Cameron Crowe is BACK!

The "We Bought A Zoo" trailer has all the Croweisms we crave -- the leaving of the workplace heroically, the overt hand gestures, the big heart, Tom Petty, a big romance. After 'Elizabethtown' a lot of people thought his bubble had burst -- but here he is again.. and I'm excited!





Back when Cameron Crowe was a teenager writing reviews for magazines, I don't imagine he knew that he'd be making movies someday. Cameron is the perfect director for 'Pearl Jam Twenty', he lives for music. He understands it better than anyone who isn't a musician -- and he makes us realise how much we love it too. I'm a fan of Pearl Jam; not a big fan, but a fan -- yet this trailer makes me feel like they're the greatest band ever. That's Cameron Crowe for you. He shows us the greatest little subtleties of music. He shows us who Pearl Jam really are.

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Miracle Best

I had this vision of how we could be absolutely everything. Limitless potential. When you meet someone in the street, you get to decide whether to be grumpy, or mildly acceptable, or to be the happy and free person you've always dreamed of being.

Our ages and our circumstances and our privileges or lack thereof are all real, and they influence so many things -- but so much more is left down to us. How often do we stand up and be all that we can be?

Hardly ever, is what I was thinking. But then maybe I'm just speaking about me.

That's why I like movies. Everyone is at their very best. Or at their very worst. Usually one of the extremes. Most of the time they complete a miracle change and go from bad to best in just under two hours.

Yet I don't think it's a miracle at all.

We hide behind imaginary walls, full in the safety of our homes and jobs and safety nets -- very rarely reaching out for everything.

Because it's scary, right? You can apply it to your creativity, and see all the times you've called yourself a writer but your actions have shown you to be anything but. Or you can look at your life -- and see how many times you said you'd go to the party but didn't. Or when you said you'd travel across the country to see a friend but found all the reasons not to.

And life goes and goes and disappears into nothing so quickly. You remember a day gone by from some year with a number much lower than this one and picture a moment of joy and completeness and oneness with yourself and with someone you were close to.

And that was far too long ago.

You figure life will throw you good times and opportunities and magic but really it's down to you, down to the amount of times you turn up rather than hide out. You were a Kid In The Front Row some time long ago - you'd try anything, go anywhere, stick your hand in the oven only to learn that it burns.

We don't want to get burned anymore -- so you play it safe and realise days have gone by and you're left with no heat at all.

You wake up one morning and put your socks on and realise this day will be a great one or a bad one or an indifferent one or maybe, if you're lucky, a mixture of all three and more. It's down to you and it's down to you and it's down to you. Scary, right?

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Youth / Old Age

There are two types of people in the world. Actually there are probably a lot more but these two types are so polarized and so prevalent in my life that I feel I need to address them. Because they'll be relevant to you too.

It's old age against youth. But I'm not talking years, I'm talking attitude. To be creative is to be five years old, lost in the possibilities, judging nothing, believing everything and anything anytime you can. You dream big and reach far.

And your life is filled with failure and near misses but you keep firing on, casing the promised land like some lost soul in a Springsteen song.

Old age is when you think you know the world. Think that what is is. You judge everything, because you know better. You know it's impossible.

And you're so quick to cut down anyone who tries. You throw lines at them about responsibility and risk and grown upness, and you're not satisfied until you've killed the young, left them losering, forced into drowning out their dreams and settling for a life surrounded by the same three people bitching about the weather.

This dynamic plays out in everyday circumstances. You get the choice to be caught up in the magic of life or you can claim to know the exact nature of everything and shut it down, close it off and hibernate until death.

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Thoughts On Writing

Any time you create; it's possible you'll create the greatest thing ever. It's unlikely, but it has to be possible, right? Your favourite book or movie or whatever, it was created by a human, I'm pretty sure of it.

Those of us who call ourselves writers; I don't think the dream is ever to be adequate. We wanna transcend. Wanna reach in where it matters.

So what does it take? Do you know it when you've made it?

Even if you know, will everyone else? Will your girlfriend know you've written something transcendent? Will your English teacher see your brilliance? Will the Facebook friend who thinks you're a waster be moved by your written words?

That's the strange thing, the individuals don't matter. Everyone who puts you down or disregards you has the potential to be wrong. Likewise, the masses have a tendency to miss out on brilliance at every opportunity.

I guess the only thing that really matters with your work is going to bed knowing you've done the best you can. Because when you've done well, you feel good. Maybe five million people like it or maybe only fifty. Just know that whatever the amount, it's enough.

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Just Outside Of Amsterdam

She was just a girl falling off a bike in a street somewhere near Amsterdam. I was only in town for a week. I only met her because I got lost looking for a way back to town.

She rode hard and fast into a wall which refused to move. She smashed into it and her bike flew up into the air as she dived into the wall, before smacking down on the pavement.

I asked if she needed help and hoped she spoke English and that she didn't need help. She did speak English and she did need help and when I should have been worrying about her leg that was bent all weird backwards I was instead falling in love with her eyes which were the most truthful things I'd ever seen.

The night rolled on by in some Dutch hospital full of sad people with her by my side. It's messed up but I didn't want to leave. Didn't want to face the fact that she would go back to her real life and her boyfriend and I'd go back to England and my Xbox. I didn't know for sure that she had a boyfriend except I did know for sure because sometimes you just know.

I turned to her and said "So I guess you need to--" and she jumped in before I said "go home" and said the sweetest words ever: "let me buy you dinner."

She bought me dinner and her beautiful blonde hair and truthful eyes danced in front of me for hours. I was at my best on this night. My jokes worked and my heart jumped high and my words pleased her.

Her leg healed up quick but I still insisted on carrying her home like some crazy fool all buzzed up on the Amsterdam breeze. We cracked on through the backstreets of somewhere, and I told her how excited I was by her. She kissed me and life hit its peak immediately.

Isn't life great when it's like that? You figure it's all set and steady and then one night you're in the wrong town and you find everything you ever needed. Her eyes continued to kill me in the best way but I knew she had a boyfriend and then I asked the question and wished I could take it back.

She looked down at the floor and both our hearts fell a little. "It's not what you think", she said, "and anyway, you live in a whole other country".

We kissed again but it was imbued with a sadness and then she enquired about my flight home. It went all funny and weird moments after it was great and then before I knew it I was headed home with only an email address scribbled on a napkin.

And I lost the fucking napkin.

Her name was Katya.

The above was a piece of fiction written in twenty minutes. I'm on a trip with friends and they're playing some board game that bores me like crazy so I tried cook up some fiction. Let me know what you think.

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