Sunday, January 31, 2010

Undisciplined Slob

For the past two days he had subjected his life to the same cycle; go to sleep late at night, in some cases arguably the next morning, and wake up mid afternoon the next day, spending most of it unproductively reading comics, listening to music and playing games. It was, after all, the weekend. He knew that he should be working, either reading the books given to him by his brother on how to make wise financial decisions or working on one of four scripts he started but never finished, but it was the weekend and he didn't feel like it. Once again, his laziness was getting the best of him. He hoped, however, that a streak of discipline would find its way to him and he would be able to regiment himself into making something worthwhile. Time would tell if he would be successful in turning himself from a slob to something productive. The tools were there, he just needed to pick them up again.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

New Beginnings

He futilely connected his phone to his computer, searching for a way to back up the pictures and other miscellaneous things that had accumulated on the device over the past 7 months. He had the thing for just over half a year and already it had crapped out; the screen constantly refusing to work for him. This last time he finally managed to once again get the screen to function, meaning he could actually see what he was doing. He searched through the menu options in vain, hoping he could find just some way to drop everything onto his computer, but no option presented itself and so he finally resigned to deleting everything off of his phone before returning it to the manufacturer.

As he watched the little arrow graphic spin, giving a visual representation the phone going to work deleting what evidence it contained of the past 7 months of his life, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of apprehension.

At last the purging was complete and the phone laid empty in his hands. The history stored as 1's and 0's within the device's silicone brain transformed to a landscape of 0's as though the past 7 months never happened. He felt something indistinct, a feeling he had hoped for at the beginning of it all. There was a new beginning, truly this time, and he felt ready for it.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Drawings! Yay!

So I've finally scanned in a few more drawings I've done way too long ago to actually count for anything. I should really pick this all up again because I haven't drawn in forever and I really suck now, haha. It's difficult because I've been drawing noting but blanks in both my mind and on paper as to anything creative. The old creative muscle has atrophied a bit too much, time to dust it off and get it back on a rigorous exercise plan. It's use it or lose it and losing it this early in the game would be nothing but a shame.

As always, feedback is welcome.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Recent Happenings

After reading a good friend's recent blog post half of which is about current events, I have come to once again face the rather embarrassing truth of just how unaware I am of the world going on around me. Current events has always and probably will always be the area in which I know the least about. (Especially the section on celebrities, that will probably be close to 0 on my "how much I know about this subject" meter, which is sad considering the industry I'm trying to break into, but I digress.)

It's always been hard for me to pay attention to the world at large when there's just so much going on around in the microcosm called my own life, which isn't to say I'm excessively self involved, at least I hope that isn't to say that I'm excessively self involved, but there's there's just so much going around me in regards to my own life as well as the lives of my friends; whom are within 1 degree of separation, never mind the lives of people I'll never meet. (That isn't to say I don't care about them, but I care significantly less about them than I do about my friends, or, in fact, myself.)

This all leads me to a wonderful note I actually wanted to get to about myself; I started working at USA Studios again yesterday, but this time instead of QC-ing masters and dubs I'm going through work orders and making sure the orders were filled completely before being shipped out. It's not the most desirable job in the world, but work is work and the hours fit into my schedule, even if it, once again, cuts into my socializing. Also, the people there can be pretty fun so it's not bad. I guess I just have to, once again, get used to the environment as well as the hours, though this time they're not nearly as long, which is good because I'm not as sleep deprived.

More later, this week has been/will be busy.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Old, Crusty and not in a Festival

On Saturday I turned 23, a rather terrifying fact considering that I was still unemployed and rather directionless, a state I hoped to be out of two months ago. I digress, however, because I was on set all last week helping my good friend Matthew Troy finally make his senior film Frequent Flyers, which, even though was mostly exteriors in the middle of January in the cold state of Connecticut, it was a rather painless shoot and quite fun actually. (We were kept warm with an unending supply of hand warmers and a heater we affectionately called "the jet engine.") I found myself once again doing sound, which is fine, but also got to scrub in and pretend to be a doctor as an extra for a scene or two. I made sure to get pictures so I could show my mom what I would look like if I followed through on my childhood ambition to become a doctor, though I suppose being one as background in a movie will be just about as close as I'll get to actually being one, but that's ok.

On another note, I got my first festival rejection on Friday. At least I think it's a rejection, here's what it says below:

Dear filmmaker,

Thank you for submitting your film for consideration in Documentary Fortnight 2010 at The Museum of Modern Art. While we receive too many submissions to critically comment upon each directly, we can only assure you that the work has been viewed and seriously considered by the Documentary Fortnight selection committee. Please understand that there are many things we need to consider when choosing a work, such as theme, available time slots, etc, and that this does not indicate a critique of the work. Once again we would like to thank you for your submission and to wish you well with this and future projects.

We appreciate your interest and support and hope that you will continue submitting films for our consideration.

With best regards,

The Documentary Fortnight team.

It essentially says no in every way except saying "no" but it's still kinda unclear but I'm still gonna assume that that's a rejection unless I hear otherwise.

It's entertaining because when I first read it I showed it to my friend Elliot, who was the Gaffer on Frequent Flyers, and it went a little something like this:


Matt sits on his cot looking at his iPod, Elliot, 22, sits next to him on his cot as Kelly, 22, gets under her covers on her cot, located on the other side of Matt.

(passing his iPod to Elliot)
Does this look like a rejection to you?

Oh god,

(in a fake high-pitched voice)
Dear Moira...

For a festival! Not a girl, a festival!

I think that's about all for now.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Heads Up - Next Week

Hey all... 0 of you who follow this blog. This coming week I will be in Connecticut working on my good friend Matthew Troy's senior film (finally, he gets to shoot it) so I'll post if I can, but don't count on anything. I know, terrible tragedy.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

The Final Battle pt. 4 - The End

He stood on the outskirts of the stronghold, waiting, his echoing call to battle unanswered. He was uncertain if this meant victory or defeat, but he knew for certain that it meant an end.

The Final Battle pt. 3 - The Written Challenge

He ran the options through his head again, still unsure of which was better. Originally he thought a vocal challenge would be best; a loud audible challenge to the specter, one that would ensure he was heard and would also leave a memorable impact, however, throughout the course of the night the benevolent tree spirits that inhabited the woods just outside the specter's stronghold spoke with the hero, advising him of the best way to issue the challenge as well as how to navigate the confrontation afterward.

They suggested a challenge written and sent to the ghost and if that was unresponsive, then a more vocal approach would be appropriate. The plan seemed sound, but something in the back of the hero's mind still wanted to issue the vocal challenge first but he conceded, the tree spirits had not led him astray before and they had much more experience than him in these matters so he wrote out his challenge and tied it to the leg of his trusted hawk.

The shard of courage dimmed for a moment as he went to open the bird's cage, but just as quickly returned to it's brilliant luminance, as though ashamed of its previous weakness. It was the right time to send the challenge. He flung open the doors of the cage, clearing the way for the hawk to deliver it's message.

The hawk did not move from it's perch, it just sat there staring back at the hero, it seemed unwilling, or unable, to fly. The spoken challenge had to be tried.

Monday, January 4, 2010

The Final Battle pt.2: The Longest Second

*A note before I start my post: HAPPY 100th POST!

He stood before the reanimated specter's stronghold, the last shard of courage, his only remaining weapon, glowing brightly in his hand. This shard was a particularly boisterous shard, humming with a power and force unexpected of a fragment so small. However, through the vibrations of power, our hero felt its impatience, its call to hurry onward.

See, before the final battle could be fought a challenge had to be issued, and that, possibly, was one of the most daunting aspects of this battle. The specter could only be battled if the hero offered a challenge and the specter accepted. From the hero's point of view, there was no reason for the specter to accept any sort of challenge, and if that were to happen the battle would be over before it had even begun. For there to be a chance of a battle even occurring the challenge had to be issued at the correct time in the correct manner and then maybe, just maybe the hero had a chance.

However, choosing the correct time to issue the challenge meant that the hero had to, once again, wait; a fact that he, nor his shard of courage, particularly enjoyed. 2 and 1/2 months of waiting should have made the last few days seem like minutes at most, yet as time grew closer to the fated confrontation, seconds grew into hours and minutes grew into days. Taking this time to make some extra preparations would be most prudent, he decided. However, even after he completed what preparations he could, all there was for him to do was to sit and wait. Even if just for a little while longer he would sit and wait, what else could he do?

Friday, January 1, 2010

The Final Battle pt.1 - The Specter's Corporial Return

The long final month had finally passed. In total, that made 2, 2 months since he decided that a confrontation, upon its return to a physical form, would be best in dealing with the specter, it had been 7 and 1/2 months since he had seen his ghost in a physical form, but it was to happen again soon, he hoped.

He no longer felt prepared. Upon hearing of its return to his realm all the training and preparation he had undergone had vanished; he was reduced to a quivering mass curled in fetal position under his covers. Pain; he felt pain from the anxiety alone, a stinging sensation in his chest as his heart beat in excess, delivering drugs to every part of his body, drugs that would act solely to rob him of his sleep.

Weaponless and powerless he stood, moments away from confrontation. He knew not what to do; the enemy was greater and far more powerful than him. He seemed without hope, lost and helpless in the dark, he wanted to give up and run away. His mind screamed for more time, his body screamed for more training but his heart, it screamed a scream that silenced them all; it screamed that they press on, through the darkness and war surrounding him he would press on as planned. Reaching down he grabbed the last fragment of courage to light his path. It shined dimly, showing but a foot in front of him, but it was enough, he could move forward as planned. Soon he would be able to tell if he had been successful.