a wasted weekend.
i filmed for 20 minutes today, for one (possibly two, but most likely one) of the five haikus. this being due to halloween coming up and me having to worry about where i will live and engagements at the sam and at crow. and a series of unfortunate events which led to my friend and actor being unable to help me out today. rightfully so. painfully ironic that she injured her pelvis when the shoot was to be full of fertile imagery. luckily pati is almost as eager as tempeste to be on camera. so it was not entirely futile.
the idea was this.
she rips open a pomegranate
gingerly removing the seeds.
her hands are old.
spur of the moment haiku! it describes it much better than i could have otherwise. interesting.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
birthday party, katharine brush, 1946
They were a couple in their late thirties, and they looked unmistakably married. They sat on the banquette opposite us in a little narrow restaurant, having dinner. The man had a round, self-satisfied face, with glasses on it; the woman was fadingly pretty, in a big hat. There was nothing conspicuous about them, nothing particularly noticeable, until the end of their meal, when it suddenly became obvious that this was an Occasion—in fact, the husband’s birthday, and the wife had planned a little surprise for him.
It arrived, in the form of a small but glossy birthday cake, with one pink candle burning in the center. The headwaiter brought it in and placed it before the husband, and meanwhile the violin-and-piano orchestra played” Happy Birthday to You” and the wife beamed with shy pride over her little surprise, and such few people as there were in the restaurant tried to help out with a pattering of applause. It became clear at once that help was needed, because the husband was not pleased. Instead he was hotly embarrassed, and indignant as his wife for embarrassing him.
You looked at him and you saw this and you thought, “Oh, now, don’t be like that!” But he was like that, and as soon as the little cake had been deposited on the table, and the orchestra had finished the birthday piece, and the general attention had shifted from the man and the woman, I saw him say something to her under his breath—some punishing thing, quick and curt and unkind. I couldn’t bear to look at the woman then, so I stared at my plate and waited for quite a long time. Not long enough, though. She was still crying when I finally glanced over there again. Crying quietly and heartbrokenly and hopelessly,
It arrived, in the form of a small but glossy birthday cake, with one pink candle burning in the center. The headwaiter brought it in and placed it before the husband, and meanwhile the violin-and-piano orchestra played” Happy Birthday to You” and the wife beamed with shy pride over her little surprise, and such few people as there were in the restaurant tried to help out with a pattering of applause. It became clear at once that help was needed, because the husband was not pleased. Instead he was hotly embarrassed, and indignant as his wife for embarrassing him.
You looked at him and you saw this and you thought, “Oh, now, don’t be like that!” But he was like that, and as soon as the little cake had been deposited on the table, and the orchestra had finished the birthday piece, and the general attention had shifted from the man and the woman, I saw him say something to her under his breath—some punishing thing, quick and curt and unkind. I couldn’t bear to look at the woman then, so I stared at my plate and waited for quite a long time. Not long enough, though. She was still crying when I finally glanced over there again. Crying quietly and heartbrokenly and hopelessly,
richard brautigan poems i like
I (it's time to train yourself)
It's time to train yourself
to sleep alone again
and it's so fucking hard.
II (appearing in your own face)
There are days when that is the last place
in the world where you want to be but you
have to be there, like a movie, because it
features you.
III (we are in a kitchen)
We are in a kitchen
in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Some bacon is frying.
It smells like a character
that you like in a good movie.
A beautiful girl is watching
the bacon.
IV (memoirs of jesse james)
I remember all those thousands of hours
that I spent in grade school watching the clock,
waiting for recess or lunch or to go home.
Waiting: for anything but school.
My teachers could easily have ridden with Jesse James
for all the time they stole from me.
V (the sister cities of los alamos, new mexico, and hiroshima, japan)
It was snowing hard when we drove
into Los Alamos. There was a clinical feeling
to the town as if every man, woman and child
were a doctor. We shopped at the Safeway
and got a bag of groceries. A toddler
looked like a brain surgeon. He carefully
watched us shop at the exact place where he would
make his first incision.
VI (feasting and drinking went on far into the night)
Feasting and drinking went on far into the night
but in the end we went home alone to console ourselves
which seems to be what so many things are all about
like the branches of a tree just after the wind
stops blowing.
VII (restuarant)
Fragile, fading 37,
she wears her wedding ring like a trance
and stares straight down at an empty coffee cup
as if she were looking into the mouth of a dead bird.
Dinner is over. Her husband has gone to the toilet.
He will be back soon and then it will be her turn
to go to the toilet.
VIII (as the bruises fade, the lightning aches)
As the bruises fade, the lightning aches.
Last week, making love, you bit me.
Now the blue and dark have gone
and yellow bruises grow toward pale daffodils,
then paler to become until my body
is all my own and what that ever got me.
It's time to train yourself
to sleep alone again
and it's so fucking hard.
II (appearing in your own face)
There are days when that is the last place
in the world where you want to be but you
have to be there, like a movie, because it
features you.
III (we are in a kitchen)
We are in a kitchen
in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Some bacon is frying.
It smells like a character
that you like in a good movie.
A beautiful girl is watching
the bacon.
IV (memoirs of jesse james)
I remember all those thousands of hours
that I spent in grade school watching the clock,
waiting for recess or lunch or to go home.
Waiting: for anything but school.
My teachers could easily have ridden with Jesse James
for all the time they stole from me.
V (the sister cities of los alamos, new mexico, and hiroshima, japan)
It was snowing hard when we drove
into Los Alamos. There was a clinical feeling
to the town as if every man, woman and child
were a doctor. We shopped at the Safeway
and got a bag of groceries. A toddler
looked like a brain surgeon. He carefully
watched us shop at the exact place where he would
make his first incision.
VI (feasting and drinking went on far into the night)
Feasting and drinking went on far into the night
but in the end we went home alone to console ourselves
which seems to be what so many things are all about
like the branches of a tree just after the wind
stops blowing.
VII (restuarant)
Fragile, fading 37,
she wears her wedding ring like a trance
and stares straight down at an empty coffee cup
as if she were looking into the mouth of a dead bird.
Dinner is over. Her husband has gone to the toilet.
He will be back soon and then it will be her turn
to go to the toilet.
VIII (as the bruises fade, the lightning aches)
As the bruises fade, the lightning aches.
Last week, making love, you bit me.
Now the blue and dark have gone
and yellow bruises grow toward pale daffodils,
then paler to become until my body
is all my own and what that ever got me.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
anxious
i want to get started but i don't necessarily want to create the arc. it will impossible to do this in-camera without that basic step.
in my mind's eye, it already exists. can it exist in a reality where it must be experienced remotely?
in my mind's eye, it already exists. can it exist in a reality where it must be experienced remotely?
Monday, October 8, 2007
retrospect(-acular!)(-tations)(-acle)
I know I still haven't called or spoken most of you, and for that I am sorry. I've been back for nearly a month, and I am in a weird head space where I am not sure how I feel about being home, but the events of this past summer seem long past and entirely surreal at the same time. I keep thinking of Tunisia especially and the whole ordeal in general (I'm in a Spanish medieval literature class where we look at some Arabic translations, and I keep correcting my teacher on some word meanings...) and am saddened by the unnecessary stresses of day to day life here that no matter what I do, I can't seem to get away from. And I am damn tired of talking about my trip to people (which is why I haven't returned your calls, Granny).
Here, in a few short scenes, are my experiences since Sept. 17th:
After a few hours of panic as to how exactly I would make it from airport to the next, I spent the night in Heathrow on a metal chair by the automatic door, freezing and uncomfortable.
The first few nights I was back, I woke up at strange hours completely startled to be where I was and in such darkness. On one such occasion, I thought Loki was a rabid Tunisian dog, come to lick my face into disease ridden oblivion.
I desperately wanted to call someone a gazelle.
I started coaching cross country the first day I was back, with the worst headache imaginable. Since then, I've been running a bit more. Today we had 400's.
This blog will be dedicated to DXarts in the very near future.
sayonara. ciao. adios. au revoir.
Here, in a few short scenes, are my experiences since Sept. 17th:
After a few hours of panic as to how exactly I would make it from airport to the next, I spent the night in Heathrow on a metal chair by the automatic door, freezing and uncomfortable.
The first few nights I was back, I woke up at strange hours completely startled to be where I was and in such darkness. On one such occasion, I thought Loki was a rabid Tunisian dog, come to lick my face into disease ridden oblivion.
I desperately wanted to call someone a gazelle.
I started coaching cross country the first day I was back, with the worst headache imaginable. Since then, I've been running a bit more. Today we had 400's.
This blog will be dedicated to DXarts in the very near future.
sayonara. ciao. adios. au revoir.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)