When I contacted Alonso about being interviewed, he admitted that every time he saw a new interview on my blog, a little piece of him died from disappointment that he wasn’t the one being featured. Well now, his time had come. Despite his enthusiasm, getting the answers articulated via email just wasn’t working for him. So, together, we made a little piece of taffystay.com history – I present to you my first interview conducted via Skype!

I met Alonso in 1997 when we both worked at Learningsmith. He was quiet at first, but little by little, revealed more of his personality. To my relief, he wasn’t immature, an annoying chatterbox, girl/boy crazy, or moody, like all the other co-workers. What stood out to me most then and now was that the world was his classroom, and he was passionate about learning. Back then, he was taking karate lessons and pursuing music. He learned a number of instruments, and quickly excelled. It seemed like everything he did, from creating figures out of clay to playing flamenco guitar, he did well. He was so excited about what he enjoyed doing, and his passion was contagious.

Throughout our friendship, we talked about our dreams and our interests, and not once did he tell me that something was impossible for me. He was imaginative and goofy, and we could act like dorks one moment, and then switch to a serious conversation the next moment. He believed in me with unwavering confidence and responded to my smallest accomplishments with enthusiastic affirmation.

We’ve exchanged e-mails throughout the years, but seven years has passed since we last saw each other. Matt and I met up with Alonso and his then-gf/now-wife Defne for lunch in SF in 2003. Unfortunately, my strongest memory from that day was that their dog got scolded for humping my leg. Before I left for Brazil, we took a road trip from Chicago to Sacramento in two days. Alonso was committed to getting back to California ASAP so we bypassed any tourist attractions. We memorized the states in alphabetical order to keep ourselves sane, marveled at spiral haystacks, and rejoiced when we hit the lush forests that welcomed us back to California. That road trip was the last time we spent a good chunk of time together and, even then, I knew we most likely would not be living in the same city again.

The 31-year-old goatee/mustache-sporting guy that I saw on Skype last week definitely didn’t match the 20-something guy that I still pictured in my head. Indeed, we had grown older, but it was great to see that he was essentially the same guy I met many years ago, who still was easy to talk to, who had great insight, and was still just as encouraging.

I’m excited to share our conversation with you all here. It’s a bit lengthy, even in its abridged form, but I think it has great nuggets and is worth the read. (And after this, you can check out his website.)

1. One goal you’re striving for…is to be good at what I do, to be good at whatever it is I’m doing. Or just in general, to shy away from mediocrity. No to mediocrity!

2. What aspect of filmmaking is most appealing to you? It’s an art form that is a collaboration of other art forms that I’m interested in, like music, narrative, visual art. You have to put all that together to make a film. So in a way, it was natural for me to fall into it, coming from a musical and very visual background. Although, I’m not somebody who watched all the movies as a kid or went to the theater all the time, or knows which director did what and in which year. Or I’m not somebody who says film is everything for me, or that it’s the best. It’s just another medium. It’s a great one, a complicated one, and a collaborative one, which is interesting since I consider myself someone who works alone a lot.

I’m actually starting to find the beauty in collaborating. I think after you go through thinking “This is mine” and wanting to control everything, you see that it’s so much better when you collaborate with people. You surround yourself with people whose opinions are also along the lines of what you want to say.

3. You’ve been living in Spain for about five years now. What is one thing you miss most about living in San Francisco (excluding family and friends)? I really miss the City College of San Francisco. I started filmmaking at city college, I started playing guitar at city college. Anything that you have any kind of curiosity about, you can explore. Just to the extent where you can see how interested you are in it. They have great classes. I love city college. I wish I could have a place like that here where I could take some classes without feeling like I have to commit to a big huge thing. Then there are things like La Taqueria, visiting restaurants like In N Out Burger, this ghetto pool hall where I used to play pool with my buddy in Daly City, customer service with a smile. Those are the first things that jump out. People are kind of loud and very opinionated here. It’s fine, but it’s a little [he puts his hands up and pretends to back up], especially when you first meet someone.

And what is something you like about Spain that you won’t find in the States?

The thing that jumps out at me right off the bat, as far as Spain goes, is for example how they will never bring you the check at a restaurant unless you ask for it. This used to piss me off, because I considered it bad service, but I’ve learned to appreciate that they’re not rushing you to get out so they can seat someone else. When I visit the States, it’s always surprising the first few times they bring me the check right away, but then I just have to remember that that’s how I used to like it. Seems like a little quirk, but I think it’s pretty representative of how people view time and the need to keep moving. Neither is better than the other, just different.

4. You’re stranded on an island and you have two books, two albums and two movies with you. Which ones would they be? To me, it sounds like I’m stranded, I’m all alone, there’s no power supply, no DVD players, nothing. What’d I’d do to that list is, I’ll take the two books, but I’ll take the two DVDs and CDs and trade them in for a blanket, extra pair of shoes, and a Swiss Army knife. And the two books will be a survival guide and Arabian Nights – short stories I can read over and over. Hope that doesn’t disqualify me.

5. You’ve developed many interests over the years. What is one thing that you’ve never devoted time to, but would love to learn/do one day? Something I’ve never REALLY devoted time to – some time, but just very little – is painting. I think that’s a really beautiful, incredible art form. You’re doing such complicated, intricate and sophisticated pieces with such primitive tools. I think it’s a really magical art form that I would really like to know, but I don’t think there’s enough time. But that’s because I like to do things well, so it’s hard for me. As I get older, it’s getting a little easier for me to take on hobbies where I just do them OK. Like music has become a hobby for me now. Actually, I enjoy playing a lot more now than when I did it professionally. I don’t have these expectations of myself.

What kind of things would you paint?

I don’t know, but I’d be curious to see what kind of things I end up painting.

6. If you could channel the strength and spirit of any historical figure, who would it be and why? I’d probably have to say Miyamoto Musashi, the Japanese swordsman who wrote “The Book of Five Rings.” He had his own school of double-sworded fencing. I really admire someone who is that good at what they do – 60 duels or something like that – somebody who has that much conviction about what they do. He was kind of a hermit, so I can identify with that, too.

7. If you could go back in time and visit yourself in a previous time, when would that be, and what would you tell yourself? I’d probably go back to my high school years and tell myself to chill out, to relax, to not take everything so seriously. It’s no big deal. Nothing’s a big deal.

So you thought you were serious back then?

I just always think I stress out too much about things. I overthink things and take everything too seriously. And it’s no big deal. Everything’s fine. Like if I look back 20 years ago, I think, “Why was I so stressed out?” If I look back 10 years ago, I think, “Why was I so stressed out?” Ten years from now, I’ll look back at now and think, “I was young and beautiful, why was I so stressed out?” Really, I should try to realize that now. Everything’s fine. It’s a work in progress. Someone like me always has to work with stress, but I’m trying to learn to take things lighter.

What do you do to help yourself do that?

I try to remind myself constantly that everything is fine. It’s hard. I don’t do it very often, and I don’t do it very well. It helps that Defne (his wife) is so good at it. It helps to give me a perspective of someone who is sane and logical, who is like, “Well, look at it this way.” So it really helps to have someone like Defne who is not such a basketcase.

For example, I stress out so much about projects. If I take on a project, I really try to do the best I can. I really focus, stress out, and put all my energy into it. I’ve gotten better at it, though. The first video I did last year, it was a month of full stress. I was so consumed and couldn’t think about anything else. I started doubting myself, that kind of thing. Then you have to step back and think, well, you’re not saving the world or anything. You’re just making a video. It’s a guy singing, and people are going to watch it – or not watch it – on Youtube or TV. And the world is going to go on. You’re not curing AIDS or anything like that. No one’s going to die. Really, just enjoy what you’re doing. You’re lucky to be doing this, to be relatively good at what you do, and be surrounded by a crew of people who are very supportive and love you. You have your health, you’re young, you know? I have to look at it that way to de-stress myself.

Yeah, what’s the worst that can really happen?

I do think of the worst case scenario, and it’s not that bad. Everybody makes a bad movie.

It’s easy to put a lot of pressure on yourself to want to do it perfectly.

And some people don’t. There are people who do good work, and there are people who do the other stuff. Just as an example, there are people who do really bad stuff, not any good at all – I’m not pointing any fingers or anything. You watch the shorts and you can’t find an explanation for how they came to be. Then you’re talking to the filmmaker and they say, “Don’t you think this is great?!” And you say, “Sure, if you think so.” “Yeah it’s awesome, it’s great, I’m going to make another one!” And they go on and make another one and another one…and you gotta admire those people because I wish I was that happy, that oblivious to things. They really enjoy things a lot more than we do. They made 100 films while we were thinking, “The first one I make has to be perfect.” So in five years, you haven’t done anything, and they’ve made 100. And because they’ve made 100, they’re so good at it now. They have all the experience, when it’s really hard for a perfectionist to get just one out. “Oh, if it’s not good, I should just kill myself.”

A couple of years ago, I started thinking about how I should take myself less seriously. I could do bad things, I can make jokes, I can laugh at myself, so I started making goofy videos with my friends as a kind of therapy. I think goofy videos with friends are what people start out doing because they have a lot of fun with it.

How do you get over that, though? Wanting to be perfect at things, especially things that other people see?

You need to write 30 bad, bad scripts in order to write that one good one. Last year I discovered – well, I didn’t discover it, it’s been discovered – national novel writing month. In principle, it’s amazing. They tell you, write 50,000 words. Doesn’t matter what you write. Don’t go back to edit. Pretty much what they’re doing is encouraging you to just plow forward because what you have to develop first is the habit of writing. If you keep going back and revising the same 12 pages, you’re never going to finish 50 pages. I think that’s something I’ve gotten better at.

The last few weeks, I’ve been writing a different story every two to three days. I’ll wake up and I don’t like [the stories], but I won’t dwell on it or wonder how I’m going to fix it. I just go, “Next one.” And I did like four or five stories in the last two to three weeks, and now I’m writing one that I actually like. So I wouldn’t have gotten to this one if I hadn’t done the other ones. It’s a very important thing to realize. Perfectionists never do anything. A perfect example is this. I met Defne through flamenco. I was learning to play guitar. She was this beautiful great dancer. I said, “I’m not going to introduce myself to her until I could play like Paco de Lucia.” I still can’t play like him. I never will be able to play like him.

You just have to step out of yourself and say, I’m married to the person I love, to a person who loves me, my parents are doing great, I’m doing what I love to do. I’m good at what I do. I should be excited and happy about what I’m doing. I’m writing this book, or I’m shooting this movie, or I’m painting this thing. I have deadlines, but hey, what a wonderful challenge. And if this one is bad, then the next one will be good. You learn more from your mistakes than your successes.

That’s good for me to hear. I’m such a perfectionist that I don’t want to do things unless I know I can do them well.

It’s a learned process. A couple of years ago, I did some paintings. I thought, “This is going to be really fun.” I did my first two paintings, and they turned out pretty good. Then I was expecting the third one to be awesome, and it wasn’t, and I got depressed. Then I told myself, “Alonso, get over yourself.” It’s just pride. So, get over yourself, Mel.

Recently, there was a project that we were having problems with. I was upset because these different issues were preventing me from doing a good job. It was outside of my control, all these things that were happening. I was like, “How do you expect me to do a good job if you put me in this situation?” Then one day, I realized, “It’s not about me. I’m making it about me, that’s why I’m so upset.” You have to realize it’s not about you. It’s about the art, the artist, the work. And when you remove “you” from it, suddenly there’s no possibility of pain or suffering. Stop making it about yourself, and you’ll be fine. There’s a story that needs to be told. It wants to come out. It’s for the sake of IT, not for the sake of you.

8. Name a book or movie character thand at you most identify with and why? This was an easy one. Barry Egan from “Punch Drunk Love,” a movie by Paul Thomas Anderson. It’s a character played by Adam Sandler in this drama. This guy is very disturbed, a socially awkward person with obsessive tendencies. He’s harmless, but has a lot of issues. He’s kind of compulsive as well. He has a hard time in crowds and getting along with people. Matter of fact, every time I watched the movie with people, I was very self-conscious because I thought people could recognize me. I could totally identify a lot with him.

Is there an example from the movie that you can remember?

I just think overall, the whole aura. Not quite as extreme. Watch it. Rent it tonight.

9. What is one thing you’ve learned about yourself since being married? I don’t know if, since the status change happened, anything has changed. Definitely something has changed, but I don’t think I’d say I learned something about myself. We were together 7 years before we were married, lived together for 6, and have been married for 2 1/2 or something like that. Going to be 3 in july. For us, the next day, everything was just better. We just smiled more. We looked at each other and just wanted to smile more. Ever since then, it has stayed like that. We’re happier about it, and about everything. I don’t know why. It was like, “That was awesome. That was a great idea.” Maybe I learned that, to us, it did make a difference. It was a logical decision. Maybe in the past, people did it out of tradition, not for a specific reason. I don’t even know why we did it, but it improved something that was already good. It just makes us smile more.

10. What is something that always inspires you?
NO.

What?

I was joking. That’s a hard question. I don’t know where to hit it from. All this is going to sound cheesy or cliche – I don’t know how not to. But I think I’m inspired by honesty – honesty in people’s work, in people. Honesty always makes the best work, always gets you the best results. Nothing that is being made with a specific result or reaction expected, because the focus was the thing itself that’s being made.

11. One word you’d use to describe yourself: Compulsive or obsessive

12. One word that others would use to describe you: Obsessive

13. What is one “What if…” question that you ask yourself? I don’t ask myself “what if” questions. It’s just not good for you. I stay away from those.

14. The thought that usually pops in your head when you first wake up is…gotta check my email. Matter of fact sometimes – you know, when you open your eyes at 5 or 6 in the morning – I have my iPod next to my bed. I squint, check my email and then go back to sleep. It’s not even a thought, it’s just a reaction, although I do it less nowadays. Before, I would actually read the email and then I’d be able to go back to sleep. But because I was half asleep when I read the email, I forgot that I got it and I wouldn’t reply to it. So it’s not good for anybody.

Are you looking for or waiting for something specific?

Well, I got this email from a Nigerian prince once, and I accidentally deleted it, so I’m hoping for him to write back.

I think he wrote to me, so I can forward it to you.

Excellent! I have no idea what I’m looking for. I check my email six times a day, if not 100. But sometimes you get like six emails – actual emails – and I think, “Aw man, why did they all have to come at the same time?” I could have checked my email 10 times and gotten an email each time. But they all have to email me in the same hour, so it’s kind of a bummer.

I think you need more things to do.

Yeah. I need help. Professional help being sought.

OK, I will present that to my readers.

At the end of the interview, we joked about an exaggerated obsession with aging (since we both wouldn’t mind looking a little older). Here are Alonso’s tips:

“Crack. A lot of crack. Five years of smoking crack will give you 25 years of wrinkles.” - On how to look older

“Keep facial expressions to a minimum. That will save you a lot on face cream.” - On how not to get wrinkles

(Shooting a short film, which has gotten into 19 film festivals, in the south of France; An exercise tonot take himself seriously which resulted in winning second place in a short film competition; Playing chess with Defne while cat sitting)

(As a side note, I think I’ll conduct future interviews via phone or Skype. Although I’m not a phone person, I really enjoyed the interaction and dialogue that resulted from a Skype interview. It also meant more work on my end, and the interviews end up being really long, but this was the type of conversational interview that I had in mind from the beginning.)

Here’s a conversation between me and two guys who work at our office’s food vendor:

Me: I noticed there are smoothies on the menu. Do you guys make them?

Guy #1: No, sorry.

Guy #2: What kind do you want?

Guy 1: (to Guy #2) We make smoothies?

Me: What kind can you make?

Guy #2: Vanilla.

Me: Oh. That’s OK. I was hoping for something fruity.

Guy #2: How about peppermint?

Me: Um…no, that’s OK. Thanks, though.

First all, I never considered peppermint to be an option for a fruit smoothie. And second, a peppermint smoothie sounds nasty. I appreciate the effort of the guys, though. At least they were willing to try.

Last year when I was training for the Rock ‘n’ Roll half-marathon, people would ask me, “What’s your goal?” as in, “How fast are you hoping to run the race?” My answer: My goal is to finish, and my secondary goal is to run the whole way. Happily, I met both goals. I didn’t think I’d run the race again, but about a month and half ago, I decided to do it again. The main motivator behind my decision was that Na will be running in the same race (although she’ll be doing the whole marathon). I don’t anticipate seeing her at all, since she’s way faster than I am, but it’ll be fun to be able to say we were in the same race.

This time around, I feel stronger – physically and as a runner. I still have those days when I have to walk after running a mile, but I also have those days when I can run 5 miles without stopping. Those days are definitely encouraging. I’m also ready to take the next step and actually shoot to finish by a certain time. I’ve had a time in my head, but I’ve been hesitant to vocalize it to people. I fear that if I tell people – and I am slower than my goal – I’ll feel like a failure. Also, I fear that my goal seems “easy.” After all, [enter friend's name here] ran this race in [enter time here], but oftentimes, I don’t consider that other people have been running for more years, are stronger runners in general, or run way more than I do. Comparison is a brutal stumbling block.

The topic of trying and failing has come up twice in the past few days, and I’ve been reminded yet again that I have an unhealthy fear of failing. Yet what is failure? If I try, and even if I don’t meet my expectation, I have not failed. Failure is not even trying.

In a recent conversation with an old friend, Alonso, about this, I brought up how I still get nervous going into the roda. I’m not nervous about getting kicked. I’m nervous about messing up and looking like a fool. Alonso responded, “Because if you mess up, the person holding the berimbau is going to stop the roda and tell everyone to stop so that they could talk about how you messed up. And when they get home, they’re going to call all their friends and say, ‘Hey, guess what Mel did in the roda today!’” The mental picture was funny, and it magnified just how silly my fear was.

The same goes for my goal for this year’s half-marathon. If I tell people my goal and I don’t make it, no one is going to laugh at me or criticize me. No one’s going to leave rude comments on my blog and tell me what a loser I am. At least I’m trying – and at least I’m doing my best to train. That, in itself, is already success.

So as a small step toward getting over my fear of “failure,” I’ll make it public today that my goal for this year’s half-marathon is 2:20. Last year, I came in at 2:43, so I’m aiming to shave 23 minutes off. Not a bad goal.

Cheer me on, friends. I think I’ll need it. :)

Last week, one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, was in town. The type of writing that I feel most comfortable and compelled to do sort of mirrors the type of nonfiction writing that she does. I don’t want to say that I want to write like Anne Lamott because then people will just say, “She wants to be the next Anne Lamott.” Not such a bad idea, but comparing yourself to someone else just means that if you are more like yourself than the person you’re comparing yourself to, you will have seemed to miss your mark. (Does that make sense?)

I like Anne Lamott’s short essay format that describes a situation in her life, with deeper meaning pulled out of the mundane. This is what goes on in my head all the time. I think that’s why I am so comfortable with solitude. I’m much more comfortable creating a monologue in my head than trying to make small talk with other people.

I didn’t make a point to get to Anne Lamott’s reading early or even on time, so I got stuck in the back of the crowd. A short person in the back of a standing-room only situation is never good. Keba showed up, and tried to find holes in the crowd where I might be able to see Anne’s head. On tiptoe in some spots, I could barely make out the roots of her dreads. “She looks just like she does in her books,” Keba said.

She read about 10 minutes of her latest novel, which I really had no interest in. I’m a much bigger fan of her nonfiction work. When she opened the floor up for her questions, I thought, “This is it! She’s going to inspire me with her advice on writing!” And then the questions came. From where I was standing, I couldn’t hear what was being asked, but I could pretty much guess what they were based on her answers. She gave advice to a parent of a toddler on how to stay in touch with her child when he/she became a teenager. To another parent, she said, “If you think something is wrong in your child’s life, something probably is.” *yawn*, I thought.

I was sorely disappointed. If I could have pressed my way to the front of the crowd (or better yet, dropped on a stretcher through the roof of Barnes & Nobles by caring friends), I would have asked her how she overcame the hurdle of baring her soul and not caring what other people thought of her. Honestly, that is what keeps me from being completely candid whenever I put anything down on paper (and online). “My parents don’t know this or that about me. What will they think?” “I know so and so reads this and would probably be offended if I wrote this.” I censor myself, knowing who reads my blog. I seriously care too much what people think of me, so I want to know how she does it. How can she be open with her thoughts and experiences without wondering if future encounters with friends and family will be awkward? Or it just that I think my friends and family are more judgmental than they really are?

Yesterday after a very fun and inspiring interview with my next blog interviewee (hopefully to be posted within the next week or so), I was hugely inspired to be more disciplined about writing (again). And, with perfect timing, I received an alert from the library that a book was waiting for me: Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life.” I’d read the book already but wanted to reread it.

During my lunch break today, I started rereading the book while walking around the parking lot. Just by reading her intro alone on how she became interested in writing, the urge to pick up and pen and jot down my thoughts was so strong. When she talked about how much she loved reading and writing, I grinned and wanted to cheer, “YES!! That’s me!!” But there I was, in the middle of the parking lot, with only 10 minutes left before I had to return to my cube to work. To write, nonetheless, but not for myself.

Maybe my words aren’t inspiring, but I can at least share with you some of Anne’s that have spoken to me:

Writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises. That thing you had to force yourself to do – the actual act of writing – turns out to be the best part. It’s like discovering that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine, what you really needed was the tea ceremony. The act of writing turns out to be its own reward.

…for some of us, books are as important as anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die. They are full of all the things that you don’t get in real life…And quality of attention: we may notice amazing details during the course of a day but we rarely let ourselves stop and really pay attention. An author makes you notice, makes you pay attention, and this is a great gift.

(BTW, pics from the flash mob and my parents’ weekend in Seattle are now up in my Picasa gallery!)

I participated in this on Saturday and had a blast, especially since it was a tribute to one of my new fave shows GLEE!!!! What made it more special was that I got to do it with my mom (and sort of my dad) and Keba. The element of surprise that is more evident in other flash mobs was missing (since there were SO many people participating), but it was still a lot of fun and really amazing to watch. We were in the back for each performance, so it’s cool to see these videos that were shot from up front.

I know hairography (flinging your hair around to distract from the dance moves) is part of Glee, but I have the hardest time working out/dancing/doing anything physical without my hair tied back. It really annoys me to have it around my face, but hairography seems to make dancers look like they’re more energetic and into the moves. If we had planned this better, we should have had someone sitting in a wheelchair to pay homage to Artie (and then have him jump out of the chair to join the dance!), and I could wear my old cheerleading outfit (assuming it still fits after 17 years…) to be a Cheerio (cheerleading squad in Glee).

Here’s the official video from the production company that put on the flash mob. The older gentleman with the blue shirt and earpiece is great!

And here’s a portion of our actual performance underneath the Space Needle. Be sure to watch till the very end for a special guest appearance.

I’ll post some pictures later…