Beware a false spring!
Why the most dangerous moment on any project is that first warm day.
Garden report:
Definitely still winter.
I took these pictures yesterday, during the torturously brief window when the snow from the last storm had finally melted, before this latest blizzard — once again —encased the garden in several feet of snow.
I can’t be the only person that felt a brief, delusional hope that winter was somehow already over?
There is not much to see yet in the garden, but there is much to do.
I am slowly pulling back a blanket of mulch. Moving containers out of their deep-winter protected zones and back into display mode. Tidying up, making plans, arranging things. Setting up everything possible for the longest, the healthiest and the most spectacular bloom season possible.
And let’s not lie: we do all this not so glamorous work for the bloom season.
Still winter on all my other projects, too, by which I mean to say I am very busy, a lot is going on, and absolutely none of it is visible yet.
We are still tidying up Wild Inside — we’ve been fortunate enough to take our time with the music editing, sound design and mix. (It’s incredible how much better the movie has gotten throughout this period!) I am incredibly excited about the decisions and plans we are making for its release.
I’ve made enough films to know this last stretch of work — long after “picture lock” — is the part where the real movie finally reveals itself. And still — every single time — starting from the earliest rough cuts, I feel like a first-time filmmaker pacing the sidelines, wondering can’t we just show it already??
I’m so impatient. I’m like, famously impatient. My impatience is a problem, because sometimes I push work out before it’s ready, or before I’m ready, or before the world is ready. I respond extremely well to deadlines and to-do lists, the calendar and the seductive sense of things happening when I say they will. How many of us build finishing schedules around “Sundance deadline”? All of which is fine — deadlines make the world go ‘round!! — but it is also the case that things need to happen at the right time.
And so, as much as I place a high value on action, I grudgingly concede: there is sometimes virtue in waiting. And even more than that: the shape of these seasons is changing all the time. I was just reading today that crocus are blooming a full month earlier in the UK because of climate disruptions.
The betrayal of a false spring is tough to take for me, emotionally. But for a plant, believing “it’s time!” when it’s not can be deadly. Plants have developed elaborate defense mechanisms to avoid doing things like leafing out during a false spring. I hope the crocus will be able to adapt to the changing climate.
Plants don’t measure time the way we do. They measure things like soil temperature, hours per day of sunlight, the availability of water. They really don’t measure time at all. They really measure conditions.
I’m trying — not always successfully — to be more like a plant, and less like a calendar-obsessed teacher’s pet with her hand constantly shooting up.
If you are impatient like me, waiting until the conditions are right to share your work can feel like torture. But it’s better than sacrificing long-term strength for short-term satisfaction.
We all yearn for visibility, but I think maybe the most dangerous moment in a project is the first warm day. The first good feedback, the first invitation, the first real momentum… these things can make you feel like you’re ready. But that first warm day is not spring… not yet.
On the nature of “forcing” things
I have mentioned before my newfound obsession with planting bulbs. In the end, I planted 1,060 bulbs in my roof garden, and now I’m waiting for spring with every ounce of my self to see how they come up.
But — because I am famously impatient, and famously obsessed with bulbs now I guess??? — I also experimented with another technique calling “forcing.” The trick to forcing bulbs is that you can sort of make them believe, “it’s spring!” by first chilling them for 12+ weeks, then planting them indoors at room temperature. If you’re seeing pots of daffodils at the grocery store right now, those have been forced.
I found a wonderful gardener named Heather on Etsy who specializes in pre-chilling bulbs, and the first batch arrived on January 25. I realized upon receiving the package that Heather lives in Park City, Utah. I cherished the cute coincidence of so many of my friends and colleagues gathering to celebrate the festival’s final year in that town, while I planted tulips that were cultivated there. It made me feel connected to my community.
It’s been quite fun and satisfying to have a little preview of spring on my windowsill all winter. And it was only a few short weeks between planting the bulbs to gorgeous blooms. Hardly any patience needed at all!
But of course, there’s a catch. These plants are not nearly as strong, as big or as long-lasting as they would be had they not been forced. Even my biggest successes are a bit floppy and short. A few of them didn’t even bloom.
Metaphors be with you.
So yeah. It’s still winter around these parts.
In some ways, it’s like, more winter than ever.
But I’m telling you: underneath all that snow, the wise little crocus is still there, waiting for the right conditions.
And maybe I’m learning a little patience.1
Comings, Goings & News
I really enjoyed getting to have this conversation with Richard Rushfield at The Ankler.
Anyone going to True/False or SXSW? I’ll be at both, for brief windows.
Speaking of SXSW, a film I Executive Produced is premiering there. It’s called Manhood, it’s about penis enlargement and it’s directed by Daniel Lombroso. If you haven’t seen Daniel’s first feature doc, White Noise… please, you must. It’s criminally underrated, IMO!
An unrelated Austin TX film event: NUTS! is playing at Hyperreal Film Club on March 9. I want more cool microcinema bookings in my life, please!!!
I recently spent a few days in Chicago doing some really fun guest lectures, Q&As and studio visits at Northwestern, UIC and Depaul. It gave me life to connect with those students as well as old friends and new! More fun university visits in my life, please!!!
I will be in Salt Lake City for this screening of Confessions at the Utah Film Center on March 11.
lol, never







this is a very wise post. thanks for the fruitful (sorry) analogy