arms up and surrender, too hard, too much, so much chaos.
Gratitude, I'd say to myself. You've asked for this gift, don't run from it.
Gratitude, to all of you, on this day, on the Solstice, the day the sun is born again, and winter is upon us, I wish you a holiday time of love, reflection, family, catharsis, and anything that you need it to be for your own healing and growth.
I wish the best in 2008 for all of you....
And may you receive all that you desire from life, for it is only this one time that you have the opportunity to be you, at this place, at this time in the span of existence.
With great love, gratitude, warmth and candor.
Lauren Kathleen Hickman
December 21, 2007
For some reason, I felt guided to post this, hoping my friends, compadres, homies, cronies, crew, shipmates, fellow humans I've connected with, may take a moment to read my words and except my gratitude for friendships and support in life.
This year, 2007, has been one of transformation. Although we are all changing and transforming without even knowing it, I've been guided to a place of confidence and humble security in myself and my abilities... guided only by intuition and dreams, I've become a visceral being. An Axis of Manifestation.
Last fall, I asked the universe to take away all things from me that were no longer of service... my anger, my frustrations, insecurity.
The result of that was, indeed, healing in context, but in the literal sense, I had my apartment burglarized in January of this year, and lost all of the few belongings I had that meant something, that held my art, my computer, my cameras, my files, my inncocence burst when I walked into an apartment covered in shards of glass, and raped, bed sheets pulled off, belongings fingered by strange hands, strangely familiar hands....?
After that, it took me a while to piece my mind together... Kickboxing helped with the anger aspect, but what message was the universe showing me? Was I not using my possessions to make things happen? My dreams... was I wasting time?
I assumed "yes" and commmited to moving forward with a project that I've talked and talked and writtten about and dreamed about and envisioned, and winced and prayed and prayed and wished would come true,
"FLiCk" in 2001 was an impossibility for this young dreamer.
"FLiCk" in 2007 was proof that anything is possible.
As soon as i made the voiced commitment to the project.... that I was, indeed, moving to New York and getting my ass in gear for getting this done, imagining myself under the high buildings, towering above my little self, walking in and asking strangers for help, I was scared. But I knew what i wanted, and I had to listen to my mom's repetitious words.
"Shit, or get off the pot."
Thanks for your words of encouragement.
I was working at Vertigo at the time... the bar on Ingersoll were souls met up for no reason, drawn into it's unconscious whirlpool. That's where I met Merso, Megs, Julie, found a strength in myself and my ability to wield bullshit far away from me from drunken clients. Quit the Domestic Violence Shelter knowing that my purpose is not to fuel a fucked up machine, but to inspire others to grow and change coming from within. Vertigo. That's where I ran into Kelix Williams, G. Thomas, old cronies of my mentor, Roy A. Fisher.
A few words slipped out, and a new opportunity.
I didn't need to leave Des Moines to go to New York and make a film. I could bring New York necessities here, and make my project where I had the support and resources to make a low budget film.
Shortly after that, I went to an intuitive counselor here in Des Moines, ask me for details if you want, this is not something I usually do, but there was a strong need for me to get some outside words to help get solid.
Shortly after, movement, change... a summer love that fed off communication and candor and fun and new hope. An ambitious young woman that became my cheerleader, my roommate, my actress, my co-producer and an absolute inspiration.
Friends that believed in me, and believed in the dream.. one that extended further beyond my imagination than I ever dreamt possible.
Vertigo closed. Freedom, room for new birth.
I travelled a bit with my father and worked on the final drafts of Flick, after having been drafting for 5 years already... I flew to California and drove acrossed the states in two and a half days back to Des Moines with my little sister/best friend... the salt flats of Utah smelling of mint oreo dirt and my ambitions. Received a job at Starbucks, and tied the multi colored dreadlocks of Ukweli into my own hair.... another random connection at Blondies Beauty Parlor, donations to the dream.
Rewriting rewriting, meetings, work, visualization, phone calls, airline tickets, moving out, moving into the womb on 29th street... A Kidney Infection that forced me to rest and reflect at the hospital. A new partner, a nervous signature at the bank, the naming Axis Manifest, LLC ...finishing the script at 4am October 4, 2007, just in time for the first read through... the loss of a parent for the dearest of friends of mine.
Too many parallels, too many connections between the story and the reality, the characters and their players. Intentions of cathartic healing, of acting out our alter egos, our shadows, our light and darks, prancing acrossed metaphors that lead to our own simple enlightenments.
A prayer asking for guidance.
The gratitude that got me through the hardest days I've experienced in creative processes.
The words of strangers sticking with me, the support of clients, friends, family, teachers, fellow students. We believe in you. The universe believes in you.
Two years ago on a cruiseship in the middle of the Baltic seas, a mentor and friend from Turkey told me that any dream or thought with enough love behind it will find away to manifest and materialize itself.
With no experience, I, with the help of a few solid and amazing individuals, moved mountains in a matter of weeks... so few of us with a few words in our hearts to keep us going.
Faith. Trust.
Trust.
The visceral moments were what drove me... Rather than listening to my reeling mind, I followed the feeling in my chest, my true radar.
Asking for the guidance of my teacher, Joy Renee, who died the day before I went to hospital this year.
The Violet Flame.
Transformation is not always daisies and sunshine.
Transformation can be ugly, brutal, simple, aware, death, stagnance, beautiful disaster.
It's all about choice, and what we do with it. This is Our human experience.
I wonder sometimes if I am meant to be a beacon for others. That if my dream can find a way to materialize, that anyone with enough passion, faith and trust, and get up and go to them, can find away to make anything happen.
That my thirteen year old self is giving me thumbs up sign from the dark notebooks of a depressed youth, so conscious, too young to understand.
Doing exactly what I mean to be doing.
The laughter of my classmates circa fifth grade, nine years old, laughing at me,still stings my ears, as I said to our guest speaker
"I believe anything is possible."
With enough love, with enough patience, awareness, conscious attention to one's intuition, I've followed my heart, and I had a crew of the most amazing, brilliant, talented, honest, faithful, fantastic group of people I have ever been blessed to meet.
I hope some of you read this and realize how very much you mean to me. My "Thank you's" on set became repetetive, but with each cadence, my gratitude resonated more and more.
Those hard days, asleep at 6am, awake at 10 30 am with phone ringing and plans to make, wanting to run away, wanting to get the fuck out of there, to crawl in a hole, to cry, to weep, throw my arms up and surrender, too hard, too much, so much chaos.
Gratitude, I'd say to myself. You've asked for this gift, don't run from it.
Gratitude, to all of you, on this day, on the Solstice, the day the sun is born again, and winter is upon us, I wish you a holiday time of love, reflection, family, catharsis, and anything that you need it to be for your own healing and growth.
I wish the best in 2008 for all of you....
And may you receive all that you desire from life, for it is only this one time that you have the opportunity to be you, at this place, at this time in the span of existence.
With great love, gratitude, warmth and candor.
Lauren Kathleen Hickman
December 21, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
closer
We're a week from production mandatory meetings.
LLC's set up. Credit line established. Flights from New York to Des Moines and back purchased.
Here comes Trust, to throw us blows and punches in the face, testing our strength... our endurance, our faith.
The screenplay, now organized into sections of years and editing is thicker than a phonebook.
Changes in dialogue, in purpose, in intention, transformed to fit more and more in the concept of transmutation, transformation.
The Violet Flame representing the cathartic and enlightening pain and cause of the characters need for movement, forward, backwards, sideways, up or down, death, rebirth.
As I've said. Trust. I'm lacking sleep, but full of gratitude and faith in how this will all follow through.
LLC's set up. Credit line established. Flights from New York to Des Moines and back purchased.
Here comes Trust, to throw us blows and punches in the face, testing our strength... our endurance, our faith.
The screenplay, now organized into sections of years and editing is thicker than a phonebook.
Changes in dialogue, in purpose, in intention, transformed to fit more and more in the concept of transmutation, transformation.
The Violet Flame representing the cathartic and enlightening pain and cause of the characters need for movement, forward, backwards, sideways, up or down, death, rebirth.
As I've said. Trust. I'm lacking sleep, but full of gratitude and faith in how this will all follow through.
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