Filmed/Edited by Alexis Szoke

BATEAU à VOILE, partie I from lexography on Vimeo.

BATEAU à VOILE, partie II from lexography on Vimeo.

Gentle Mornings By Alexis Szoke

A morning in the late September brushed through the air like the callused leaves that scathed the ground. Stillness was hushing the rousing world for the sky to finish its show. We were awake, her and I. It seemed as if this quiet time before the day begun was made for us to have. The porch lights were still lit and all that could be heard were the gentle noises of the grass shifting wispily with the dawn. All was still. In the distance I could hear the jagged sounds of china from the kitchen. Mama was preparing our morning tea. As she approached from behind me, I listened to the way each one of her shoes gracefully touched the ground; cautious, but with purpose. Silently she rested a cup before my palms, directed her attention to the sky and took to within her own thoughts, as was I. I like this unspoken conversation we have with each other. There is no need for narration or question, just silence. Mama tells me there’s not enough of it in the world these days. She tells me there’s no good reason why people talk as much as they do. It’s just compensation for all of the quiet mornings they’ve been missing out on. Maybe that’s why she favors the morning sun over the evening- because there are more quiet conversations like ours happening. Mama teaches me things like all Mama’s do- how to comb my hair and fold my bed. But its times like these where Mama teaches me about all the best parts I like inside myself- my thoughtfulness, my contemplation, my gentle side. It was as if when we looked at the same beauty somehow could connect and tell each other of all the quiet things we noticed about life. We don’t stay too quiet for long though. Just as the slow rise pushed out, a light kissed the horizon and Mama and I gasped. It has never stopped surprising us how brilliant the sun looks against the hazy pastels of the open sky. The sun was so small. But in a second, the moment passes; the roaring ball begins to swell and life overcame the stillness. “What are your hopes for the day, baby?” she prompted, but I could tell her attention was still focused on the sky. As I thought briefly about the day ahead, a nervous buzz began to rattle through my chest. “Well I want to ace my science test today… but I don’t know, I don’t think I will.” “Now don’t say thoughts like that. Why not?” Mama’s disposition remained even, though the slight cringe of her face showed that it was being challenged. “I don’t know why, Mama. I just get nervous all my thoughts are gonna fall right out of my head; like my mind’ll go blank.” She didn’t say anything for a long minute. She just looked at me; let my words hang in the air, dissolving right before us. I was sure the conversation was over at that point- Mama doesn’t like to talk about don’ts and can’ts, so usually she just doesn’t talk anymore. But, a gestured nod, her face shifted off of me and back to the sun, “You see that right there?” I nodded hesitantly, wondering where she was going with this. “That sun right there is about the only thing we used to worry about, long ago. Hell bent on trying to figure out where it goes. Every day was like a new blessing, when the sun rose from the sky once more and warmth began to bring the world to life again; nobody cared ‘bout anything else!” Mama stopped and thought about this for a minute, then placed her gentle hand over mine and looked hard at my eyes. “Baby, don’t be afraid of that sun. It’s never as hot as it feels or as small as it looks. Life is gonna tell you otherwise sometimes and it might even make you scared a little bit….. But God, that sunrise right there,” in inhaled in reverence; her eyes glistening at the reflection of its beauty, “that’s about the only thing that matters right now, don’t you think?” I felt her words mending my nervous bones as the sun embraced my body with warmth. Nothing else truly else mattered besides the miracle between that sun and my beating heart. How lucky was I to spend another day on this porch, breathing in the morning’s wonders, with Mama by my side to show me the world. “That’s the only thing that matters,” I repeated her soothing words back, trying them out on my lips. They tasted like stillness. Her palm grazed my back and rested around my shoulder, “Then so it is.” And with that, so it was. The day had begun. At first still and quiet, then all at once. Even amongst the ignition of day, calmness still resided through my body; like the smooth spooling of water down a crystal clear glass. These mornings with Mama, our conversations- both spoken and un- were what kept the stillness coating my bones, relaxing through the strains of my mind. I was able to take on the day with the assurance that the whispers of the grass’s breeze and bits of morning sun stuffed inside my backpack could always ground me. With a subtle gesture, Mama and I stepped down the porch, graceful and light. The gentle notes of shifting grass still billowed through the air. Sun was rising. And so was I.

Filmed/Edited by Alexis Szoke

seaside from lexography on Vimeo.

Happy Birthday Mama!!

Happy birthday to the sweetest, most inspiring, most supportive, crazy mama I am so blessed to have apart of my life! If I could learn to do things with half as much heart and integrity as you've shown, this earth would be a better place. Honestly, the world is a much freer and much more incredible world with having you apart of it. :) The Leslie thumbprints that you leave everywhere you go, glow back with a quality that is so uniquely you, it's amazing to see. Happy 29th celebration of life ;) - you really are someone worth celebrating!! I love you!!! oxox Bitty

free spirit from LOTLEO Films on Vimeo.

Our Love Affair with San Francisco

Alexis and I share a love for the city lights, tall buildings and big city flair. With this video, she does a great job capturing the lively colors and vibrancy of one of our favorite California cities on an evening drive through San Francisco

san fascino from LOTLEO Films on Vimeo.

szőke summer from LOTLEO Films on Vimeo.
Spending a leisurely, nostalgia-inducing summer with my jovial Szőke family. Holidays, birthdays, travel days and pool days illustrate the dog days of this lazy summer. Starring Sutton, Saxton and Staten (brothers) with guest appearances by Steve, Stephani, Alexis, Papa and Grandma, and Sable Szőke (zoh-kee) n. village in Baranya county, Hungary n. unique familia of love and fun

my daughter

Happy Labor Day!!

A Place We Belong

A Story to Be Told

Recently, I had a friend, (who intellectualizes if there is a higher power beyond ourselves), share with me that he felt life is simply like our own personal novels and that we are all randomly playing a role in each others own stories... that's it, nothing more. Always having been open minded to another's beliefs and philosophies; our conversation naturally got me thinking of the possibilities and a newfound appreciation of his views. This being my own thoughts and analogies about the subject. I could see where a good life could be comparable to a good novel both needing the antagonist and protagonist of the story because without these, our stories would have no directed drive. We would likely meander through a series of events without any sense of compelling inevitability. Then, when our story's climax arrives, it would likely be weak, not seen as the culmination and moment of truth so much as simply the end.

Never really changing scenes.

How boring and uneventful would this be???

This being the struggle between the protagonist and antagonist of our own stories representing this inner argument: is it better to leave things the way they are or to try and rearrange them motivated to challenge the status quo? Do we truly write our own stories randomly by free will or is there something greater at work? Maybe a combination of both?

The evolution of self = the struggle with self.

These are perhaps our two most obvious human traits - the drive to alter our environment and the drive to keep things the way they are. Whether compelled by circumstance, our environment or simply by chance, isn't change inevitable? So often we are scared of what it may look like if we attempt to make obvious changes to steer from status quo. Questioning ourselves in our desires to remain stable, secure, inside the box, not straying too far off of our current course, for fear of the unknown. Maybe those closest to us get a little concerned that the "changes" we make may affect their environment or worse, your relationship with them. It is these "characters" that come in and out of our lives, often being the catalysts in the change that lies ahead and do not even realize it. There are times that even the character who seems most aligned with the "Protagonist's" (YOUR) purpose may have a hidden agenda that makes them the perfect choice for Antagonist (THE RETICENCE OF CHANGE). Or, I have found that I might even play such a character as an apparent aid to the effort of change for another, and later reveal how that my own character was actually behind all the troubles encountered for that person, with good intention of course, but the end result?

Change for them.

Life, such an interesting game. I giggle sometimes thinking about how at the end of it our souls are all hanging in the same place high fiving each other for a good game played.

I digress....

Maybe we all do execute a little differently, but really isn't the end result and destination the same? Good and the bad. Lightness and the darkness. Negative and the positive. With no escape, we ALL have these same characteristics to contend with in ourselves and in each other. I believe, the key is remaining neutral to it all, trusting that in the big picture it is what leads us to the next chapters of change, evolution of self and of each other. Expanding us into a better version of ourself than the chapters before. We keep going, reading on, turning page after page curious if the story gets better. I could see how a good life lived could be comparable to a good story told, built on both good memories and even the tragedies of the chapters before; but for some reason, either way, we continue reading on. Hopeful the following pages leaves us with an even better story and good memories of the chapters proceeding until to the end. I say, be thankful for the characters who have shown up so far in the pages of your story. Be kinder to each other, less judgemental. Maybe work a little less on reading so much into another's story and focus a little more on writing your own great classic. Be grateful that good or bad, positive or negative, they have helped create the expanded, unwritten version of your story waiting to unfold.

....and Our Next Journey Awaits

So....we pulled it off...
See you there in a few weeks Bitty...I've missed you

Love of Bay Meets Love of People Watching by Alexis

Sunsets by the Bay Filmed By Alexis

Sweet Lullabys

Since I am not there to serenade you to sleep Bitty, I made this little playlist that will be a good temporary replacement. Thought you'd like the band too....Azure Ray...reminds me of you, sweet. If you look at the tracks there is kind of a theme going there. Sweet dreams my love, see you there

Happy Birthday To the Love of My Life!

HAPPY 15th BIRTHDAY ALEXIS!!!!

Click on the "Happy 15th Birthday Alexis" link above to open your very own online birthday card from a few friends and family :)
 
Although we are apart this birthday (first ever in 15 years!), you know your mama....the antenaes are up, satelites are linking up....I feel you and I am there in every way...just not physically baby.  So give me a big virtual hug and smile knowing I am there, in your heart...you feel it???  I do.

The last few weeks I've had so many of our friends reach out to "check on us" and see how we're doing apart...many wanted to know where you were staying or how they could reach you or send a little gift for your special day.  I am continually amazed at the remarkable love and support in our lives!  Especially times like these.  You are very, very loved by many Lex.  Feel this love, soak it up...it's YOUR day bitty!!  I am so very happy you are sharing it with many of those people today! 

Now, close your eyes....
Make a Wish......You Ready???  
Open them....now keep on believing in that wish... 

and its sure to come true.

I love you!!

Happy Happy Birthday Bitty Bee!!!!

Mama

i can feel it in my bones....

A Legacy-Mom's Chicken and Dumplings

feliz dia das mães from LOTLEO Films on Vimeo.

A Short Story by Alexis Szoke

I just read this Alexis and it brought tears to my eyes.  One small gesture, one simple conversation, and you created such an amazing tale of it all with exact emotion and processing that is so spot on, only I know.  You truly are a talent, not just an author and an amazing story teller, but your ability to see through the surface and go so much deeper, it truly is amazing.  Special.  I love you so much and so excited to see your work evolve.  You are a vessel of healing for many and with this is big responsibility. I believe in you.  You truly are brilliant.  Stay humbled, do your best and as we say, God will do the rest.  I love you.  Mom

 

 

Help. Help! …Help? Is there a difference between being nice to someone and being a help to someone? You see, I’ve contemplated this little word, help, for years. It wasn’t until an average inner city bus ride that I really understood what it was to help.

    “HONK HONK!” goes the streamlining 38 pulling into its stop. A cluster of people pile in, most without seats, even more without homes. We all slightly serge forward as the bus comes to an abrupt halt. I hear the erratic car sirens and cling of bicycle bells as they mold around the bus’s changing speeds. Shuffling around are people making their way through, trying to find a place on the overhead railing for their hand. I try and keep my head down, but I can’t help but glance up when a rotten unidentifiable scent spills through the limited air. This scent is one I could only explain as homeless. Not an uncommon smell, but it sure does command your attention.

As the bus takes off, I scan the now settled area that lies around me, no one person more put off than the next. The pressed business man hiking up his sleeve with one dramatic out stretch of his arm to glance at his watch he just looked at 29 seconds ago. I know it was 29 seconds because that’s exactly the time between sneezes coming from the congested lady sitting shoulder to the man. He seems to hide little tolerance for her discomfort. As I scan the front of the bus, among the grey-scale rainbow of groggy faces and blank stares, I find a man in battered clothes and a scruffy chin. It was him, I knew it. He was like the stink bomb someone threw into the broom closet and then locked the door behind them. Gasping for clean air between my muffled breaths, I am relieved when the bus comes to another halt. I quickly yank one of the windows open as discretely as I can beneath the screeching brakes and off balanced footing. I am discrete because I see the looks people get when they’ve opened the windows in the past. It’s the middle of winter in gusty San Francisco and you are seriously going to open that window? I’m not being courteous, but I don’t care. They have to smell it too.

Before I can return back to my unassuming hunch, I notice a new wave of passenger’s board. The all look as faceless as the rest, lightly grazing the crowd for a place to stand. Just then, the last pick up walks up the steps: an elderly- withering- old lady. I watch many eyes scat hers. Everyone knows you give up your seat for an old lady; everyone knows that. The group I’m among instead takes to their phones and books and shoves them up their noses, slightly more interested than they were five seconds ago. Selfish. I wish I had a seat to give to her. I even thought about excusing the person sitting under me with her side flapped hair and dark black attire. A, that’s rude. And B, from the way she looks, better not. But then I hear a muffle coming from up front. It’s the man I was so shamelessly repulsed by in my head. He pops out of his seat like he sat on a thumbtack and says something with a quiet gesture in the lady’s direction. I watch the lady shrivel into her seat with gratitude on her lips, but as the bus takes a wide turn a gust of chilling wind sweeps through the corridor and the lady stops what she was saying as she brushes her hands against her arms. I close the window. She is why I shouldn’t have opened it in the first place.

    My eyes remain forward until my stop at Powell. I think about what that man did for the old lady. It’s something I would have done myself; I’ve watched many do before me, but maybe it was just the fact that he stood out because no one else was willing to. Or maybe it was because of him. I look at his clothes dressed in stains and discoloration; I recall his putrid smell that overwhelms my nostrils- I can’t imagine his life is full of many daily comforts. Where will he be sleeping tonight? Perhaps a park bench or the inside of a cardboard box? He had a seat on the bus for two seconds and he gave it up just as fast; selflessly. The man in the business suit couldn’t even keep a still face with the lady with a cold sitting next to him. I didn’t have a chance to see what he looked like when the homeless man walked on, but I’m sure it was disgust.

    I walk off the bus and thank the bus driver, as I do every time and to my surprise, the homeless man gets off as well. I continue on my way to get a coffee at the café on the corner. The man stationed himself just off the bus stop where a shopping cart full of trash bags and blankets waits for him. My mind stays set on the bus ride. Past the school of clicking heels and hurried paces, I take my place in line for coffee. There are always lines in the city. Everywhere. This give me more empty time to think. I think about my morning: I wake up and get the paper, wave to our neighbor and go back inside. Once out the door again, I hustle my way up the current of pedestrians to reach the bus stop. While waiting for the light, I catch the eye of a little girl who was eyeing my pink piggy key chain. I smile and rush to the bus, getting on just in time. There are no seats, so I stand. I wished I didn’t have to because I accidently grabbed a pair of shoes that I normally don’t wear because they rub on my heels. I didn’t do anything like what that man did. He seemed to do it without even thinking about it. I rack my brain trying to think if there was anything I did without meaning to. No. If anything, I didn’t do a lot of things without meaning to. There was only one newspaper between my neighbor’s and my house- I didn’t even offer it to him. The pedestrians- I probably pushed a few people out of the way as I attempted to move past them. Inconsiderate. When I got to the light, the little girl was looking at my key chain. I didn’t even smile at her. It was a long light; I could have let her click the button on it that makes oinking noises. She would have liked that. Nothing. Well, I guess I did thank the bus driver….

    No. What that man did was genuinely help that woman. Here I am racking my brain on ways I could just be nice to people. There is a difference between being nice to someone without going out of your way and actually going out of your way to make it easier on someone.

    So that’s what I did. I walked out of the coffee shop with a coffee in my right hand and a water bottle and bagel in my other. As I struggled for the door, a woman kindly opened it for me. She helped me. I walk back down to the bus stop, happy to see the man still stationed by his cart. He was turned away when I walked up behind it and set the water and bagel on top of a pile of blankets. I did not change pace between the actions. I made sure it was stable and would roll off and then kept forward. He doesn’t need to know it was me, but I knew it was me. I wasn’t just being nice and I didn’t want him to think I was. He needed a little help just like that old lady did and just like I did. Just like we all do.

    A bus ride I will never forget. It reminded me how to help.

some favorites :)