Sunday, March 22, 2015

An Innie in an Outtie World - An Introverted Indie Filmmaker's Guide to Navigating the Social Scene

  1. Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It's not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it's just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

    As I continue to get older, I certainly thought I would become more and more extroverted. I just thought I'd get better in public situations, networking, and mingling in crowds. Unfortunately, I have come to realize this is not the case. 
    I worked an extrovert's job for about two years. As an operations manager at a non-profit theater, I had to talk. A lot. About the organization, mostly. Sometimes about myself. I had to make small talk, big talk, and everything in between. I hid behind wine glasses and always ended up drinking more than I naturally would. Why? Because I was so uncomfortable. This job fell apart for many reasons. Life threw us some unexpected punches, sure, but I could also feel my time as a lively extrovert was coming to a painful end. 
    While at this job, a co-worker told me that "all jobs were basically like high school with a ranking social order and I just had to get used to it, unless I wanted to live in a cabin in the woods and never see any human being ever again." I didn't really know what kind of point she was trying to make, but that cabin sounded quite lovely! For popular people and those who thrived in high school, maybe this world is your oyster. Every painstakingly, unbearable day of high school sucked the feeling right out of my life and just wasn't my cup of tea. Hence, I will not be attending my 10 year reunion, but I digress. 
    I got far away from the non-profit, socialite world. I ran fast into the little life Jon and I created post-diagonsis. This world was amazing! I worked as an organic grocery store clerk and had a little social interaction, but I mostly enjoyed the solitude of that job on weekdays in January. I was very content in this day to day world, but it was soon uprooted when the store closed and we had to find a new apartment. Times were changing and, with Jon's encouragement, I began pursuing my graduate degree. It's strange, the events that lead us to the present, but I'm thankful for where we are. 
    Which brings me back to my dilemma. I have become unbearably introverted. That's totally okay when it's me and Jon. Or when I'm writing, which I find to be my favorite activity these days. However, my head has lifted after years of isolation and the time has come for me to be more... I cringe... social! I know others can relate to this issue. I've talked about it with many friends. Many who are artists who feel the same pressure to promote themselves via social media and other outlets. It's really, really hard. 
    Currently, I am rehearsing a play and preparing my feature screenplay for competitions and pitching opportunities. This is not an ideal situation for an introvert. As for the play, I feel very insecure and I'm starting to wonder why I ever had the desire to act - especially in theater - because you have to do it in front of so many people. With my screenplay, I've come to realize writing was the easy part. Now, people ask me what it's about and I need to be able to present it and maybe even make them support it. I'm actually very surprised because I used to ace presentations, but when I pitched my screenplay in class... it was a disaster. And I am not exaggerating. A classmate offered advice at the end: "I want to see more Robyn" he said. I shuffled because the truth was I think he did. I think he saw too much of the actual shy, introverted, I always got sick at my friends' birthday parties Robyn. And it wasn't pretty. 
    In all of this, I don't want to lose myself - something I felt happened in the nonprofit job. I have to believe I can find some kind of balance between the real, genuine Robyn and the Robyn that can sell a movie in 10 seconds flat. After all, Jon and I have been through a lot and all that makes us who we are as artists. It may make us a little shy and awkward in public, but that's a price we have to pay for the challenges we've faced. I'm sure I can find a nice balance and I know I can always kill it in a sit down, let's have a cup of coffee situation. In the meantime, here are a few tips from one introvert to another on how to be yourself and resolve some of these issues: 
    6 Tips for Introvert, Indie Filmmakers Navigating a Festival's Social Scene
    1) The INTRODUCTION is KEY! Jon and I were recently introduced as "young filmmakers" to a prestigious guest of honor. This, my friends, does not work for me. We are young but we're not making home movies in our backyard. We are legitimate filmmakers and just as accomplished as most at our age. We've also been through a lot - a lot more than most go through in a lifetime. And we're also super smart. I won't say that to your face, but I will write it in my blog. When I was introduced as such, my world turned upside down and my eyes probably glowed red. It felt patronizing and very condescending. I'm sure this person meant nothing of the sort, but it hurt. So, here's my advice: 
    A) INTRODUCE YOURSELF! I'm working on an introduction of myself that will sound both modest, professional, and (dare I say!) confident. I haven't figured out the logistics yet, but I'm working on it. If you have a hard time doing this...
    B) Have someone you LOVE and TRUST introduce you! AKA - Don't ask anyone to introduce you to someone important, unless that person is Jen West! Jen West is one of my best friends and an incredibly amazing filmmaker. Jen is a kind, old soul. She could spend hours talking to filmmakers about her crazy talent and incredible accomplishments, and not even concern herself with others, but she doesn't - she helps others! I've seen her do it with us and with many others. Jen is compassionate, giving, and totally selfless. Jen gives the best introductions. Why? Because they are genuine. No BS! Jon and I have even pondered hiring Jen to introduce us on a full time basis. Just every time we enter a room - Jen goes first with the intro! It would probably make life a lot easier. So, my advice is to find someone amazing and supportive to introduce you. Those people, and ONLY those people, can introduce you to producers, filmmakers, and fans. If you don't have a Jen on hand, do it yourself. You are your best representation. PS: This works both ways. Intelligently introduce your peers with enthusiasm or don't introduce them at all. 
    ***Little Cabbage directed by Jen West screens at the Atlanta Film Festival on March 28th at 4:30PM at The Plaza Theater and alongside Nirvana at the upcoming Ozark Foothills FilmFest
    2) PRACTICE what you PREACH. I'm working on this. I never wanted to be that person that practiced my pitch over and over. I thought it sounded kind of pompous and arrogant. Guess what? If you are an introvert like moi, you have to do this. I'm sorry, but you do. You have to practice talking about yourself, your film, your production company, your art, etc. It's all a part of knowing yourself, your story, and translating that to others. 
    3) No one wants to see me FAIL? Jon recently told me that my biggest flaw as an actor was my inability to believe in myself. Those words may sound harsh, but it's true. I don't believe in myself as an actor and I never really have. This has stood in my way. When I went to auditions, I was convinced the directors, casting agents, and producers on the other side of the table were secret members of the Nazi party and wanted to exterminate me. Now, I feel that way in social settings. "All these people want me dead!" I think to myself. Although it may seem that way, it's just not the truth. People want to see you do your best work. They may actually want to be your friend or collaborate with you. Just because their gaze trailed off for one second doesn't necessarily mean they want to strangle you. Keep focused and trust in humanity. Not everyone is a jerk. And if they are, screw 'em! 
    4) ALCOHOL! It's okay to have a glass of wine or two for relaxation. It may even be necessary! Meeting people you admire or want to work with is tough. And they don't always live up to your expectations. A glass of wine can take the edge off. 
    5) The Small Connections Are What Truly Matter! Yes, I know we all want Gus Van Sant to Ben Affleck and Matt Damon us into stardom, but it doesn't always happen that way! Meeting the big name filmmakers and producers is a lot of fun, but usually they have a billion things going on at these events. The connections that truly matter are with your peers and other indie artists struggling to be heard. Listen to them! There you will find your new best friend, future collaborator, and possibly a kindred soul. 
    6) Let your WORK speak for itself! If all else fails and you are still an awkward, bumbling mess who wants to cover her face with hair and sink into the earth, don't fret too much. Just get busy! Get back to what you love to do! Keep writing. Watch a movie you love. Plan your next production. Talking about what you do is tough, especially for us introverts. Forget about it! Just wait until you screen your film or keep sending out your screenplay. Let your friends read it - those you really trust (ahem... Jen West) - and let the work speak for itself. At the end of the day, the work will always be more powerful than any words or presentation you can put on. And that's wonderful news!!! 
    ***For additional introvert insight, check out The Introvert Entrepreneur. I will be buying the book! 
    Giving my best "extrovert" smile and knee pop at the Atlanta Film Festival red carpet alongside Jonathan and the incomparable Jen West & James Martin! Do yourself a favor and get to know them! 

    Good Luck, 
    Robyn

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Super Man

It feels like it's been a while since I posted. I guess it hasn't, just so much has happened. I wrapped up classes in my second quarter of grad school. I'm busy rehearsing a play, rewriting my feature screenplay, and working on a new initiative to unite female filmmakers with the Atlanta Film Festival. I'm feeling blessed.

Cancer has not been a common topic in our household over the past few weeks and that is a wonderful thing, a true blessing. Jon continues on his current treatment and feels great. Right now, we're laying in bed catching up on Gotham after playing a few board games and watching Grease 2 (now on Netflix!) I'm on my spring break. We've gone for several walks (and even a run today)! It's funny, we talk about moving to the city in the future, but then go for a long walk in Serenbe, meet the latest batch of little piglets - I swear off bacon and we switch back to staying here a while longer. That's about the extent of our "future" talk now. Of course, we'd still like to have a family, have plans to produce two short films this summer, and I constantly worry about our next plan of action when it comes to treatment, but for now, we are doing our very best to be in the moment. Truly.

An unfortunate event did occur concerning Jon's insurance. Your outpouring of love made us feel so much better about this situation. Thank you for the support, advice, and words of encouragement you offered. We truly appreciate it. And need it. I feel like it will all be resolved soon. We appreciate your continued prayers on this and his treatment plan. I can already feel a slight anxiety with scans approaching in April.

One of my favorite photos - taken on the set of Picture Show


I feel like with each blog I write, I do my best to tell you how absolutely amazing my husband is, but words seem to always fall short. He is incredible. What he has endured is heartbreaking and totally unfair, but he has handled everything with so much grace, determination, and beauty. My husband - out of some bizarre unfathomable unfortunate turn of events - has stage iv lung cancer. But, he is not stage iv lung cancer. He is so much more. And our love story is so much more. He has smiled at me and offered me words of encouragement as he's been wheeled back for surgery. Weeks after facing whole brain radiation, he endured the Georgia heat to direct a movie - his lifelong passion. Then he rode half way across the country to teach filmmaking to a group of eager students. He has good days and then not so good days when he needs to take it easy, stay in bed and rest himself. He never complains. Never. Nurses go on and on about how he is the perfect patient. Even on the late shifts in the hospital, he would wake up to tell the nurses "thank you" for checking up on him - for doing their job! He is so very kind. If you don't know him well, you may think he is quiet and shy. He may not be saying much, but he is taking in every moment, every word you say. He remembers every little detail of our love story - specific dates, what I was wearing, what we had for dinner, etc. He is spiritual - on a level that I only aspire to. He is so very smart. He knows every movie ever made. He has read maybe thousands of books, if you count comic books and I do! He is just everything and everything to me.

What benefit do you get out of hearing me go on and on about how wonderful this man is? I don't entirely know. Chuckle. But what I hope to do, is to inspire you to see how wonderful your nearest and dearest are to you. Each day is a gift and cancer makes living raw, on the constant edge, and very, very scary. But it has also made me realize what is important and given me a new, wiser perspective on life. On being human. I hate to say it, but nowadays I laugh at the face of deadlines and every day stresses like taking out the garbage or who's gonna wash the dishes. Do not worry about such nonsense. Life is simple. Step One - Grab the person you love and give them a hug. Step Two - Never let go.

Nine years ago tonight (St. Patrick's Day), Jon and I were nestled into my dorm room - watching the movie Just Friends and eating leftover Chinese takeout from our favorite place around the corner. I had, stupidly, ventured out into the St. Patty's Day nightlife of Savannah. I don't remember much - and not because I was drunk. I do remember a man dressed up like Captain Morgan and I do remember seeing green beads fly through the air, oftentimes hitting me directly in the head. This was the last place on earth I belonged. Totally not my scene. I remember thinking the it was all very apocalyptic. People were acting like savages. Cars were overturned. I got lost from my group. Two men in a line for hot dogs and beer were scoping me out like I was some kind of prey. I called Jon. He ran from our dorms (on Oglethorpe St. for those who are familiar) all the way to River Street in record time! I remember him leaping over the little sailboat sandbox to my rescue. He saved me that night and he continues to save me from myself each and every day. That was also the first night he kissed me.

From our Anniversary Savannah trip 2015. It was so sunny, so the picture is dark. But this is Jon next to the sailboat! 


Not from St. Patty's Day, but just a few months earlier. Jon reminds me the night was January 30. We went on an adventure with our friends Doug and Andy (Natalie not pictured) to a Hilton Head beach at 1AM. We didn't get back until 6AM or later with classes the next morning. This was also the first time I'd ever really hung out with this gang. Needless to say, I had found "my people." 

Have a good week and please enjoy this beyond beautiful sunshine!

Love,
Robyn

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Good Night Heart (or Blessed Unrest)

It's after midnight and my world has come crashing down.

Listen to this:



Just a few hours ago, I had all my shit together. Makeup on. Hair and teeth brushed. Nice dress. A productive day. A fun business dinner with a group of incredible women. The home stretch of finals and school projects in sight. And now, not even a xanax and the sounds of Ross, Rachel, Phoebe, and Chandler can drown out the demons attacking my brain.

I put on a really good show. I think I might be the best actor I know. I give off a great impression of a fully functioning, sometimes even funny, human creature. Nothing could be further from the truth. At any given moment, I am one tear from a nervous breakdown and a straight jacket.

Jon continues to be well. I am so thankful. You don't know how thankful I am. If you haven't been this close to cancer, if you haven't been given an ultimatum with time and had it stare you right in the face, you don't know the marvelous beauty that can be found in the utter mundane. You don't know how wonderful an unremarkable night can feel. Scraping food off of a plate and into the trash. Closing the curtains. A pot of tea. Head on shoulder. It all feels so good. But, I'm worried for a dear friend who is fighting this fight. A change occurred and a new treatment plan may be in sight. I'm scared. Jon feels and looks so great. But how far away are we from change? A cough? A back pain? A headache?

Imagine holding onto a cliff, dangling a thousand feet in the air. In rare moments, I let myself let go. I stop researching the newest treatments. I stop reading medical journals for the most up to date information. I stop. Let go and get caught up in the breeze. And it feels so good when he feels good. When we focus on writing or filmmaking or creating. When we focus on cultivating our career. But, with all we've been through, it can also feel foreign. I am always one emergency away from a two week hospital stay. Always thinking of those in more pain. Knowing and feeling how easily all this can simply fall apart.

I always have one eye on lung cancer. I scroll through my Facebook page and see we've lost another amazing, incredible, beautiful person to this terrible disease. A Husband. Wife. Father. Mother. Son. Daughter. Friend. I'm crushed. When will it stop?

Please Make it Stop.

I've come to a realization: I don't think I'll ever figure out the meaning of life. It doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. But I don't think a human lifetime is nearly enough to fathom the complexities of this experience. The beauty of Jon's eyes. Perhaps this is why many believe in reincarnation. It takes several tries. I just don't know.

At some point, every day, I make a bargain with God: "I'll give you all my creative ability, hopes, and dreams if you take away all the cancer and give us a baby and normal future." So far, I haven't heard back. Some days I feel like creativity is a curse. I then try to remember it is not mine and tell myself this...



Jon gets really mad when I say I can't live without him. It's not a romantic popcorn cliche for us anymore. It could one day be reality. God. It hurts to type that. Do I need to apologize because it's the honest to God raw way down deep inside there truth? Or can I freely declare the weight of the guilt in not having cancer sometimes eats me alive? These are the times when I think I like life way too much. Maybe more than the normal person. I am not equipped to handle death and the fact that this life as we know it, even life without cancer, will one day come to an end. I am missing that cog in my machine. If you have a spare, I'd gladly take it. I will do my best to infuse any creative endeavors I pursue with this very human struggle and insight. But, I think it would be a lot easier to just stop time.

And yet, the daylight hours will bring another endless search of writing competitions and school projects that will, thankfully, take my mind off of these late night blunders, if only for a moment. No matter how little sleep I get tonight, tomorrow I will have to mix together corn syrup and red food coloring in an effort to create blood for a vampire movie. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of it...

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.

Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion. 

-Wait by Galway Kinnell

And this... because we can never let ourselves get too sad and I'd feel a lot better if Bill Hader were my gay twin...


I hope you're sleeping,
Robyn