History & Music

Somehow over the last couple of years i have landed in the tribute video business. Not really sure how it started except it seems to satisfy the way my head works. If i think back, the first couple of videos i made were over a decade ago. old school video to video transfer. It's so much easier now. It might have been the connection to collages and other print work i have done for memorials for longer than that.

There is a deeper back story to this one though. I haven't posted in four years. A lot has changed, some things have stayed the same, in the best and worst of ways. In short it goes...divorce | intense love affair | move to my hometown | caregiver to  an elderly mother | hideous break up | elderly mother going through cancer treatment | the kids are alright & i am holding steady at the moment in this tour of duty.

It is hard to come home. i'm drowning in history, family stories, the pressure of being a single mom, caregiver & find time to make a living. The love/hate relationship i have with this funky little town in all it's nostalgia mixed with absolute arrested development and my family that is incredibly complex and damaged.

This is how my head works, because much of my family history is before i ever existed. The youngest only child, kept out of the fray for the most part and reliant on all the stories to piece it all together. Thankfully i come from a family of storytellers. they don't really know that, but they are. these stories have come out in outrageous laughter that is both hilarious and inappropriate, or in venomous anger but rarely anything in between. Two of my sisters are quite a bit older, and had a completely different life than i did. My mom was so young and so ill prepared for life, so was her husband, but they married with all the best intentions and i believe they absolutely love their daughters. Despite the heartbreaking violence & struggles in that era, my sisters are both wildly successful, highly creative and my other set of moms. My dad came into the picture immediately after they split. I didn't even know they were half sisters until i was 12. In my little kid head i thought when you grow up, you can call your Dad by first name. Couldn't wait to be able to call my dad, Dave. It is very much a dreamlike movie in my head. Small town lore, and the stories...oh, the stories.

My mom has just suffered a double edged loss. Her best-friend of 45 years passed away, and then her sister. Aunt Elsie was the last of her two siblings. Uncle Albert died of a heart attack years ago. She was so illusive and damn cool. i loved her. she had a certain quiet strength that i admired. Never questioned if she loved me. Married my dad's brother, Jimmy and they had Scott, my double cousin. Has the dubious honor of divorcing and marrying my other Uncle, Tom. what can i say? The Preciado/DeLano connection runs deep and they were beautiful people in a very small town. Scott came to live with us when i was very small. I thought he was my brother for a long time. He is my brother, actually.

No one asked for a tribute video. There were very few photos of my ever illusive aunt. I had just come across old 8MM i had digitized years ago. the quality isn't very good but it works. It's mostly footage of my mother, my sisters with (little) Scott, my grandmother, my uncle Albert and only two tiny clips of my Aunt (watch for her at the end). oh how much i absolutely love their style....especially so because i know most of the stories. Heard a beautiful piece of music when i was cleaning house, and the images came flooding in. i did this one for me. honestly, i don't think i will be able to share it with my family, in fear of any repercussions or misunderstanding. There is a part of me that did this for my mom. I have no idea what it feels like to feel that everyone close is slipping away to the point of being the last one standing. My only point of reference is how i feel in watching and helping my mom through it.

First Words

The boys are in Kindergarten. David is really anxious to write. He knows all the letters, how to form them and now he's sounding them out to do the job. His first three words? the first three he's written without any help at all?

poop
booger
google

There you have it people. I wonder what that third word is going to mean 10 or 20 or 100 years from now?

David Says

last two nights, we've been out driving. daylight savings is sort of fun for nighttime experiences because through the summer, they go to sleep right as the sun sets. it's been a crescent moon. David asked why and i went on to explain the phases of the moon. kid version. told them to watch the moon and see how it becomes slowly bigger and the full and the smaller and then disappears...yadda yadda. they were quiet. listening. then i stopped talking because i was sure they had checked out from the backseat and were no longer interested.

then david says, "i know why it does that. the darkness just takes a bite out of the moon."

i liked his explanation much better than mine.

Like i have time for this....

Tonight i'm doing wyatt's homework. he came home with a backpack with a stuffed lion named simba, simba's blankie and a journal detailing simbas adventures with the other little children in his class.

oh, and i'm so annoyed. why do they spring this crap on us parents??? why? why? i had no idea i was going to have to detail simba's day with us. so i'm going to be a complete smart ass and tell how simba got into the trash, jumped on the furniture, swung from the light fixture, antagonized the robots and ran with scissors. little fucker better not end up at our house again....

to be made to feel...

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." — Maya Angelou

ashley just posted this quote and it so struck me that i have to repost...i have so much going on that i scarcely have the capacity to organize it into a post. but since i've long abandoned this blog...really, i found it rocking and banging in the corner again...i will find a way to expand on this theme in the next day or so.

one man's junk is another man's toys.....

I walk into the boys room and see that Wyatt has just about emptied the toy box onto his bed. i point down to the pile.

"hey, what's all this junk!"

Wyatt quick as a flash yanks down his pants, grabs his nuts and says, "No mommy, this my junk. Those are my toys!"

and now ya know.

thanks....

For the thank you cards.....