Monday, April 25, 2011

So, i haven't been successful in posting video's... I'm starting to think it has something to do with my internet connection. Here it goes again.

Film 112. September 2007. Sharon Swenson. I sit on the third to front row on the right side of the room. I'm excited and anxious for instruction. The process is vicious. Her hybolical words always throw me, yet I can't help taking notes on inner thoughts recently sparked by her lecture. A master teacher. Excited for the first time all day to feel a sense of limitlessness, the way I always feel when the universe opens up and all that's there is me -- art, ideas, truth. She presents to us the idea that what makes film interesting... what really makes people connect with it... transcendence, meaning, escape... has nothing to do with the picture quality or color, tone, look, camera movement (although those things CAN contribute to it's meaning)... when it all comes down to it, unless the subject is interesting, the artform is completely useless. She then proceeds to show us a clip of OK GO, you know the one: treadmills. The camera sits on a tripod the whole 3:05 minutes long: cinematic suicide. (in hollywood terms... not french.) All we care about, as viewers, is how creative their routine is. They walk, they ski, they swim across the screen as the camera silently and obediently stands still. The little tingles, (I'm not sure if everybody got those little tingles) you get when you see something brilliant... yah, I got them. 

Now, this clip comes nothing remotely near to that one when discussing creativity, but to me, it opens up a passageway to limitlessness in the same way. The camera sits dormant. The picture is grainy and dark and badly lit. But still, for me it's magic.  It occurs to me every time I watch this how loved I am... and how much I can love. When I watch this I see friendship -- years and years of communicating with someone through notes and chords... a chorus filled with joy, support, and admiration. It's real laughter. It's real bonding. It's real. Sometimes it's just nice to remember that true art is deeper then steady movements and flashy colors... it's rooted deep inside of us and expressed in the simplest of ways. And often, quite often I think, art isn't meant to be art... it's just the only means we can think of to express something... and then voila! ... art appears.

as granny's do

My granny just tried to convince me to do something based off of research done in the 60's. I almost thought about mentioning that it's 2011. Almost.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


Wake up. It's sunny... of course it is. Which means I'll struggle all day long with an inability to come to terms with the fact that I can't go surfing becasue I have other "more important" things to do. I just had a dream that Hayden Christensen was my boyfriend. I have no clue where that came from. So many things I have to do, and no energy. It's one of those days when I have to convince myself to brush my teeth. 

Get dressed. Nail a board to a window that the rats are getting in through. Oh yah, brush teeth. Go to high school (NOT for myself)... shoot a time lapse for high school project. Eat. Help write a ten page paper for a  high school senior project. 

Two things are clear. 

1. I have high school friends. 
2. They're using me.

Needless to say, I went through the whole day not completely present. It's what Alicia and I have termed Glazey. No... I don't know how to spell that.

Sunday, February 6, 2011


Talimai- she's 3 or 4. She likes to draw and smiles when you draw something clever for her. She likes being listened to... and will grab your face and make you watch her lips up close if she thinks you missed what she said. Apparently she thinks that that'll help you hear her better. She compliments my earrings, and always notices when I have a new pair... her favorite are the elephants.

Nanea - also 3 or 4, likes to bounce. Especially when there's a camera around, but this doesn't help. She loves dressing up and putting on make-up. She plays pretend really well, and wants to be in charge of the imaginary world. She's extremely observant, even if you think she's not paying attention. The other day I tossed some water out the door while the screen door was closed. She thought that was clever, and I caught her filling up a cup and doing the same time a little later. Bad Idea on my part, she filled her cup up with water and toilet paper. yup.

In twenty years I'll show them this post.