Hockey

Rainy weather doesnt keep us from a Manchester Monarchs game.

Thanksgiving

Some reading and some music. All around pretty good Thanksgiving.

A New Love

I've fallen in love again...

And there's a lot of people involved in this.

There's that grumpy old man in the corner, bison head mounted behind him, telling me that dull questions garner dull answers.

There's that difficult to understand chap at the table telling me if I didn't get his book on the first, second, or third times then read it a fourth...

They're better known as Mr. Hemingway and Mr. Faulkner. And they, along with other literary heros of mine stretching from William Carlos Williams to Kurt Vonnegut, are all in my sweet new set of books, "The Paris Review Interviews (Boxed Set) I-IV."

Since I got them, I can't put them down. It is an aspiring writer's (or any lover of literature's) dream come true. It is amazing to get into the heads of these amazing writers. I recommend it to all.

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Getting drinks at Zachs restaurant. Take that Kevin Bacon!

Tomorrows and Yesterdays

Are tomorrows getting shorter?

How about yesterdays?

The older I get, the faster time moves. It courses along at a quicker, and more ragged pace. It eats away at its own banks and before you know it, you are a lake and not a river. Childhood for me could be written like this:

Wake up. Go. Eat. Play. I’m gonna be a writer. TV. School. Don’t push me. A pilot. Best friends? Eat. Four-square. An actor. Flower and bee. Don’t sting me. Pulled wings. A doctor. Go. Go. Eat. TV. Wrestle. I’ll make movies. Cry. He called me… He pushed me… Sleep. Be a travel photographer. Dream. Wake up. Go.

It wasn’t so much a question of where I was headed. It was just a question of the pace I’d take to get there. I never wondered about the future. I was blessed to know my parents loved me, my teachers believed in me and that clouds in the sky I thought looked like an elephants, no palm trees, were the limit.

But.

Now.

Things have changed.

I am happy. I am having adventures. But I blink and a month is gone. I cough and a day has passed. The long stretched taffy of childhood days has grown hard and concentrated. Don’t look now. It’s passed. Adulthood could be written like this:

Coffee in the morning because without coffee this day will be terrible. Catch the train, but I can’t run because if I run I will spill coffee on my hand and that will burn and it will stain. Turn on the computer and have a second, just one, to sit and think. OK, grade papers, plan events, make copies. These reports need to be put in by ten. These calls need to be made by eleven. Isn’t it my friend’s birthday tomorrow? I once spent an entire day watching all the Naked Gun's with him. What a waste. If I can get through this year, then I might be up for promotion in the next. I read a thing in the paper that says runners are smarter, live longer and I should really…

Here’s how I viewed time growing up at different ages:

1-10: What’s time? I got some ant collecting to do.

10-16: I can’t wait for next year because then I’ll be able to stay up past 10pm, go to PG 13 movies, go on dates, drive…

17-21: Time, so much time. Time to have bonfires, learn guitar, get drunk, sleep late, read books, watch movies, play video games, work out…

22-Now: I used to have so much time. What’d I do with it all? I should have done this… And this… and this… but it’s OK, cause I can do this… and this… and this… and make up for it all.

I guess time has gone from a peaceful, coexisting presence, like those birds that hop on the backs of rhinos and clean them of parasites, to being something I couldn’t wait to spend, and finally, to being something I am suddenly conscious of. Something to preserve. Ration. Invest.

The problem is, the more I blueprint tomorrow, the smaller it becomes. The more I map out yesterdays, the more impersonal they seem.

Who’s to say?

If only…

Making Wondur Pt. 2

My friend Chris is putting my movie making efforts to shame!

New York Chapter Twelve

Untitled from Tim Lane on Vimeo.

Read Tree of Smoke

An intense book that was so chalk-full of good writing, and weighing in at a hefty 700 pages, I think it contains enough material for four independent, amazing books. But it is one. One big, huge, mama of a book.

The Making of Wunder

Chris and I are making a movie. It is called Franklin Wunder. Chris is making an awesome web series about it. Check it out HERE!

A Bird In a Tree

So when I went to the park today, I noticed there were a ton of people with fingers and cameras pointed at the sky. I couldn't see what they were staring at until I saw a huge, white hawk alight in one of the trees. This brought up a number of thoughts.

1. This was a beautiful thing, but...

2. Jeez people were going crazy about this bird, which made me think...

3. People in New York might be seriously lacking on wildlife, but they aren't short on celebrities because...

4. The other day while I was sitting in the park, Alec Baldwin rode up on his bike and sat next to me and while some people noticed, it wasn't that many at all. Then, to elaborate on this point I went to...

5. Urban Outfitters where I saw Shia LeBouf shopping with his girlfriend and everyone was just treating him normally kind of like how...

6. In Oregon we think wildlife is no big thang but...

7. If a celebrity rolled through, cameras and fingers would be unholstered.

For Richard

At work, we had a "Secret Pumpkin" gift exchange. For my "Secret Pumpkin," I made him a video.

What Makes Richard Great from Tim Lane on Vimeo.

New York Chapter Eleven

New York Chapter Eleven from Tim Lane on Vimeo.