We are all wonderful, beautiful wrecks. That’s what connects us – that we’re all broken, all beautifully imperfect.
We don’t think about pilgrimage in this country. We don’t think about meditation. The idea of taking a six-week walk is totally foreign to most Americans. But it’s probably exactly what we need.
In the current climate, we live in a pessimistic and non-idealistic world.
The low-hanging fruit is cynicism and pessimism, and it’s there if you want it. You can reach out and you can grab it, you don’t even have to make any effort.
I used to Google my name to see what came up – it hurt.
I probably grow half my food. It’s a good way to keep perspective.
I’m not a Luddite, but I’m outside more than I’m on my computer. We have a micro-farm – it’s a step up from a garden. We have a pretty extensive vineyard. We grow about 60 percent of our own food, make our own wine, have chickens for eggs.
Madrid is enjoyed most from the ground, exploring your way through its narrow streets that always lead to some intriguing park, market, tapas bar or street performer. Each night we’d leave our hotel to begin a new adventure in Madrid and nine out of 10 times, we’d walk through the Plaza Mayor.
You don’t choose a life, dad. You live one.
Literally, if someone says I am grounded, everyday I am at home, I actually have my hands in the ground and dirt under my fingernails. I don’t have a staff to do it all for me. I still plant a seed and I’m amazed it grows.
If only media people would stop reaching for the low-hanging fruit, which is cynicism and pessimism, and stopped trying so hard to be hip and cool and have a swagger.
My father is the Hollywood equivalent of a clean, fillet-brazed frame. My brother is like one of those fat-tubed aluminum Cannondales. I’m more like one of those Taiwanese Masis.
In making certain things easier for people, technology has actually demotivated people from using their brains. We have all these devices that keep us connected, and yet we’re more disconnected than ever before. Why is that?
My mother missed having dinner with Lyndon Johnson because she couldn’t find the right hat to wear. While my father went off to the white house to break bread with the President, my mother, who’s not a things and stuff person, stayed at the hotel and tried on 10 different hats and missed dinner.
People are beautiful wrecks.
What I find interesting is that the people that follow your Twitters are called ‘followers.’ Talk about false idolatry, right?
You make a film and you don’t know who it’s going to appeal to.
Since the beginning of time, every child on the planet has endeavored to please their parents.
We’re all imperfect. And wouldn’t it be great if the message sent out by the mainstream media is that we’re fine being exactly who we are? Wouldn’t that be great for everyone?
We’ve lost touch and allowed technology to take precedence over organic nature. But let’s not forget that those microchips in our computers came from elements of the earth.