1/4 of 3/4 of a w-hole

Time is unwinding. Crack the veins, open the hole. Stop and join everything and nothing. Avoid large buildings unless they collapse.
Endless
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Guys speak of classical tragedies and crazy inquiries. Dance like the night is an eternal force of relentless movement. Naked drum like sounds. Painful steps of insecurity. Infinite lights. Tired thoughts growing.


Fish swim and people swim and tread through life's obstacles. beach, sun, water, and life.

Time passing, aquamarine existence creating a constant sense of pressure.

People talking in a cafe. Phones, voices, conversations trailing through the air waves.

Time is around the corner. Converting time into waves.

Business cards, coffee and cigarettes.

Two people are distant, yet the smell of the rain leaves a scent of their secret closeness in the air.



Reflections of night club windows. Lost distances and wandering of mystical painful energies combined with spinning and projection responses. Blue, yellow, orange and trance like glances. Light flare conducting contradictions that don't matter. Blood, time, and famous causes acting as one graceful unit of productivity. Candle light
Restfulness
and sleepless
nights.


People are relative to each other, but moving in a certain direction. Coloring everything with vanishing points of perspective. A small rabbit is discussing the situation and the moon is drifting like an illusion in the sky.

Talking backwards about princesses and princes that might be fake.


Light and dark forces battling on a unpredictable set of conflicting events. People are moving in different directions and chasing opposing identities. Atmosphere is composing itself.

Five colors fight for a way back to a monotone light.

The Present is the new Futures Past

Life being like the ocean, murky and unclear at times until we swim to another spot in perhaps another part of the world and things become clear with the light of the sun shining through the glassy surface that is always close at hand but yet so far away. Where has 2011 gone and better yet where did it begin? A year filled with strange weather, crazy end of the world theorists and of course the 99 percent still prevailing in a world that can't stop piling on what the cows prepare for us after a quick bathroom trip in the far reaching field. College might be a distant thought now but the loans are still around to remind us that our past does not end when we say it does.

Some say that 2012 marks the end of the Mayan calender which may result in catastrophic events, others say that it will be the beginning of a positive reformation for humanity and earth. I say that those of us living in New York City know that we have dealt with much worse and much better on a typical day in the city that never sleeps. Why do you think there is a song called "In a New York Minute", because a minute in New York is like a life time in any other part of the world. Maybe that is why so many people move here so that they are able to experience life as a proverbial cat, experiencing nine lives instead of one. The lights move outside, crawling into a black velvet distance holding an unreachable grasp into the future making things new and constantly changing.

Over the past year me and my friends have experienced a whirlwind of love, heartbreak, misunderstandings, financial distress, job searches, and a constant need to find a place that we can call home. Whether it be a literal place to rest our head or a place in someones heart that is able to understand who we really are and not duck for cover. Some times I hate the city and I feel like my breath is being held at a distance from me like a carrot dangling in front of a horse. It is not easy to live here but the challenge is part of what keeps me here because one of my biggest fears is to know that I did not try my hardest to live an interesting and ever changing life that is a constant journey to live up to my full potential by experiencing love, knowledge, desire and fear on every New York street corner because no corner is ever the same. There is always an undiscovered nook in the city even though the island is so small, which proves that the next time you turn around you might meet your future head on, and in New York we don't freeze or run in the face of change, we greet it with a pensive smile and a cappuccino.

The Dream Life of Pigeons

Well it looks like I have been woken up at 6am by the good ole human alarm clock, better known as the dream or in this case the nightmare. Long story short, and I mean long and vividly perceptively painful and perplexing; I had a dream that I was on a above ground subway train that was on a college campus, the train was filled with people my age and there was a dangerous storm brewing outside. I looked out the window and saw a train that started derailing off the tracks and falling into the frozen river below, I just kept thinking that it couldn't be the train I was on until all of a sudden I felt my car falling and my heart dropped into my stomach. When it fell into the water, for some reason it started floating and didn't sink, but we were all trapped in this expansive body of water and couldn't get to land even though it looked so close. All of a sudden a bunch of us were outside of the train and in the water but not wet and two giant egg shaped pods floated over to us. Everyone looked scared and they were all telling my ex-boyfriend not to open them. When the pods opened, inside sat a giant Christmas dwarf that had frozen to death and it's eyes were still open with a dead stare. My ex told me that it was crucial that I climb in so that we could all get through this, so I obeyed reluctantly. As I sat there feeling lost and cold, the dwarf started talking to me to calm me down which made me feel better, but then he told me I had to get off at another section of the train that was still floating in the water. As I entered the new terrain I started feeling scared again and saw my ex from far away helping other people, eventually he made his way over to me, I felt the temperature drop the closer he got to me. I kept nervously shifting around a lot wondering why the wind had suddenly stopped and the train wasn't sinking. Although I felt I had been given another chance at life, I still felt an impending doom approaching. All of a sudden I grabbed my ex and started hugging him hanging on for dear life, he started to let go and looked into my eyes like he was about to cry and told me everything was going to by OK, but that he had to go help other people. I didn't believe him even though I told him I understood, however I felt better for a short period of time.

Two co-workers appeared that were friends with my ex and they were also married. I saw them calmly holding hands and complacently staring at what was going on around them, they smiled at me as if nothing was happening. I glanced up at the sky and noticed layer upon layer of dark clouds quickly multiplying. I started telling people they had to go back in the train car or they were probably going to get struck by lightening or something else. At first they wouldn't listen until they saw the sky. We all started piling back into the train car, I was feeling nervous again so I gave my ex another hug and told him that I didn't know what to do, he told me to sit down and calm down as he sat across from me. Everything got dark and quiet and there were flashes of light; I looked over at him and told him "I told you so", but he just smiled at me. The wind started to pick up again and water started to pour into the subway car, for some reason we couldn't get out because of the pressure and it felt like something was pressing on the car. We looked at the adjacent train car and noticed that there was no water in it so we started banging on the doors and windows, but the people in the car didn't lift a finger to help us, they just kept staring blankly at us as if they had resigned themselves to something and lost all hope. We finally managed to pry open the door only to realize that the ceiling was coming down on them about to crush them all to death. For some reason we all thought that was worse then drowning so we stayed in our car that was quickly being over taken by large amounts of water. Some people started saying that we were trapped under a giant iceberg and that we should try and sit tight long enough for it to pass on. I made a joke about the film TITANIC to lighten the mood but it wasn't helpful and no one even heard it. A few guys got out of the car some how but then we saw them disintegrate behind the glass and we some how knew that they had died. Things started happening faster and faster, I was scared and confused, I looked over at my ex for comfort and understanding but he slowly started to disappear like a broken hologram flickering and fading out. I looked away for a second and when I looked back he had disappeared all together. The water had finally filled the car and we all started going under, I couldn't breathe, I realized I was drowning and I had no control over it, my chest felt like it was going to explode...I woke up thinking it was real and actually gasping for air.

Dreams are said to be born from entities that are living within the bottomless pit of your subconscious, but really where in the f*#k did this come from. I spent yesterday (Labor Day) with two friends gallivanting around Greenpoint drinking milkshakes, playing Frisbee, searching for crossword puzzles, and watching an old horror film about an adult baby. Right before we went to play Frisbee we found a hurt pigeon that was dragging on the ground and couldn't get up so we did everything we could to try and help it, but it dragged itself under a car and in the end we were unsuccessful. We all felt the weight of the sad helpless bird on our shoulders, knowing that it would probably die and there was nothing that any of us could do about it. Before I knew it I was in the park playing Frisbee and having fun so I must have managed to quickly shove it far back into the dark stacks in the library of my mind. This lost and lonely thought of a helpless creature approaching an untimely death might have manifested some unknown seed of fear and regret that branched out into a tree standing amidst a barren dream-scape as I slept. Naaah that can't be it, I think it was probably the chocolate cake I ate while watching a Michael Haneke film right before I fell asleep.

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MISTER OR MISS PIGEON

"Girl Stories" A trilogy by filmmaker aka joey

So here we are in the middle of a snowy cold isolated existence between a winter wonderland and a coma of exhausted possibilities for 2011. The future is so bright I have to wear shades, or maybe it is so dark I need lots of flashlights to break their beams through a current of blackness. During an age of overstimulated reality drama, mainstream re-makes and over budget extremism comes a filmmaker with a perceptive wit and a talent for bringing our inner demons out to dine with each other over a cup of tea on a sunny afternoon while being able to laugh at why people have repressed us for so long. Aka joey has created a trilogy about three fictional young women who are experiencing an array of what 'society' has deemed as psychological disorders that are damaging to themselves and others around them.

The first film MISSING GREEN explores a missing college student that we learn has disappeared on account of her own clinical depression; visually erected through the use of multiple formats including the use of PIXELVISION, a vintage kids toy camera from 1987. The use of different recording devices is an intelligent way in which to convey the story of a literal and metaphorical disappearance of a young girl who has deteriorated from society and from herself, therefore the pixels that make up the images begin to also deteriorate into a facsimile of a fictional facial factorial flashback recognition. The ghost like atmosphere with an underlying humor that is so subtle that one must pull it out from a cold unforeseen depth of the comedy that goes along with the experience of being human is what makes MISSING GREEN a good way to begin the trilogy, as if we are entering this world of dark psychological humor through a portal of another dimension where our spirits go to be reborn into an unnatural state, a state which the filmmaker is guiding us through. Charles Dickens said it best "An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself."

NICE PEOPLE is the middle "child" in the trilogy, as it should be; containing disturbing content about a dancer who is suffering from an extreme body image disorder (Dysmorphic) that is attributed to the extreme pressure to be perfect that her parents have consistently drilled into her from a young age. As a second film it conveys a dysfunction that a smaller percent of the audience can presumably relate to, but a film that is structured as more of a secret diary interpretation that is perceptively seen from different points of view within the narrative itself adds to the building of depth within the story. The comedy in the piece is so well executed with obvious hints that defy the reality of the situation, but in some cases people will see pass it entirely and enter a world of darkness that they are unable to return from. This does not mean that they are perceiving it "wrong", it just proves that the film has multiple layers like an onion; you peel back the layers and some times your eyes tear up... our mind plays tricks on us and tricks play with our mind.

HOMEWRECKA is a triumphant third film that encompasses disappearing, violence, depression, and crisis of identity. On the surface this film portrays a man that is being mentally and physically abused by his girlfriend who is a dangerously delusional psychologically impaired individual who is still trying to figure herself out. Although it is about a woman and narrated by a woman, it seems to be subliminally told from the male perspective; it is interesting because normally the film is told by a neutral unidentifiable entity. This film holds a personal power that the other films lack, making the comedy more apparent but in a way that shines through to illuminate it's beautiful misanthropic self-deprecating nature. Showing weapons such as Nerf guns that are also a product invented in the 80's when the "after school special" was very prominent. In the 90's the Nerf slogan was "It's Nerf or nothin!" A product that is used for violence but created to not be physically harmful to the victim. This film functions on a level that the audience can easily relate to because most of us have experienced some form of verbal or physical violence in our lives through relationships that has changed us in some way. The experiences and connections that we have with other people is what shapes us and it can either make us stronger, less trusting, less vulnerable, and more aware of our surroundings or it can beat us down figuratively and literally making us unable to function as society expects us to. The narration is by one narrator with a British accent which makes it sound like a PBS documentary or a story told on the court TV. HOMEWRECKA does not use as many flashy experimental devices as the filmmaker's previous films, which worked well for those films, but in this case the minimal use of visual technology brought the film back down to an earthly place, a place that contains more of a solid substance rather than a ghostly image. We have arrived from the spirit world like an Angel that is falling, then we pass through the middle "the point equally distant from the outer limits" and arrive back on solid moist dirty ground which is HOMEWRECKA. It is a departure, using one narrator without distorting the sound, including a typewriter that directly connects the creator to the creation which in a strange way makes me think that the filmmaker is not so detached from this piece which in turn brings the audience closer to the film itself. A story narrated in a straight linear direction told like a doctor analyzing a patient, but instead of using a tape recorder they use images in conjunction with well articulated words that rhythmically flow into each other like the wave of emotion that wash over us from the power of a beautiful poem.

For more info about aka joey please check out these links:

Website:

http://www.janepublic.com/pages/main.html

Blog:

http://janepublic.blogspot.com/

Techno TRON ic

Today I walked out of my Building and was approached by the Super who thought he had a package for me, but he had mistaken me for someone else. Then he asked me where I lived and said "Oh so you live with her, you are her latest victim, I won't even get started about that." I nodded and laughed awkwardly and said "Happy Holidays", not even sure why I said that. I started to walk away and he stopped me again to say "Oh and tell your roommate that the man below you died last night." End Scene. That is how my day started today, so it can only get better from there right? Riiight? Guess it adds to all the other fun things in my life, like the men who like to phone stalk me even when months go by in between.

Highlights have been getting paid to get film for Jem before his trip and helping him shoot the last of the Super 8 Kodachrome in Chinatown, helping out College Humor, viewing 'Black Swan' with the expressions on Jeff's face and 'Girlstories' night at Millennium, and getting food with Paul and Caleb, which is always an interesting experience. Future insights include getting a much better full time job that has something to do with images of some kind that move on a screen or they can be still as a stone resting on a deserted dirt road leading to a life of distant drum beats beyond the horizon of the human spirit.

Future endeavors 'might' include a secret video self portrait of moi, chance encounters with people that I actually want to run into, organizing my room, listening to Duchess Says and James Taylor back to back, going to IFC at midnight to see Purple Rain and maybe the movie too, molesting Lauren at her X-mas party, eating Nutella on a croissant(oh already did that last night, oops) working on the feature script with Sam...that's right Sam, checking myself without wrecking myself and watching the sequel to Tron(Daft Punk soundtrack, YES!)...

See y'all where the moon rises and the sun sets beyond the horizon and down by the shore. Wash the waves over your soulful pliable existence. Wooooooooosh

Missing Hats

Please forgive me y'all, I know it has been a great while since we last gathered around the shore for another tale. My home now lies near the waters of the great Brooklyn shore, so the view has become a refreshed experience of sorts, a great bridge above a river of overflowing gratitude with a slight sense of danger under an autumn sunset. The neighborhood is a lovely escape from the high paced Manhattan life, although if I was a Muppet I suppose I would live in Manhattan for free. My regular hang out now is a Hawaiian Coffee Shop with the best coffee since the last time I never went to Hawaii. This brings me to a small story about the hat anomaly. Normally I try to do the right thing but sometimes you have to mix it up, especially when times are rough and time is receding beneath a surface of unclaimed hats. A good friend of mine actually has a knack for finding lost hats and I always thought, "When is it my turn"? I also always thought that when the time came that I would chicken out and try to find the owner or turn it in to someone who will probably just dispose of it or keep it. Today was my day though and the opportunity hit me like a ton of bricks or beagles or banjos (besides who decided it had to be bricks, there are a lot of heavy odd objective things that can hit you and be a representative metaphorical object that is hurtling through the air at your empty ready to be filled basket of missing opportunities) Behold under my table was a Sherlock Holmes looking hat made by an elite company at that. Maybe I should have said something, I sat there holding it for what seemed like an eternity of 10 seconds and looked around for a minute to see if anyone noticed, but everyone was in there own state of conscious thought processes. Finally I said screw it and shoved it in my bag. Hats are something that I never have because I am very picky about them and then one I find one I can afford that I like I seem to instantly lose it right away, so I figured that this is pay back for all the hats I have lost. Then after having a slight attack of conscious, I decided that I am a big Sherlock Holmes fan and he would probably want someone responsible to hold onto his hat for him. I also determined that if he really needed it back, he shouldn't have any problem tracking it down because after all he is Sherlock Holmes. Then maybe we will meet and he will give me a job as his assistant.

I know my stories tend to examine the small instances in life that happen in between the larger more 'significant' ones, but I find it more important to be able to appreciate the small things because every moment has something secret and alluring, a sort of constant slow motion perception of a reality that people tend to take for granted. Take time to transgress and become excited about the perfect speed that the wind is traveling in.

Hall and Oates - Private Eyes