A Filming Story: A Poem

'Twas the night before filming and all through the producer's brain,

All plans were set in motion for a story so insane

The shot lists were printed in the binder with care,

In hopes an award winning cinematic adventure would soon be there.

The extras were wrangled all snug in their camp,

While visions of stardom shined bright as a lamp.

And the director in her jeans, DP in his polo,

Had just begun department meeting for all to follow

When out on the set, there arose such a chatter,

They ran from their meeting to see what's the matter

Away to the camera DP flew like a bird

Tore open the doors and didn't say a word

The moon on the breast of a perfect lit night

Gave a luste of midday to the angle in sight

When what to my wondering eyes did appear

But a sound man with a deadcat ready to hear

With a little old scripty so eager and loud

Screaming "continuity!" and writing so proud

More rapid than cheetahs the grips on location

I knew in a moment we were in formation

"Now DP, now AD, now Line Producer, now AC,

On Gaffer, on Grip, on PA, and Stacy!

From your one then to two to the end of the scene!

Now rehearse and execute to film for the screen!"

As the camera rolls and the 2nd AC slates,

The actor gives a performance and hopes the production waits.

So up to Cannes, the Oscars they hope,

With a film full of beauty even worthy of the Pope.

And then in a twinkling I heard martinis up!

The excitement, the energy, the anticipation of a filled cup

As I prepare the final slate and was clapping with ease,

The magnet broke, I call second sticks, then someone sneezed.

Down the optimism and the director was pissed

She was keeping the peace, she was thinking what was missed

A bundle of paperwork the line producer reminded was in sight

The director gets focus, calls back to one, and all was right.

Her eyes, how they spoke to her AD and then

All was right with martini and the DP began

His lens with the focus, his footage to video village sights

And the ISO on the image had all the rights

The crafty table empty, the background actors full

And the crew grew restless, searching for Red Bull

DIT protective of the cart with the power

Telling people to stop plugging their phones during lunch hour

Director was smart and confident with a twinkle in her eye,

And the executive producer knew she could take the story and fly

A romance between costars, and a nomination to enlight,

The production poured champagne and celebrated the night.

Whether we win or not, I'll always remember 

The family, the spats, and our time on set together 

Relation Shipwreck | Episode 1 | Clever Girl

This is the pilot episode to Bouncy Boxer Media's new web series "Relation Shipwreck." This short is the first writing project of lead actress, Chelsea Wolf. We put in a lot of hard work to make this episode a reality and we have three more coming. So what do you think?

Excitement and Sorrows in the "Big Easy"

I'm finishing out my stop in New Orleans for my work trip and I've seen some amazing things. I've had some amazing food, drinks, and life experiences here.


Last night, I went to Bourbon Street to partake in the usual social gatherings. The street was alive, even for a Monday evening during school time. I couldn't believe how many people were out and about, but then I remembered this is a historic time for New Orleans. This past Saturday marked the 10th anniversary of Hurrican Katrina rocking this metropolitan area. There were ceremonies, television broadcasts, and celebrations of how far everyone has come. At each neon light, there would be a certain flaire only that part of New Orleans could give. Whether it was oysters, specialty drinks, or the famous gumbo, each place had a new experience to share. As I'm walking down the street, I am in awe of the lifestyle. So we all danced, had some drinks, and then headed back to the hotel to sleep it all off. I've been getting more involved in Snapchat so you can see my night if you follow themigrainechef there.


Today, I went for a stroll in the other tourist locations. Jazz Park had vibrant music filling the air. I loved the energy that was being given with each musician. Street performers working hard for their tips at each corner. Endless shops, restaurants, and tourist tours in every place you'd look. Of course I got some New Orleans French Quarter shot glasses to add to my collection from my travels (and two for my besties). Everything is just a walk away!


As I'm heading back to my hotel, I stop at a popular restaurant to grab a quick bite. At that location, I witnessed something that really made me think. A gentleman who appeared to be homeless comes inside. He has a brown bag in his pocket, which is more than likely alcohol. Most establishments will not allow outside beverages inside, especially if they do not sell alcohol. I couldn't hear what started the fighting, but he was told to leave. He kept shouting, "you're wrong!" to the manager who was trying to protect her business and patrons. Some patrons stepped in before the man could get physical with her, which was very fortunate. He was shouting, she was shouting, and my heart sank. He kept yelling phrases that didn't make sense and he kept trying to enter the restaurant. Another homeless man was sitting inside with the same situation. Although he never shouted, in fact, he never moved. He was lethargic and motionless, even when she asked him to leave.


Now this situation was scary to see as a bystander, but it also got me right in the feels. Those two men have some kind of dark, personal demons going on. Whatever the situation, they have scars you cannot see on the surface. It's not just that location, either. Everywhere you turn, there's a human being who has a similar situation happening to them. Whether it's alcohol, drugs, or loss of all they hold dear, these people are hurting. Now I haven't done much research on homelessness, but today is a good day to start. Just thinking about how many broken pieces in them need mending makes me tear up.


So I ask you all: what can we do to help? What resources are available to these guys to make sure their quality of life is at the same level of someone more fortunate? Why is this happening? How did this occur and who can stop it?


So many questions I want to try to answer. Until next time...

This Generation - Sex Sells

So I'm watching MTV VMAs last night and I was so excited. I haven't watched anything from MTV lately because it's mostly over dramatized reality shows. The new "Scream" series has got me thinking maybe they are changing their ways...I was wrong.

Anyway, so the VMAs began with a killer Nicki Minaj performance. She's so talented with her voice and she can dance while singing. She had an amazing concept going back with her style of dance. Then pops Taylor Swift. I'm unfamiliar with their "fight" so I was just enjoying two performers on stage. Blew me away! Then cut to Mackelmore: wow! He has so much energy and really brings excitement to any stage. Just wow!

Then comes Miley. I knew what to expect but I wasn't as prepared. I completely respect her for trying to discover herself like we all do as young adults. She went over the top a couple times with the Mary Jane references, but that's just my opnion. 

So throughout the night I am blown away by performances: Tori Kelly (true artistry and talent), The Weeknd (that voice!), and Demi Lovado. I had one major issue with Demi's performance: why was she half naked??? She's an amazing vocalist and she could have performed that number in a more "covered" outfit without the vagina squats (dancing). It kept me thinking about how different the pop performers are now. It's more about sexualizing the female performers and it upsets me. This has always been a thing in the music industry but I believe it's getting out of control. 

Want to be a top female pop star? Better be prepared to wear next to nothing. It's not about the talent anymore like Tori Kelly. It's about the publicity of Nicki's "beefs" and who's got the best looking body while performing. That's sad to me. I care more about the sound and quality of the music rather than who's the "hottest in the industry." 

So why is this happening? Thoughts?

"Burning House" cover (Cam) by Stefanie Davis

So this is my first attempt at a cover song. I'm hearing it over and over and I know I'm a bit flat, but I do want opinions. I want to do more cover songs and eventually do more singing videos. Music has always been an outlet to my migraines and everyday life, so quality is everything to me.

Tell Me I'm Okay

Tell Me I'm Okay

 

 

 

List my ailments, but tell me I'm okay

List the probabilities, but tell me I'm okay

Give me facts, but tell me I'm okay

Explain the risks, but tell me I'm okay

Scare the life out of me, but tell me I'm okay

Lie to me. Tell me I'm okay.

Pray for me. Tell me I'm okay.

Smile. Tell me I'm okay.

Hug me. Tell me I'm okay.

 

 

Do whatever you feel you need to, but tell me I'm okay.

Migraine While Traveling

So yesterday I was out of state working and I had the time of my life. My job was called "The Energizer" which meant I got to dance around and get everyone pumped. Believe me, I'm very good at my job. Toward the end of the night I felt it: the spidey sense. I knew a bad migraine was coming. I even warned the masses of the upcoming storm.

So I drove to my very dirty motel. On the way, I experienced the most excruciating pain that I had such a difficult time driving. People kept honking, flashing their brights, and riding my bumper. It was raining as well, by the way. Perfect weather for angry drivers to put me more into harms way.

Well I finally got to the motel room and I had hardly any energy left. I was grasping the last spoon so tight it hurt more. I checked in and walked into my room. The door barely locked but I had no energy left to go to the front desk and ask for a more secure room (dumb). The bed sheets had cigarette burns and spots of blood (seriously run for the hills). So what did I do? I curled up in the fetal position on top of the bed and didn't move. I had zero energy for crying, screaming, or anything but lying still. I rubbed my temples, silently prayed, and debated calling 911. After two hours, I finally got the pain level lowered so I could sleep. 

So the moral to the story is...be safe. Migraine hurts but don't be stupid. I should have went to the hospital and properly got treatment. Be careful out there, spoonies!