We're approaching the 5th year anniversary of the foundation pour for the house we designed and are building ourselves. Sidestepping the inquiries of "Did you think it would take this long?" and "Would you have done it if you knew then what you know now?" Gary and I forge ahead to complete our 85% built, aptly named home, "Casa Milagro".
The Post Office says they'll deliver through snow, sleet and rain. We've amped up that promise to add hurricanes, floods, record-breaking cold snap, scorching summer temperatures, a Houston snowstorm, job changes, a pandemic and 9 months of unemployment (Thanks, Covid!)
Five years ago, I bought a used video camera and started documenting this venture during the design phase, the demolition of the existing 1928 house that I'd been living in for almost twenty years and everything done since then.
I couldn't wait to start shooting the old house going down, interviews with workers, the first time we finished framing a room and building the 60' deck with Gary. Gary and I (sometimes with a little help from our friends) framed the first floor ourselves, working every weekend for almost a year. It was hard. It was hot. It was humid. It was cold. It was rainy. It was tiring. It was challenging.
AND IT WAS FUN!
It's not as fun now.
I've lost my mojo.
And I need to get it back.
A month ago, my camera broke. I've taped it back together. I haven't bought a new one. I don't want to spend the money. But more dreadful, my excitement at continuing the documentary has waned.
I looked at building the house with Gary akin to building my business and videos for my clients. Both I design, produce, direct, execute and deliver. Did I know anything about building a house before we started? No. Did I know anything about oil tanker barges before the shoot and the edit? No.
And with that somewhat vague and flawed logic I asked myself over 4 years ago, "So how hard could it possibly be?"
The comparison as builder of our modern house to my career in the film/video industry brought to mind the hundreds and hundreds of productions I've done with clients over the past 20 years.
My current diminished passion reminded me of a protracted edit in the 90's when I owned my first production and post production company.
We were editing TV spots for The Houston Chronicle and the edit suite was full of people: the production team (editor, assistant editor, producer and director); the client (marketing and public relations heads); the advertising agency entourage (account executive, copywriter, art director, creative director, marketing director, graphic designer and in this case, the green intern).
As producer I was the intermediary, shuttling between the editor (my business partner/then husband) and the other dozen people in the room - all with an opinion. We turned out a great :30 spot, but someone took issue with it. And so over the course of the next 5 days (they were only scheduled to spend 2 days in the edit suite), we re-edited the spot in a dozen different ways.
The agency held the power - holding the editor and the edit suite hostage - as they discussed, debated, dissected, deliberated and disparaged each different cut shown to them.
I grew more frustrated and the client more demanding as the days went by. Boxed lunches turned into major sushi-fests, office coffee became espresso orders and before the last edit was made, someone on my staff made a daily client, "I'd love something sweet" run. At 5 PM, the Bombay Sapphire martinis started flowing. After all the oldsters left, there were other relaxants brought out for those of us who stayed behind.
Edging towards a second week with them we pretended to edit another version, but instead showed them the original :30 spot done on the very first day. They loved this "new look" and congratulated themselves profusely for all the hard work they'd done to get there.
Awed by the egos filling the space and thrilled to be in their presence, the intern remained quiet throughout the five days. Her single utterance before it all ended was, "I'm starting not to like his hair."
Even she could no longer maintain any excitement for the project at this point.
I am where she was then.
However, unlike the time these clients spent in the making of the TV spot, building this house isn't being done with a lot of indulgence. No entourage. No expensive meals. No espresso runs. And no flowing booze (though there may be a few relaxants we've availed ourselves to). Nothing but hard work and lots and lots and lots of problem solving is what's getting this production done. Weekends have turned into months which have now turned into years as we make our way through continual challenges and roadblocks (especially financial) in the building of this modern home ourselves.
We are closer than we've ever been (insulation and sheet rocking done with countertop installation just around the corner) but after four years, I've lost the excitment of watching every wall go up, each milestone being reached and starting something new.
In the infamous words of the intern, "I'm starting not to like his hair."
I NEED TO GET MY MOJO BACK.
Here are some pointers.
The article is by Kathryn SandfordCreate some positive energy with regular physical activity.
Meld my conscious and subconscious minds. Think, decide, act upon things that support me getting my mojo back.
Don't be a hater. Embrace those who embrace their mojo.
Clarify and focus on what's really important in my life. Let the other stuff fall away.
Choose joy and find it in the simplest of things.
I've thought of that intern over the years and wondered where she ended up. At different points in our lives we both started not to like his hair. As I make my way back to finding my mojo, I hope she still has hers.(Photographs from the collection of the author, unless otherwise noted).3 images from Adobe Stockfootage.