Why Come?

Adam Fuss, Untitled, image from pinhole camera

We survived the wedding. We survived the in-town guests. Hell, we even survived the 70's. But let's get down to brass tacks here: the film is done! No wait, it's not really done! I may cut it down to an hour. I may cut it down to 75 minutes. But technically it's reached the length it's supposed to be and that time is 86:40.

I still have to work with the composer, which means I have to let go of my temp track, which is a lot harder than I ever imagined. How do I let go? One song at a time I suppose. But I am sure the composer is sick of me saying, can you make it sound a little more like this? Something akin to giving line readings to an actor I imagine.

There are still a few more shots I need to, well, shoot. And then there's that spot about 50 minutes in where time seems to stand still, and that's not in a good way. Plus, there's the fact that we still don't have a title. OK! Not so done! But feeling done-ish. And ready to let the editor go.

The good news is that I am finding ways to squeeze in smaller moments that I really missed, but couldn't place anywhere. Like when one schoolgirl talking to another says: puberty, I don't know whats that anyways and later, when that same schoolgirl talks about her boyfriend, explains, almost wistfully: we give each other pencils. I have fallen in love with the action in the background, the things no one would ever catch upon first viewing, and I find myself spontaneously repeating the film's lines throughout the day: c'mon all you lazy children! polyester...100% and that is so a lie! We find ways to amuse ourselves. We find ways to let go. We find ways to ignore the following question:

How will we define ourselves when this is all done?

Away from Home

Jona Frank, Siobahn, Girl Scout, CA

A packed bag! An airplane trip! A family wedding to attend with my parents! OK, scratch the exclamation point on that last one. While I am happy to get out of town for the weekend, and happier still to be typing this up at my long lost friend's house while she breast feeds the baby, I do have to admit that I am not looking forward to another family wedding. Another family wedding where the bride and groom are at least a decade younger than me, another family wedding where I have to attend stag whether it's because I'm single...or well, because in the eyes of my family not being married means technically I am still single. And another family wedding where, in lieu of attending with a date, a partner, or hell even alone, I am tagging along with my parents. On the up side, at least I know that means I will be leaving early.

In other news, I have big plans for this short weekend in the city of my birth. There are palm trees to stand beneath, traffic to sit in, and star sightings to miss–and I'm not talking about those to be found in the ursa minor. Wish me luck! I'll have my screenplay in hand and a sharpened pencil for my free personality test.

A coupla three things to say here

Christine Wong, Green Present, 2007
balsa wood and paper

I haven't written anything here because I have been obsessed with finishing the film. OBSESSED. Assessing the howmuchmorevulnerablecanIfeel feedback, setting a date to ohmygawd lock picture, taking Ihatethispart publicity stills. I simply have no more room for creative thought in my brain. And obviously nothing to write about here. Yeah, I could tell you about the pain, the suffering, the long list of minutia one has to attend to, the difficulty in trying to replace the scratch music you love with the actual music made by the composer you hire. Let alone the absolute trauma that sets in when I actually have to watch my own film. It's not that I don't like it, or that I think others won't either, it's just getting to be too much to bear. Six years my friends! I am ready to move on, know what I mean?

What I do have energy for is cooking, for organizing the wee apartment we all share, and for walking the dog. There's apricot ice-cream. There's finally getting around to watching the last Soprano's episode. And there's a night of spontaneous in-town guests and accordion playing. But, I'm not getting out much these days. And that's OK. I've hardly noticed it's summer, if it weren't for all the available fruit at the grocery store.

On the horizon. Hopefully, a trip. Optimistically speaking, a job. And one day, a larger apartment to share.