father's day #15

Fifteen years ago and some change, we started a family, a home-based business of sorts, complete with its own budget, mission statement, goals and objectives. Going into it, we knew that this company would never turn a profit, not as it stands. But that didn't make it any less worthwhile, didn't discourage us from making investments that, for the most part, won't start to yield dividends for a while still. No matter. It's not like we're flipping real estate or day trading. We're in this for the long haul, betting on futures we are only now just beginning to see the outlines of — just there, beyond the horizon.

We kicked off Father's Day celebrations at Peet's Coffee with pastries and frappuccinos,

then took the long way out to Highway 1, past a riot of bougainvillea lining the road like bull fighter capes, tempting the eye away from double yellow lines that somehow manage to keep order among four lanes of potential chaos.

It's easy to forget, living in a hot and dry valley — where canyons and traffic and the day-t0-day concerns of running four lives, and all that this implies, stand between you and the edge of the continent — it's easy to forget that the ocean is there, constant and faithful and tireless. Also, vast and beautiful and somewhat terrifying. You take the ocean on its terms, never the other way around.


It was windy but warm, and like the pelicans in the above photo, we spent some time perched on Nana Rock, the place where we scattered some of his mom's ashes, almost a year ago.




Then, in keeping with company by-laws, took a handful of Silly Photos to add to our collection of 16 years:





The wind chased us off the beach and back over the canyons, resting only long enough to catch its breath as we snapped this photo of a cactus clinging to the sandy side of a hill just off the PCH,


and these on a turnout on Kanan Road, overlooking Malibu:


Back through a tunnel with K.T. Tunstall on the stereo, the girls holding their breath and a wish

as gravity and gratitude pulled us down into the valley, back towards the home that he makes possible.

Tomorrow we'll get back to the business of running this family, balancing, negotiating, mediating. With little to go on, we'll no doubt be flying by the seat of our pants. But then, that's how we've always done it, and this side of the Pacific Ocean, we're still afloat. When we turn the control of their lives over to them and turn them loose on the world, it's probable that they'll find a way to do it better. In fact, you hope that they do. Because that's your benchmark, that's how you'll know that this whole endeavor was a success.

Happy Father's Day 2009, JMS.


Love,
PJ&J

this and that

Summer. Finally.

Can I say that again? Because right now? Those two words? They are the most beautifulest words to be found in the English language. It's finally summer.

This school year, more than any other in memory, I feel like we crawled to the finish line. But now that we're here, I feel 10 pounds lighter.

In a few weeks, we'll start up with the dancing and the theatre and the driving (again with the driving), but for now, we're sleeping in and eying the pool (it's been cloudy and 70s since mid-May, but Julia wears her swimsuit every day without fail, just in case), going to Starbuck's, and running errands only on an as-needed basis.

Exciting? Not at all. Glamorous? Snort. NO.

But... perfect? Wonderful? Fantastic? Aw, yeah.

Here's what the perfectwonderfulfantastic day called Today looked like:

Jules and I dropped by Westlake High School to turn in the registration form for Orientation Week, which Jo will be attending in August.

(Aside: Is it right that I have a high schooler? That is not a rhetorical question.)

Anyway, while waiting for the office to open from lunch, I found this:



I love the man v. nature feel of this photo.

(Though am not entirely sure what the circle-y concrete thing at the entrance to school is for.)

(Maybe they will explain at orientation?)

(Highly unlikely, but I can't possibly be the only parent that has wondered.)

(Or maybe I am.)

(That's just how I roll.)

And snapped this:



Because this marks the first time in my life when a child of mine will be going to a school where they have to post such rules.

Sur. real.

Still waiting for the office to open:


Nothing much to say about this photo, except that I am crazy about this kid.

Afterwards, I took her for a haircut, and then dropped her back home before going to yoga. And then, at dinner, it was finally time to let them know where we'd be going this summer:


The first envelope read, "I think I'll like..." Leggs McGee opened that one, and found the airline tickets to San Francisco.

Julia's envelope finished the sentence with "...defying gravity!":

but it still took them a couple of seconds to realize that we'll be going up there to see Wicked at the Orpheum.

(You'd think the lyrics reference would have been an obvious giveaway.)

(Especially considering that they were both in a production of Wicked a few years back.)

(And that's ALL WE PLAYED in the car for about three months.)

(Not that I'm complaining — it's my favorite show that we've done.)

(But still.)

Oh, yeah, and stopping by the San Francisco Center for Beard Pappa cream puffs and Peet's coffee (there are no words), visiting the newly-renovated Exploratorium in Golden Gate Park, maybe a day trip north to the Wine Country, plus a stop over at Grandma and Grandpa's, and eating. Lots and lots of it.

And so, the countdown begins. Normally, I'd say that I can't wait, but I can. Because there are quite a few days of doing Absolutely Nothing to savor before it's time to go, and I plan on making the most of every last one of them.

grey matters

I was going to compose a profound, insightful post about my whereabouts of late and the soul-crushing battle with bronchitis I've been engaged in for what feels like forever (but which has only been about 10 days or so), while simultaneously exploring the mild depression I feel whenever I am sick, and wrapping the whole thing up with a tidy, optimistic, see-it-when-you-believe-it bow that promises clear skies and nasal passageways are just around the corner.

But I just don't have it in me.

(I was going to include "possible exhaustion" with the bronchitis, but declined for two reasons: 1) the doctor didn't actually diagnose it; and 2) I have been sleeping so much over the past week, again with the sleeping, that I CANNOT POSSIBLY BE TIRED.)

The thought of writing anything at all — enough of an uphill climb on the healthiest of days — makes my heart ache in that way it does when my will out paces my ability to create, and the act of researching depression and its possible connection to the flu (research = normally a good fall back plan when production lags) was, well... depressing.

And so I turn, like many bloggers before me in need of material, to The List.

I'm not a big list maker (though maybe lists would help stave off the not-possible exhaustion?), but truth be told, I'm not a big anything these days, so bare that in mind. Also? I haven't eaten much in the past week, which probably explains the cravings for meat (I normally stick to a mostly-vegetarian diet). I don't know why this seems necessary to point out here, except that the lead-in paragraph to the list felt a little, um, lean.

(Did I mention I've been bed ridden for over a week?)

So here, then, in no particular order, is a list of things that have been going through my head. I can only hope that the physical act of writing them down will serve to purge.

1. Snippets of Andrew Lloyd Weber's "Close Every Door" from "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," which, as I have learned in the past 24 hours, he began working on at age 18. To wit:

Close every door to me/
Hide all the world from me/
Bar all the windows/
And shut out the light/

If my life were important I/
Would ask will I live or die/
But I know the answers lie/
Far from this world/

Close every door to me/
Keep those I love from me/
Children of Israel/
Are never alone/
For I know I shall find/
My own peace of mind/
For I have been promised/
A land of my own.

(God. Drama much?)

2. When it's not an ALW dirge, it's the "Gaston" song from "Beauty and The Beast," which is pure Disney silliness and not worth quoting here. Both struggle for top-dog position as the soundtrack to long, delirious nights in which I lay, exhausted and sweating, praying for sleep.

3. I am no longer green, as Julia observed about two days ago.

4. I am pretty sure I would commit a felony for a McDonald's double cheeseburger right about now. (Note: I have had maybe eight of these in my entire life.)

5. I have consumed, in total, probably about 5,000 calories in the past 10 days, yet do not feel any lighter. Isn't the deal with getting really sick that it really sucks, but at the end of it, you've lost a few pounds, so it's kinda worth it? Am I missing something?

6. Things like #5, above? They add to that overall feeling of failure I get when I'm sick. Like, I can't even do sick right.

7. You can, apparently, do nothing and achieve everything, as the sages say. Example: I have received two very promising job offers in the past week. This, after almost a year of looking.

8. Well, maybe not everything. While searching for the perfect words for #7 (can you tell?), I glanced over at my beside table and noticed a fine coating of dust on the picture frames and lamp. Also? All of the bathrooms need serious cleaning, and laundry, as Jerry is fond of reminding the girls, does not, after all, do itself. Who knew?

9. I may be — may be — at the half-way point in "Music from a Scorched Earth."

10. Which is nothing to sneeze at.

11. Except I thought I'd have a first draft done by now.

12. Tomorrow is the culmination ceremony for Julia. Six years at the same school, she did, K through 5. A big deal in this family of nomads. She still needs shoes. I still need... well, everything. And yet, the thought of showing up and looking presentable is completely overwhelming.

13. Friday is Johannah's eighth grade graduation, and the rest of this week is packed with dress rehearsals and performances. I haven't the faintest idea as to how I am going to get there from here.

14. I am addicted to yoga. And yet, the thought of getting into a hot room and working out for 90 minutes makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I wonder if I will ever have the courage to start it again? You know, after all of this.

15. I miss my husband. He's still here, of course, but he's spent part of this week on the fold-out couch because he had a big conference to attend this week that he couldn't miss. When he is around, I wake him claiming we've just had a terrible earthquake which is causing massive bloodshed, and shouldn't he check on the girls?

Carpool duties call now, so the list will have to stand at 15. It'd be nice to say that there was more to come, but no. This is pretty much what passes for my grey matter content this week. If you want something more entertaining, Heather over at dooce is about to go into labor, and Pamela Ribon (whose very funny "Samantha Who?" just got canceled) is blogging more now that she's out of a job. ABC's loss, our gain, I say.

Back more when the meds kick in, the bacteria (virus?) kicks out, and I have successfully exorcised show tunes from my addled brain.

date stamp: 6 p.m. gmt, may 30, 2009

This date stamp was by special request, as today was the day that blogger and Army serviceman Art La Flamme celebrated his 40th birthday with his family at home in Hawai'i, where he is on leave from the war for some well-deserved R and R.

In other parts of the world, firsts of a similar kind were taking place, with some date stampers hailing the beginning of summer, as over in California (where summer never seems to take its leave) another marked the beginning of a young girl's career on pointe.

The day wasn't all about firsts and milestones, however, and that's what made this date stamp feel complete. In Manchester, England, one date stamper looked back at the centuries-old remains of a church that was nearly decimated in World War Two, as in Queens, another found not what she was looking for, but something equally as intriguing. And as the rest of us made our way through what seems to have been a sunny Saturday the world over, Singapore's date stamper woke just long enough to note the time in her dark corner of the world before saying good night.

Here, then, is a look at May 30, 2009, from the perspective of 6 p.m. GMT:

________________________________________________

London, England
GMT
(6 p.m., local time)


Well, it's getting to the end of another fine day - summer has (maybe) arrived. This is one of our twin cats, Pippin, crashed out in the shrubbery and savaging his favourite plant. As an old boy (fourteen on Monday), this is about as active as he gets. He and his brother just laze around all day and wander in at mealtimes as if they're long term residents of a hotel. And there had better be something decent on the menu or their disdain is palpable.

As the saying goes "Dogs have owners. Cats have staff."

— Kathryn Radmall

Screenwriter

________________________________________________

Toronto, Ontario
Canada
GMT -5
(11 a.m. local time)

'Shadetree mechanic' is a term that I have often wondered about. I mean, real mechanics have garages with lights, tools and important looking automotive bits, right?

So on a lovely Saturday afternoon I find myself at a good friend's house for a barbeque.

Next thing I know, we have his 76 MGB on stands (under a tree by the way) as we try to figure out why it is leaking gasoline.

We are serious mechanics... look hard and you will notice the beer in my hand.

All in all, a perfect summer day.

— Svet Rouskov
Screenwriter

________________________________________________

Manchester, England
GMT
(6 p.m., local time)

From the road it's just another church.

But then you notice the blue sky through the windows - looking in! The barbed wire that fences it off and the safety notice bolted to the locked gate.

It was hit during WW2. All that remains is the front. Complete. Intact. Perfect.

For years I've thought someone should film a zombie movie here. Y'know, the locked door that is really a portal to another time, the zombies trapped on the other side. They cross into our world one night when a bunch of partying kids break open the door.

Oh yeah, Stockport Zombie hunters. Okay, one day I'll get a good title!

— Peter Spencer
Screenwriter.

________________________________________________

New York, New York
United States
GMT - 5
(1 p.m. local time)

I don't know if it's a commentary on me, my life(style) or just life in general in these United States, but despite the fact that it's almost a year to the day since I moved into my digs in Queens, I really haven't had a lot of time to explore the neighborhood. My job is in Manhattan, most of my socializing and extracurricular activities are in Manhattan, and during my "down" time, I often visit my family in New Jersey.

So today, I decided to try and find the Sculpture Park, which is supposed to be lovely. I took a look on the internet, and set off, determined to find it, take some pictures, and still have time to meet up with a Manhattanite friend coming into Queens to eat at my favorite creperie. Of course, I don't find it. I didn't print out a map, and I have no sense of direction. But, in wandering around, I saw the Boys and Girls Club, which has this fantastic mural painted all along the wall. In the center are portraits of the five founders. All around them are the different activities you can partake of at the Club. I've included a close-up of a segment of the mural which I thought relevant to this blog: A girl on a computer, with an image of the world above her head. Macro and micro. Ah, the wonder and beauty of the internet.

— Mrinalini Kamath
Playwright, Filmmaker

_____________________________________________

Raleigh, North Carolina
United States
GMT - 5
(1 p.m. local time)

Bright, sunny – summer like. Mr. Squirrel cools himself in the shade of a neighbor’s tree. Wary of the world that surrounds him. Oblivious to the wonders above. His loss.

Happy Birthday, Art LaFlamme.

— Michael Scherer
Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Westlake Village, California
United States
GMT - 8
(10 a.m. local time)



First pair of pointe shoes: a dream finally realized.

She sewed them over the course of an hour with Broadway show tunes playing in the background, wearing the subsequent blisters like a badge of honor.

— Pamela Schott
Author, Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Royal Ville
Singapore
GMT + 8
(2 a.m. local time)

Hmmm...What's that smell? Oh, it's 2am! As my blurry brain processes this information, my eyes refuse to open so I let my ears do the work. I know that the outside air is extremely humid so I'm very thankful for our air-conditioner, the best invention ever created by man. Meanwhile, out on the not-too-distant road beyond our apartment block, traffic still resonates albeit not as loud and chaotic as during the daytime. Still, people are out there going places, perhaps home after a night out or on the prowl to the next drinking den or on the way to Johore, the nearest Malaysian state just across the causeway. As they get on with the rest of the night, I drift back into sleep looking forward to a full Sunday with my family. Ah, that's the life!

— Sonia Marzuki
Freelance Writer, PR Consultant

_____________________________________________

Tikrit, Iraq
GMT + 3
(9 p.m. local time)

Note: Art La Flamme is on leave from his duties in Tikrit, Iraq.

The photo is actually by my son. We snuck out of the house early, while the ladies slept, and headed up to Tantalus for some photos. That's Diamondhead in the background, and beyond it is the Pacific. I could not be further from Iraq, if I tried -- physically, emotionally, or mentally. If this is what turning 40 is suppose to feel like, I can say that it's a good thing.

— Art La Flamme
Blogger/Army Serviceman

_____________________________________________

Elsewhere in the world:

Australian Station
Antarctica
GMT + 4
(10 p.m. local time)

_____________________________________________

Abbey Road
London, England
United Kingdom
GMT (6 p.m. local time)

_____________________________________________

Venice
Grand Canal
Italy

GMT +1 (6 p.m. local time)

_____________________________________________

Paris, France
GMT + 1
(7 p.m. local time)

showtime

Posting has been light these past few weeks as I am co-directing our school's production of "Beauty and the Beast" this year, which has its first show today. Promise to return after the curtain falls with the latest date stamps, plus thoughts from production week, which will probably include entire paragraphs on how much I love the sound of children singing. 

(When they are in tune.) 

(Also? When they are not chewing gum.) 

(Which is a no-no on stage how many times do I have to say it and don't come crying to me when you asphyxiate during "Be Our Guest.")

(Which is a real show-stopper, complete with kick line.)

Back soon, certain as the sun.

date stamp: 5 p.m. gmt, may 20, 2009

Helen Keller once observed that, "The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker." There may be heroes among this collection of date stampers (sometimes just facing the day is an act of heroism in and of itself), but as the images captured here at 5 p.m. GMT illustrate, there is no question that we are honest workers.

This moment in time found one date stamper on a well-deserved break from the war in Iraq at home on Oahu, as two others in Shanghai and Singapore prepared for the next day's go 'round and tucked in for a toddler-induced sleep, respectively.

In the western world, work days were just beginning, or already underway, and in between the administrivia that naturally punctuates more creative endeavors, date stampers took a break to tend to gardens, knead dough, grab a bite to eat, or just take a contemplative breath.

We may, as Keller also noted, long to accomplish great and noble tasks. But as date stampers the world over demonstrated today, it seems that our chief duty is, in Keller's words, "to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble."

Say hello, then, to a great and noble world as it was observed on May 20, 2009:

________________________________________________

London, England
GMT
(5 p.m., local time)


Well, the sun is just touching the treetops at the bottom of the garden and I'm making my rounds of the fruit and vegetables. In previous years I've just allowed the fruit trees - apple, apricot, cherry and plum, to go their own way. But now that I seem to have taken on my late father's gardening mantle, I'm paying closer attention to everything: checking for fruit-set or signs of disease and wondering if there will be enough grapes to produce a few bottles of wine.

I'm amazed at the speed that the sweetcorn, peppers and runner beans are growing and try vainly to keep the tomato vines under control. They're heading for the greenhouse roof with all the vigour of the plants that Dad used to grow as a market gardener. I hope he's cheering on my efforts, surprised and pleased, as I am, by the emergence of these three potato plants - Vivaldi, Red Duke of York and Charlotte.

— Kathryn Radmall

Screenwriter

________________________________________________

Edinburgh, Scotland
United Kingdom
GMT
(5 p.m. local time)

I made some dough and left it to rise in the late afternoon sunshine. The resultant rolls it made were sweet and fluffy - the perfect accompaniment to our tofu burgers!

— Laura Anderson
Freelance Writer and Filmmaker

________________________________________________

Toronto, Ontario
Canada
GMT -5
(10 a.m. local time)

An unremarkable moment for this date stamp...
In a regular hum-drum meeting...
Looking out a window and wondering...
'Is there more to life than this?'
'Are we alone in the Universe?'
'What is our purpose in this life?'
'I wonder what's for dinner?' ... and back to work I go.
________________________________________________

Manchester, England
GMT
(5 p.m., local time)

As captured by Peter Spencer, Screenwriter.

________________________________________________

New York, New York
United States
GMT - 5
(12 p.m. local time)

Today turned out to be an unwanted day off (i.e., unpaid), so I started off the day by doing my laundry. As I passed the Ukrainian Catholic Church on the way to the laundromat, I noticed the three mosaics on the front. The picture doesn't do it justice. It's much gold-er looking, and alas, the tall building across the street blocks the sun from really hitting it and making it truly sparkle, but it's still a beautiful work of art that I'm sure church-goers find inspirational. In fact, when I passed by on my way back from the laundromat (still before 12 noon) I saw that an ice cream truck driver had parked his truck by the church and was standing in front, praying (the gates were locked). An interesting Queens scene.

— Mrinalini Kamath
Playwright, Filmmaker

_____________________________________________

Raleigh, North Carolina
United States
GMT - 5
(12 a.m. local time)

A day of meetings. One runs into the next. The morning... becomes a blur. Time flies when you’re having fun? Run out, grab a bite, run back, continue to work. Another Power Lunch at the bottom of the Food Chain.

— Michael Scherer
Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Louisville, Kentucky
United States
GMT - 5
(12 a.m. local time)

Fullness of day met vulnerably, its loveliness revealed as an orange, peeled and sectioned, through threshold and window lattice. Mouths of words
sweetening home.

— Jeanne Hammond
Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Westlake Village, California
United States
GMT - 8
(9 a.m. local time)


Poolside, both girls at school, the day just warming up. An hour carved out to work on the manuscript, then time for yoga. Hollywood cliché? Hardly. Except for the pedicure, which you've only recently started splurging on, you started your "hot yoga" practice back in the hot and steamy mid-west, some eight years ago. The writing started there as well, and quickly blossomed into a suitcase-full of dreams so large, you had to sit on it to get it to zip closed, way back in 2003 when you decided to air those dreams out in the bright SoCal sunshine. Six years on, and the dreams have not lost their luster. In fact, they're even juicier than when you first conceived of them, if not yet quite ripe. You'd like them to be (ripe, that is), but what do you know? For all the dues paid and time you put into it, you're still an amateur.

— Pamela Schott
Author, Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Beijing, China
GMT + 8
(1 a.m. local time)

Eat and learn.... When we were getting ready to move to Shanghai from Louisville, Kentucky, we were advised by other expats to bring as much of our favorite U.S.-snacks as possible as they might not be available in China. Or, if they were, they'd be expensive — at least twice the U.S. price. It's hard to pay nearly $5 U.S. dollars for a bag of goldfish crackers, when I was paying $1.69 in the States. It doesn't matter how much my three kids beg me to buy them. I started exploring the local supermarket for alternatives. Through constant buying and trying, I've found some great snacks not just from China, but other countries as well. The mini ice cream cones in the photo are a very popular brand in the U.K. The muesli from Germany is excellent with the locally made peach yogurt. The chocolate-coated digestive cracker from Korea is not too sweet and has great chocolate flavor. The red bean mochi from Taiwan, while not as good as freshly-made, are still tasty. The foods themselves are not so different from what we ate in the U.S., yet the unfamiliar characters or different words on the packaging spark conversations among my children about where the food could be from. Snack time then turns in to a mini geography lesson, and all of a sudden we're learning about the rest of the world — one snack at a time.

— Ginley Regencia

_______________________________________________

Royal Ville
Singapore
GMT + 8
(1 a.m. local time)

While people are wrapping up their days at GMT 5pm, our little corner of Singapore is asleep...well, almost! The whole world seems ensconced in darkness and the only things visible are the time on the clock radio and the lights on the baby monitor. It's nice basking in the silence of the night after a chaotic day of toddler activities, daily chores and American Idol. See you in the morning Singapore.

— Sonia Marzuki
Freelance Writer, PR Consultant

_____________________________________________

Tikrit, Iraq
GMT + 3
(8 p.m. local time)

Note: Art La Flamme is on leave from his duties in Tikrit, Iraq. This photo was taken from his home on base at Oahu, Hawai'i.

— Art La Flamme
Blogger/Army Serviceman

_____________________________________________

Elsewhere in the world:

Panama Canal, Panama
United States
GMT - 8
(9 a.m. local time)

Australian Station
Antarctica
GMT + 4
(9 p.m. local time)

Abbey Road
London, England
United Kingdom
GMT
(5 p.m. local time)

Venice Grand Canal, Italy

GMT +1
(5 p.m. local time)

Paris, France
GMT + 1
(6 p.m. local time)

date stamp: 4 p.m., april 30, 2009

The last day of April 2009, and date stampers from around the world filed mundane (not to say boring) reports that indicated that, media hand-wringing to the contrary, life was carrying on, the sky (as true blue in Scotland as any ever witnessed) was not falling, and people from all over the world were placing one foot in front of the other and getting on with the day. Much like one American soldier in the middle of a troubled, ancient desert had done on his daily run.

There was work to be done, a child to be delivered to school, pastures to be grazed. And so it was, and she was, and they were. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing glamorous or Earth shattering. And yet. It is in the simplicity of each of these reports that the pulse of the world is detected, a quiet, constant, steady rhythm, proof if ever it was needed (which is more and more these days, it would seem) that all is well.


London, England
GMT
(4 p.m., local time)

Well, as befits the run up to a Bank Holiday, the weather is gearing down for the occasion - pretty overcast and a bit chilly, so I'm indoors tidying up my storyboard files. Fred, my very able artist's model was pressed into service for the fight scenes and is now offering his opinion on the resulting sketches.

— Kathryn Radmall

Screenwriter

________________________________________________

Edinburgh, Scotland
United Kingdom
GMT
(4 p.m. local time)

I spent the day writing and doing admin tasks, taking breaks to stare out of the window and up at the clouds.

— Laura Anderson
Freelance Writer and Filmmaker

________________________________________________

Manchester, England
GMT
(4 p.m., local time)

As captured by Peter Spencer, Screenwriter.

________________________________________________

New York, New York
United States
GMT - 5
(11 a.m. local time)

Well, 11:00 is when the phones are turned on at my job, so here's the phone. To the right you'll see the wall of the cubicle - not quite sure why there's a bottle of white-out behind the phone (I don't think I've used white-out since college). This is the moment before the onslaught - the first two hours are always the busiest. Lucky for me that with the economy being the way it is, people are still interested in going to the theatre at all.

— Mrinalini Kamath
Playwright, Filmmaker

_____________________________________________

Raleigh, North Carolina
United States
GMT - 5
(11 a.m. local time)

Another day — another 50¢ (and that’s before taxes).

— Michael Scherer
Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Louisville, Kentucky
United States
GMT - 5
(11 a.m. local time)

Today is two days before the 135th Kentucky Derby. A former Derby horse, Perfect Drift, grazes by a parking lot at Churchill Downs. If memory serves, he came in third in the 2002 race. I thought, how wonderful to have already completed your best run!

— Jeanne Hammond
Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Westlake Village, California
United States
GMT - 8
(8 a.m. local time)

This image perfectly captures the last four years. Sunlight pouring out of the east, lighting the way to school (straight ahead for five blocks), or the ocean (turn right at the stop light).

Every day without fail, we've walked this way, back pack and brown bag lunch in hand, Lucy on leash. You feel privileged to be so close to school that you can avoid carpool lines and frantic SUVs altogether, glad of the time you have with her to talk about the dreams she had the night before, and the ones she has for the rest of her life.

With the all the uncertainty you're currently facing, you feel even more profoundly these moments together as you push forward into a new day, pushing away thoughts of scarcity, of ruin and disappointment. This is all there is. This moment, right now. Everything else is illusion. And for that you are so grateful.

— Pamela Schott
Author, Screenwriter

_____________________________________________

Tikrit, Iraq
GMT + 3
(7 p.m. local time)

5 days, 4 runs, 30 miles. My soles are like alligator skin. I managed to get a blister on the arch of my foot. And I have a blister on a blister, on a blister that has now popped.

But these aren't complaints; this is my reality. I'm a runner, and these things won't stop me.

— Art La Flamme
Blogger/Army Serviceman

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Elsewhere in the world:

Panama Canal, Panama
United States
GMT - 8
(8 a.m. local time)

Australian Station
Antarctica
GMT + 4
(8 p.m. local time)

Abbey Road
London, England
United Kingdom
GMT
(4 p.m. local time)

Paris, France
GMT + 1
(5 p.m. local time)