On Hiatus - thru January 9th

After a good long year of work, I’m taking a brief breather from this site as I plan the year ahead.

In the meantime, please check out my latest book, UNTITLED: Thoughts on the Creative Process and a few of my favorite posts:

• Crashing into the Seattle School
• To Find a Tea Kettle
• The Void & Why You Won’t Jump
• My Personal Creative Process
• Contain Yourself Already

Subscribe to the blog here to get the latest and then come find me on Twitter, Facebook, & Instagram.

See you soon, friends!

Giveaway: Untitled book & posters

Thanks to Random.org, I now give you the winners:

1. Toffi Seinsche
2. Eric Barz
3. Jason van Dyk
4. Ric Beemer

If you see your name, please shoot me an email with your mailing address, along with your e-version preference (Kindle or iBook).

If you didn’t win, you can still get a copy of the book (only $4.99) on Amazon and we’re also working on a way for you to possibly purchase posters very soon.

Thanks for playing, friends!

**********************

Man, things have been just crazy around these parts the last few weeks. Rehearsals, final cuts, critical feedback (more on that later).

But you know, what? I’m never too busy to give stuff away!

4 lucky winners will receive an e-copy of my book, UNTITLED, along with 4 custom posters inspired by quotes from the book created by some of my favorite designer friends - Allie Lehman, Nathan Michael, Bjorn Amundsen & Jesse Morrow.

To enter you simply need to do the following:

1. Comment below with your latest inspiration. Could be a quote, a link to a song, film, book title, piece of art, anything that’s inspiring you of late.
2. Tweet or Facebook the following: Enter to win a copy of UNTITLED by @blainehogan and 4 custom posters here: http://bit.ly/tFIFQH

4 winners will be randomly chosen on Monday, Dec. 12th at noon.

Good luck!

Official Trailer

We’re excited to release the official trailer for our Christmas short film! Come and see it for free December 18-24.

Look & Feel

Below is just a taste of the project we’ve been working on for the past few months.

We’re not telling the story in this first trailer, just some lovely images via Mr. Amundsen and lovely music courtesy of NIN.

We hope you enjoy the look & feel teaser for our short, Reaching Alice.

Crashing into the Seattle School

Many of us spend a good deal of our lives avoiding crashes (at least some of us do…ahem…Mr. Stock Market). We covet safety and convenience. We buckle up our lives, insulating them with attempted guarantees at an existence that won’t take us to uncomfortable or frightening places. We put bumpers around our hearts and look both ways when we cross the street. We take “calculated risks” and avoid intersections in favor of the straight and narrow.

Then life happens.

Inevitably we run into things. Sometimes fast and hard. Enough crashes and you can see why someone would be a little more cautious. Crashes hurt.

But what if we were intentional about our crashes? What if we ran headlong into intersections that might transform us into something new?

The Large Hadron Collider buried 574 feet below the ground near Geneva, Switzerland is attempting to do just that. According to a NY Times primer on the Collider, the particle physicists in charge of the project are doing what particle physicists do best - smashing things together and then watching what comes tumbling out. They hope that by hurtling bits of energy into one another within the 17 mile tube at incredible speeds, they might uncover some of the universe’s most deeply held secrets.

What I love about their work, although I don’t understand most of it, is their incredible intentionality. They know that good things come when you intentionally smash one thing into another for a purpose greater than seeing a mere explosion. And they’ve done this by intentionally creating a space, or container, or intersection, for said crashes to occur.

In my book, UNTITLED I wrote the following:

I’ve always been fascinated by the intersection of art and faith and, in fact, have always thought of all art as a spiritual experience.

Art seeks to tell the truth in dark places (movie houses, theatres, sanctuaries, museums) and it seems to me that’s what faith in God seeks to do as well – tell the truth in dark places.

We cannot hope to do this well unless we commit to a process of inner work and guidance from a higher power.

I have found that when I’m brave enough to venture into these arenas (into these intersections); when I’m able to offer my full self; when my inner self has been explored,

I tell the most truth and I create the best work.

The fascination with these intersections ultimately lead me to an extraordinary place called The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology (formerly known as Mars Hill Graduate School). You can read more about how it ruined my life in the very best of ways here, but in a few short words, it completely transformed me. Big words I know, and yet all the hyperbolic phrases in the world could not contain the profundity of my experience. In fact, were I a richer man I’d pay for everyone reading this post to go.

What this odd school sitting at the literal intersection of Elliott and Wall does best is create intentional space for transformational crashes to occur not dissimilar to those happening 175 meters below the Swiss Alps. They believe (as do I) that with intentionality, sacrifice, and a dot of hope, glorious things can be redeemed through the process of uncovering your story.

After my two disruptively beautiful years, I left with a Masters in Christian Studies with an emphasis in Creative Arts and Theology. The website describes the program as follows:

The Creative Art and Theology Track prepares students for the prophetic role of the artist. Students explore the intersection of theology and art in order to live into their artistic calling – the transformation of people and culture through the production of artwork and creative experiences.

It was in this intersection that I began to discover what I referred to above as my “full self.” It is because I ventured into this intersection that I’m starting to tell more truth and create continually better work.

Does something ache within you when you imagine smashing into a million bits only to be reformed into something new? Perhaps you’re ready to run headlong into a intersection at the Seattle School.

Their next application deadline is December 12th and they’re waiving the $50 application fee, which is darn nice of them.

If you’re thinking you’re at all interested, email me and I’d be happy to jump on the phone or Skype to chat about my experience. You can can also contact them at admissions here or call 888.977.2002.

May I remind you, however, that this school is not for the faint of heart.

It is only for those willing to step into the intersection without looking both ways in the hopes that something lovely might emerge by the time you get to the other side of the street.

*This was a sponsored post and yet the sum of money I received pales in comparison to the debt I owe this place.

If this captured your attention, perhaps you’d like to subscribe.

To Find a Tea Kettle

ME: Did you say you were bringing a tea kettle?

PRODUCER: No. You told me you were going to ask the owner for one…do we need one?

ME: We might. I was certain she had one, but I’m not finding it yet…

ME: Yes we do need one. So sorry!

ME: Also, do we have a pill bottle?

That text message conversation between myself and my producer, Rhianna, began 3 hours outside of Chicago, last Wednesday, during our first snowfall of the year. I was on set in a lavishly converted barnhouse having just realized that we lacked the tea kettle that was to play a major part in the scene. I called Rhianna, who was driving herself and the cast to the location to let her know I’d go and fetch one and that she shouldn’t bother.

How hard could it be to find a tea kettle? After all, I was in Warren, IL. Population 1,428.

After ruling out the local Wal-Mart and Target only because “local” meant 45 minutes away, I headed into town.

Truly I didn’t have time to go hunting around a tiny town for props, but the rest of the crew was tied up with the set, so off I went. I tried the pharmacy first. I thought surely they’d have a tea kettle. I realized rather quickly that the Warren Drug was not a CVS (although they happily gave me an empty pill bottle after I told them we were making a movie).

The kind ladies at Warren Drug suggested I try Hartzell’s IGA, the grocery store at the edge of town right by the grain elevator. So I did. Hartzell’s was everything you’d hope a small town grocer would be. Family-owned and operated for three generations, friendly as all get out, AND they’ve got their own video store tour which you absolutely must see. While Hartzell’s did have “wide aisles for easy shopping” (see aforementioned video), no tea kettles.

The sweet ladies at the deli counter were sorry I hadn’t found what I was looking for and one even offered up her own personal tea kettle. They suggested I go back into town and try the hardware store. If the hardware store didn’t have one they suggested that, quite possibly, the brick building across the street from the hardware store might be able to help. Apparently, this said unnamed store was owned by a guy named Chuck who sometimes forgets to turn his “open” sign on, and if that was the case, I should look for a red truck out back, which means he’s probably there and asleep, so I should knock loudly.

So…I went back into town and headed for the hardware store. Well wouldn’t you know it, right next to the hardware was a little antique and ceramics shop. I’ll spare you the creepy details of the thousands of unpainted bunnies and gnomes stacked floor to ceiling and simply say that there, tucked in a dusty corner, was a perfect, blue, metal tea kettle. And it was only $3.50. I pulled out my debit card. They only took cash. One more trip across the street to the General Store’s ATM and I was on my way back to the set.

As I settled onto the highway, something nagged at my heart. What could it be? Despite an odd, slightly frustrating, and unexpected trip around a town I’d never been to, I had found everything I was looking for.

And then I saw it.

As I had been racing all around Warren, IL I had been passing staggering amounts of beauty.

But I wasn’t looking for staggering amounts of beauty. I was looking for a tea kettle…and an empty pill bottle.

The feeling arrested me.

So I stopped…(even though I didn’t have time)…looked around…(even though I didn’t have time)…and took a few photos.

As I got back into the car I wondered how often I do this. I’m pulled off a project to go hunt for an unexpected item and consider it a distraction from my original goal. Seth Godin would call these interruptions, “interesting problems,” and when confronted with such obstacles we always have options.

My point?

I simply wonder if all our detours, particularly during our projects, or even in life, aren’t really distractions at all, but rather opportunities for seeing staggering amounts of beauty; for seeing things in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

Too often I think I’m supposed to be looking for one thing, when really I’m supposed to be finding, unearthing, discovering another.

And the only way to find it, or to see it, is to stop and look around.

Even if I don’t have time.

Making Movies

For the past 6 months we’ve been in development and pre-production for our Christmas short film. Without giving too much away, the story we’re telling is based on the log line below:

In order to save her job, a skeptical reporter with a mysterious illness is forced to research a story she believes is a hoax, only to discover there maybe a personal connection.

Three weeks ago we began shooting principal photography for the challenging, 15-day shoot.

My boss likes us to always try and operate just slightly above our skill level. He believes this is the place where we do our best work and experience the most growth. With 8 principal characters, 12+ locations, and one scene with 300+ extras and falling snow, I would have to say that I’m smack-dab in the middle of this special space (if not slightly above).

And I’m loving every. single. minute. of. it.

Here are few behind-the-scenes photos from the shoot thus far.

The Void & Why You Won’t Jump

A few months ago I got an email from a guy named, Michael Neale. It started with some kind remarks and then quickly turned into a pitch. I get a few of these a month. Most don’t interest me. This isn’t to say they aren’t great ideas, it’s just that they aren’t a “fit.”

Michael’s project, however, was quite interesting.

He had written a novel and a rough script for a live version of the story, complete with original music, and needed help crafting the piece. The Wife and I jumped on board and started our work with him.

Last week I found myself in West Palm Beach, Florida taking Michael through the piece. Michael isn’t an actor, he’s a performer, so I was there to help direct his actions and intentions onstage. It was a ball.

We spent the better part of 12 hours together battling through technical difficulties, memorizing lines, emotions, and blocking. As the day wore on, the stress of the impending event loomed over Michael. He had invited close to 2,000 people to come and watch him tell a story that he had written. It was a big-boy version of what many of us awkwardly artistic kids did whenever we had family over for the holidays. Remember those little shows you’d put on? You’d rehearse your lines and then when the time was just right, you’d invite the aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and grandparents down to the basement to see what you’d been working on all night.

As I watched Michael onstage that afternoon, powering through the exhaustion and anxiety, it became clear to me why we stop inviting our families into the basement to see the things we’ve made, and why most of us stop making things at all:

It’s scary.

The fear is overwhelming and it’s precisely why such little good work gets made, in my opinion.

My best friend just quit his job and can’t sleep. Another good friend moved to a completely new city for love and is terribly depressed. My new project is causing more than its fair share of “what-have-I-gotten-myself-into-this-time?” anxiety.

My point is…jumping ain’t easy.

We know if we quit our jobs, we might not sleep for three months. We know that if we follow our hearts, it might possibly lead to a certain kind of melancholy. We know that if we try and fulfill our visions, we may be plagued with dark clouds questioning our artistry and skill.

Why does this happen?

When we jump into risky endeavors we create space. The space is created, in part, because of the things that needed to be let go of to jump in the first place. This void is ripe for sadness, anxiety, fear, depression, death, and grief.

Sounds terrible doesn’t it?

And yet this is the space I most want to live in and it’s also the space I want you to live as well.

The beauty about this scary space is that if you stay there long enough new life is born.

My friend will find a fulfilling job, I’m sure of it. My other friend will discover what he is to become. I know that my project will teach me things I didn’t know I could do. Michael Neale may very well make a million dollars telling a beautiful story.

And you…you can and will as well, but only if you decide to stare that pesky fear in the face, invite the family back into the basement, and say (quite literally, in fact), “To hell with you! I’m making scary things today!”

Recovery

A number of friends of mine ran the Chicago marathon last week. One brave soul I know ran 100 miles. For most, the last 10 days have been ones of recovery. Ice baths, 5,000 or so bananas, and gallons of water and protein shakes. All in the name of putting back in what was left on the course.

Late this summer I released my first book. It was indeed a marathon sprinkled with a sprint near the end. I heaved UNTITLED out the door and then spent the next month trying to convince people to read it, blog about it, promote it, like it. By the time August was over, I had left most of my words out on the course, as it were. I was spent. I had pushed my head and heart to their limits and needed a proverbial ice bath myself. That meant no writing and no blogging.

Instead, I read, played with my beautiful daughter, took walks with her along the path outside our place where the leaves were threatening to change, made my first batch of early Fall chili, watched every movie I could, and started a huge new project for work.

I’m an intake person. I need music, words, food, film and friends to be inspired and get filled back up.

Here is a little of what’s been aiding my recovery:

BOOKS
Falling Upward - Richard Rohr
We’re All Weird - Seth Godin
Beauty Will Save The World - Gregory Wolfe
Uncertainty - Jonathan Fields
Let the Great World Spin - Colum McCann
Holy Longing - Ronald Rolheiser

FILMS
Tree of Life
Drive (though quite violent, just FYI)
Ides Of March
Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop
Moneyball

MUSIC
Lia Ices
Barcelona
Brownout
Ben Rector
Jesse Morrow

At any rate, I’m full. I’m back and ready to write again.

Never Beyond

My good friends over at People Of The Second Chance are launching a new series/art project!

The NEVER BEYOND series will feature 25 posters representing well known historical, current and fictional characters who are believed to have harmed society. Their campaign will consist of digital and print posters and the full collection will eventually be displayed as a touring art exhibit.

Go here to learn more about the project and how you can get involved.

For today’s discussion, answer the following two questions:

• Who do you think is featured below?
• Who would you have a hard time giving a second chance?