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
Stop
Go
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Stop
Go
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Go
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Stop
Go
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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

Do the Hustle

Oh the shore, how I love the calming ebb and flow of the sea's whispers and secrets from the deep that have come to the shimmering surface. Strange how my vacation from Facebook and my constant hustle for jobs and places to live while working a full time job and not sleeping has made other things become as clear as a new underwater natural spring bounding from the murky muddy brackish bottom. Yes my friends and foe alike I have decided to stick it out in this crazy crazy crazy mixed up city, after all I have given so much to this place that it owes me a lot sooner or later, hopefully sooner, and it is the longest running dysfunctional relationship I am still in so I miles well let it run its course so to speak. Listening to Hall & Oates and Bob Seger lately for some unknown reason. I will be successful at any rate hopefully the rate will pick up a bit. Worse case, I suppose I could get paid to dance to "Private Eyes" in front of elderly men.

Modus Operandi

Hey there folks, I am just recovering from a lethal cold sinus monstrosity so I apologize for the small lapse of time that has taken it's place among the time space portal of molecular reality. I recently attended a screening of the new but old exploitation style film "Modus Operandi" created by a new director on the scene with a name that fits his scrupulous raunch-esque vision of hallucinatory plot variation, lots of babelicious action, and gore that looks like a fun house sexual hilarious candyland ride through a violent techno rainbow; Mister Frankie Latina. I have to admit that I didn't expect a whole lot, being more of a fan of the original grindhouse films and only half enjoying the other remakes. Just looking for a good time late at night that was still safe and objectifying, and I was delighted to view the grand orgy of objectification up on the screen rather than in my own personal objective social reality. Kudos to Sasha Grey(who I have always loved anyway) for presenting the film so it can get more exposure.

Four years in the making and filmed on Super 8, the film is comical but the way it is shot and edited lives up to the filmmakers degree of attention to deal and overall coolness that seeps through every "scene" or vignette that displays the characters like a sadistic colorful lollipop that I want to lick over and over again until my tongue fills rough and my sweet pleasure is full-filled. Although this film exudes 70's era style, I feel that it is also experimental and original in the way that Frankie designs the places and dialog, as well as an entirely original soundtrack that is amazing and most of the songs sound as if they have been hits for the last few decades. All filmmakers mimic to a certain degree whether they think they do or not, but it is the way in which you put your own magical collage of stylistic energy into what you create that makes you stand out among the never ending ebb and flow that takes place behind the theatrical cinematic creation. I thought that the Super 8 portrayed this film perfectly, and I am ecstatic knowing that in an age of over stimulated fancy HD, and high tech equipment, there is still a very real need for film and Super 8 film at that. Some people ask me what experimental or Avant-garde film means and I have a very clear answer in the depths of my mind but some how I can never clearly convey it out loud. There are others who want to know if it is the way the film is created technically or as an object, or if it is the subjective aspects within the film. It can be both or one or the other, which is a very open ended answer, but I think that we are actually entering a very good era for experimental art house filmmakers because I believe that the high rate in which technology is advancing gives artists either more tools in which to magical penetrate the dense dreams inside their being than ever before and at the same time it is also a good reason to use the old tools such as Super 8, 16mm and VHS because it stands on it's own more now then it ever did before and there is one thing us experimental filmmakers are good at and it is standing on our own.

Goodbye Social Network- Hello World

For the few souls who read this blog, I have recently committed Facebook suicide. I have been known to do this before for only a day or so, this time it is for an extended period of time, I never say forever, or maybe I never say never, who knows. Might not be able to put into words why I must release Facebook from my life at this juncture, but it must be done. My life needs sorting and I also feel a strange weightless departure from the "grand" social network. You want to reach me, pick up a phone or send me an e-mail or even a carrier pigeon and if your really hard up, you can check this blog from time to time, which I will be using more often now to update my fantastical adventures in the city and my cinematic rantings.

Be back real soon, and if you have any paid film work, please pass it on, because I would like to be doing something like that considering I went to school for that, but for now I will make coffee and smiles...

FEEL AT HOME WITHOUT A HOUSE WITH YOU

Engine down, growing grass inside and beneath the east wind.
Down on the plain, into the depths of the sea.

There is a love that cannot be brought to it's knees.
A love that is unconditional, but always open like a wound in the cloudless part of a cloud filled sky.

Relinquish
Part
Release
Back
Pull

Touches that shiver in the dark
Fingertips inside your heart
Things are fading beneath a sky of black satin and silver dust...

Where do we go from here?
Back to the beginning beginning beginning beginning beginning

I do my job, take my breaks, feel the dark touch me in ways I never thought possible
Been abused, lied to, broken, fallen and taken apart.
Paved my way myself, created depth and won awards

Disguise your verses when you dive into something that moves you to the core or someone that you feel so connected to

Why do I have to feel so different around you
My heart beats faster and I feel so high above
Surface tension bleeds through the air

I breathe in deep deep deep

Wish things could be different , but I respect the way they are

Friends

Gettin' down wit Edgar and then some...

Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart): "I came to Casablanca for the waters."
Capt. Renault (Claude Rains): "But we’re in the middle of the desert."
Rick: "I was misinformed."


Welcome back to the perpetual ever changing seashore. Sorry for the lapse of time, I was out to sea for a wee bit, but it is high tide I get my bearings for y'all now. My compass is a bit confused but it all points to the North star anyhow right? Gather around folks for another story on the shore, and please enjoy the view (triptych of me at Anthology Film Archives), sooo brick, am I right? I recently attended a double screening of two Edgar G. Ulmer films by myself. It was nice though, and I chatted with an interesting man who wanted to be an architect but decided to wing it in NYC instead of going to College and enjoyed a coffee and donuts from a "coffee spot down the street". Back to the films though; I am a big fan of Mister Edgar although I have only seen a few of his films so far. The first film of the night entitled "The Naked Dawn" is technically considered his masterpiece. It was an astounding work of technicolor art and included Edgar's unique lyrical dialog preformed by an interesting melodic cast of characters that while realistic and witty, still contained a magic within that is missing from the 'real' world, and also a great song sung by a lovely lady (a trademark of Edgar). A great sub-textual humility that is learned and re-learned as the film approaches it's climax. I don't want to ruin it for those of you who haven't seen it, but it is a much cherished gem and it is worth a viewing as soon as you possibly can. As amazing as "The Naked Dawn" was and is technically, the next film "Detour" still holds a special place in my heart and it is not just my favorite Ulmer film, but also stands as one of my top ten favorite films of all time. This film has touched me in ways that I don't have words for. I own it and have seen it at least 6 times but never on the big screen so this was a treat indeed. It is one of those films that gets better every time you see it, it seems to glow more like a shadow that has seen the light so many times that it has turned into a bright enigmatic star lighting a dark road. The writing is phenomenal preformed by the perfect but unlikely duo Savage and Robinson. Errol Morris said that it was one of his favorite films, stating "It has an unparalleled quality of despair, totally unrelieved by hope."

This shot is one of my favorites in the film, the great creative power that comes with good low budget cinema, it is also the second flashback to the amazing song "I can't believe that you're in love with me". To me this film is a love letter to those of you who are talented but in poverty, keep sailing because fate always comes in waves. Or as Roberts says in the film, "That's life. Whichever way you turn, Fate sticks out a foot to trip you."

Other highlights from my recent meanderings include doing freelance for Bravo network which involved getting a free lunch at Peter Luger's Steakhouse, kind of overrated but it was still nice, (I much prefer small quaint places where the food is as good or better and cheaper with more character). Also received my first Birthday present, a comprehensive book on Film Noir, halfway through it and loving it, great timing too. Before I depart for a dip in the ocean; yes I did attend the Brian Jonestown Massacre concert and yes it was much more amazing then expected, however my good friend Sam Marine who is spending her days and maybe nights as well at the bottom of the ocean wrote a great entry about it, so I am off the hook so the fish would say, please check out this link and the pictures that moi took: http://sammarine.blogspot.com/

Trash Humpin', Reality TV and Video Art...Oh My

So hi y'all, it has been a purty eventful week I have to say. To re-cap, I filmed an Off-Broadway show by a wonderful man from London and went out dancing with him and his friends, and when he sent me my check, he also included a picture of me dancing that I didn't know he snapped, pretty great. Working on his DVD now. Then I took a top secret test (don't worry nothing shameful or bad), and after I was famished and craving a falafel which in turn brought me to Mamoun's for the first time, 2.50 falafel and a place to sit down, can't beat that with a stick. I wandered around the west village for a bit and then I decided to go see the infamous "Trash Humpers" alone nonetheless. I have always been fairly judgmental about Harmony's work and truth be told I don't really like it but I still enjoy watching it if that makes any sense. This movie didn't stray too far from how I usually view his work, however I did have a really good time and it was far more humorous than I expected. The combination of snapping self-portraits of myself on the downstairs bench with onlookers, my pineapple that I snuck in from Whole Foods and a packed theatre with an audience that seemed to all have a collective sense of humor for the film, the actuality of the externally superfluous experience during the film surpassed what the film itself lacked. It was obvious that Harmony must have had a blast making this film and that also made it worth while, but it also got me to thinking that once you get an "in" so to say with other films you have made, that in turn gives you some leeway to kind of make something just for the Hell of it and still get it into theatres. If you have a certain type of sense of humor and you are familiar with Harmony's work than I suggest you see it by some means, might be a good movie for a party atmosphere. One last note about the movie; it also reminded me of my friend Joey's work, but not as mature and sophisticated. Joey should definitely make a feature because it would fix a lot of the problems that this film had. It would be more creative technically, and it would be more disturbing with a subliminal humor that would shine through the cracks to create a aesthetically prosthetic balance between the elements coexisting in the film, looking forward to his feature.

In other news I worked on a reality TV pilot for VH1 thanks to my friend Sarah. It was an interesting group of people and best off all I got to drive a pimped out new Chevy Tahoe all day, while picking up a great camera man and blastin' Def Leppard on the LIE. Last but not at all least folks, I went to the Video Art. Net festival at Tribeca, it was interesting if anything and had a strange panel of speakers after. One of the speakers was an old professor who kept randomly talking about how he just got back from a writing commune where he wrote 12 hours a day, and said that he thought festivals were stupid, yet we were all at one, and later said that he just came from one at Anthology. I wonder how many Quaalude's this guy pops and I wonder if he wrote 12 hours straight a day or took breaks...hmmm.

To bring this ship into the dock I will end by saying I went to Lombardi's pizza for the first time and learned about the history of pizza which was very tasty interesting information, in addition to this highly enjoyable experience I was also told how to properly fold my pizza for consumption, something that I apparently did not know how to do because when told to do it, I begun to fold it the wrong way. Love to learn new things, keepem' comin'...this was your captain Shelly Sarah speakin', please enjoy the rest of your ride, it may be a bumpy one.

Untitled Drop Down - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ->>>>

Filing infected files
Trials, illusion, denial
compromising surmise
sultry demise
Dead Ends
Friends
Control
Stop
Drop
Roll
Soul
Into darkness out of Light
Differences are the same
Game
Fame to claim
Drain self
Proclaim wealth
Hide
Changing tide
Free talk
Lock together

That's Life

So yeah, apparently this song really applies right now...



That's life, that's what all the people say.
You're riding high in April,
Shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune,
When I'm back on top, back on top in June.

I said that's life, and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks,
Stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down,
'Cause this fine ol' world it keeps spinning around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself, flat on my face,
I pick myself up and get back in the race.

That's life
I tell ya, I can't deny it,
I thought of quitting baby,
But my heart just ain't gonna buy it.
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try,
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate,
A poet, a pawn and a king.
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing:
Each time I find myself laying flat on my face,
I just pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life
That's life and I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cutting out
But my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothing shakin' come this here july
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball and die
My, My

Icon Nightlight

A spontaneous lurid journey into the heart of allegorical pop art, envisioning a past, present and future that will irrevocably never make much sense. Where are we going? To the sea kind sir, to the sea...For those of you who couldn't be there in person, feast on this...

What is the color of Life?

So this picture is an actual picture I took of an apartment we were looking at, yes an actual real life depiction of the "fun" of apartment hunting. It is also a metaphorical representation of the state in which my life is in right now. Last time I checked I decided to change the color paint on the walls in my head. What color shall it be this time Shells? Hmmm...how about a nice mauve or something with a Home Depot paint name like "island beach wave" or "Kentucky Derby horse brown", still debating, let y'all know when the swatches come in.

Where are we all headed? I suppose the weather is getting warmer again and the kids painted a nice mural down the street.

Slaughter and Shuffling

So yesterday morning as I was drinking my damn fine coffee I was watching THE DARK KNIGHT again. Highly recommend watching the joker in the morning by the way, opens up your whole perspective for the day. There are probably a million of y'all who saw this a while ago, but it wasn't until that morning that I noticed what was written on the side of the truck that the joker is in. Maybe insignificant to some, I enjoyed it immensely. As a lot of you know, I have the awe of a two year old.

In other news I had a nice long walk around different variations in the "borough", finally started working on a portfolio that I have had planned for a while, very exciting to have a viable working camera at my disposal now. Hung out with fly Miz Lopez in da hood and had a great 2am train journey back. The subway at 2am can be an amusing place if you are in the right state of mind. So many drunk or sketchy people or drunk sketchy people. My ride was a mixture of greatness from the "perfect ipod shuffle", which I will touch back on and fear from the creepy guy with the suit and giant umbrella following me for a while, sitting near me and staring at me for the whole ride. Back to the "perfect shuffle", so a long time ago before I had an ipod (a few months ago) I was against the shuffle setting, thinking pretentiously that it tainted the way in which you should listen to music. Gradually I started coming around and now I have come to terms with it on many levels. I have a shuffle philosophy that I am sure some of you can relate to. There are mainly three types of shuffles:

1) The shuffle that is mediocre and after a few songs is mainly used for the purpose of hitting that one song that makes you realize what you should be listening to, and you switch to that album.
2) The shuffle that is pretty damn horrible and makes you wonder whether you should even be listening to an ipod and not reading a book.
3) Then last but not least there is what I call "the perfect shuffle", this consists of an ingenious mix of songs that just make 'sense' to you at that moment. Some songs are similar and some are polar opposites but you never feel the need to skip any and it is as if the ipod is implanted in your brain sensing songs that your not even aware of needing to hear. There are also the moments during "the perfect shuffle" in which you are thinking of a particular song in your head as the last song is ending and that exact song comes on next, a magical moment in the context of the 2am train ride to OZ

Thanks for reading my psycho babble, stay tuned for more rantings by the sea...

Lost Library Shoes and SILENT LIGHT

So howdy, y'all got your wish. Miz Shelly Sarah has a blog now, throwing my thoughts into the ether so beware. It is a glorious 85 degrees outside in my village and the library is about to close its doors for the day. Couldn't sleep because I have insomnia or I just go to bed late and wake up early, however you want to look at it, anyhoo I was waking from my beauty sleep this morning and popped my latest library rental into the DVD player. A little film with a big beautiful heart called SILENT LIGHT. I was literally blown away, out of the water, socks blown off, heart a flutter at the beauty and truthful everlasting spirit within this magical picture. I am going to leave y'all with that for the time being because I must be parting soon, but don't fear because there is no sorrow in this parting, only sweet. Will be back folks with a longer detailed full of frivolous adjectives explanation about SILENT LIGHT.

Another lighter story for your reading pleasure(my pleasure is my business or is it my business is my pleasure?). During my stay in the library this afternoon, the lovely lady sitting across from me lost her shoe. I know what your thinking, how does one lose a shoe? She was on the premises since the beginning of the day and claims she never left the desk. Her shoes were under the desk, not on her feet that is. Around when I arrived she started looking for something and eventually asked me if I had seen a shoe. If she didn't move how did her shoe disappear and only one at that? The mystery has been on since I got here, then a man who I later found out was cop sat next to me with his laptop and we were all looking for her shoe. Later me and the cop were lightly joking about putting out a missing shoe report and putting a detective on it, no worries she had a good sense of humor about it. Then the cop put the whole library staff on the hunt for the shoe but no luck. I felt so helpless, I wish I could have done something, but now the library is closing. At least she got a hold of someone to bring her another pair of shoes that just walked in. Oh where did the shoe go, please be on the look out for a black slip on woman's shoe with a black bow, it might need food and shelter.