˙˙˙ǝƃuɐɹʇs ʇıq ɐ ƃuıןǝǝɟ

Going to be in Richmond tomorrow night and Sunday. Going to be running around the rest of break, trying to catch up with everyone.

You know... I'm not looking forward to going home to find a house without my cat, with my old room turned into a storage closet, and with most of my friends all off in other places.

I'm really glad I made it a point to enjoy coming home last year, because I'm not sure I ever will again. Seeing my family is nice at least, but it's just not... where I belong anymore.

The weird thing is, I haven't really found a replacement for "home" yet. Only temporary cozy nooks of space that change just as I start to get used to them. Young adulthood is so strange...

Photo Theory class is getting me geeked out about film stocks. This has posed a problem with speaking to normal, non cinematography, people.

You see, I want to go into excrutiating detail about how excited I am to have access to Kodak's Vision 3 film stock at the cage, (EXPOSURE LATITUDE!!!sd;lfj MOTHERFUCKING HIGHLIGHT DETAIL, BAYBE!) but I think then I will have finally reached the point of being boring to everyone but cinematography students.


*Speaking of The (In)Famous Red camera... I have to tell you, the shoot last week was pretty ridiculous with it. The thing overheated every other take, lost data. (I walked back to set after getting some craft service, and the entire place was silent, everyone's heads bowed, motionless. We had apparently lost three perfect takes due to camera error. It was like someone had died...) It was terrible. The camera department was freaking out the entire shoot. It was more this particular camera, something with hardware that shouldn't have been there, but I've heard that there's usually at least one overheating issue a shoot with these things.

Quality image vs. Pain in the ass. You decide.

I hope we still have a movie after all that...

MOVING TO NOWHERE.
BE BACK NEVER.
SEE YOU SOMETIME IF I FEEL LIKE IT.


The world is strange, overwhelming and unfriendly. I'm going to crochet myself a fortress and never come out.

"Acid is like looking at the world through a Red camera, when we're normally seeing the world through a Bolex. Everything is just fucking beautiful."

Oh fuck, I've retreated way too far into the film cave for comfort, now.


I've been waking up at seven, working fourteen hours, getting home late to wake up seven hours later to do it all over again.

But, I"m getting PAID to do this. I'm getting PAID to work like a dog and hang out with good people and talk about movies all day.

I love gripping. I love production. It's my kind of crazy. Everything is wonderful.

Sorting through Craigslist ad responses takes up an inordinate amount of time. I've been sitting here for about five hours. I feel like I've gotten nothing done.

AH GOD collaborative arts are frustrating in so so so many ways.

Pretty much sums up my general mood as of late. Or maybe just tonight.


Need sleep. All is better after sleep.

It's Greek to me.

Εἶναι γιὰ μένα κινέζικα

雞腸


Foreign idioms. Better than sex.



( Shto? )

So, last night during Cam Sem heard something interesting.

During the Bush administration, no one was allowed to photograph any of the coffins coming back to the United States from Afghanistan or Iraq. (I think this was in his second term. I remember distinctly seeing coffins on the news when the war began.)

I heard that a little bit ago this ban was lifted. Obama went to a ceremony to meet the dead, and photographers were allowed to come in and photograph them for the first time in years. This is kind of big. One of the reasons why public outrage became such a force in the 1960's was the advent of television. Bring the war into the living room, see what's happening to the boys over there. God, no one actually wants to KNOW what war is like.

I'm looking for more examples of media censorship. I know they exist, we had a long, long conversation about it in Culture, Race and Media last spring. When making animations you're not supposed to place a photograph of a gun anywhere near a politician's head. There was some silly one where you supposedly weren't allowed to show a mirrored image of Bush on the news...

The only thing is, I don't know who makes these rules. Yes the administration in power, but how are they enforced? What is the penalty for violating them? Questions to answer.

Columbia's faculty page is refusing to load right now. I'm serious enough that I think I'm going to go to the head of the television department claiming to be a Documentary/Journalism (Documalism?) student in search of some information.

I don't know what I'll do with such information. Right now, to avoid commitment, I'll just say curiosity. But who knows?

--

I need to get out from behind this computer screen. But I'm in producing mode, unfortunately. Film going up in two weeks = much stress on eyes. Hundreds of emails. I can't even believe how much work this is for such a short film...

The other day I saw some people on the street, holding posters with Obama with a Hitler mustache.

I was all excited, (though also nervous) because I thought they might be some real indie political activists who had found something terrible in the system, and were trying to right a wrong.

Then I realized, a few days later and after some research, that they were working for LaRouche, which completely ruined their credibility for me.

Doesn't anyone whistle blow politicians without a political agenda anymore*?



*Other than that Jackass, Alex Jones. Whom I hate more than I can express

If you don't believe me, here it is:
http://www.larouchepac.com/health

Luckily my hair was still tinted blue from the previous night, because the only thing better than boozed up Shakespearianites is the Chicago Gay Club scene followed by the Chicago Burning Man crowd.

I took the picture of about three different David Bowies, then went on to get body painted and watched some fantastic fire spinning art magic to the music of my adolescence.

Holy fuck was it amazing. SHIT SHIT SHTT I WISH YOU DETROIT PEOPLE WERE HERE! YOU GUYS WOULD LOVE THIS SHIT!!!


And I've apparently got free tattoos for life if I manage to organize a film festival for this old-arted-out Church venue. So, Naturally, The Inferno Film Festival shall be born, and I will return to Michigan with sleeves. Hells yes.

Let me tell you, get a bunch of moshing Shakespearean enthusiasts into a room and throw in some booze and Ren-Fair magic with a dash of Rocky Horror, and you've got a party. I think I was beat up by Oscar Wilde. And my hair is now tinted blue in places. Seriously. It was a weird night.


I love Halloween. Best holiday ever.

So, I have officially had to memorize and regurgitate seven different versions of color theory in my academic career. Mom, Preschool, Physics, Printing, Lighting, Image Design, and Photo theory. Each one has had at least one difference that separates it from the rest, the exceptions being Lighting and Physics, which coincide.

Seeing as I learned lighting from a grizzly old DP, and Physics from a grizzly old Physicist, I take this as proof of what I have always suspected:


The experiences of old, grizzly men and Science are the only things you can depend on.

( Speaking of colors... )

I am trying to convince myself that there is no harm in laying around the day before a shoot. It helps with the panic that is sure to come in the next twenty-four hours.


Not working. I can't believe we've had a shoot every week for the past month and a half. I feel drained. I don't have another creative thought in me. Social stamina? HA! I wish.

"The Tiananmen Square protests of 1989, referred to in most of the Western world as the Tiananmen Square massacre and in the People's Republic of China (PRC) as the June Fourth Incident (officially to avoid confusion with two prior Tiananmen Square protests)...."


I wonder what our "incidents" are referred to as in the rest of the world....

"Remember I told you a way to remember the word 'problema' is masculine? Think about it. Who causes all the problems in the world. The males. There you go..."
-A

I love my Spanish teacher. Not necessarily because I agree with her all the time, but I love people who infuse strong political agendas (especially involving sexism) into completely unrelated subjects. She's so cute and firey. I love chatting with her.


*I remember Phil telling me he knew an amazing girl who spelled the word "woman" with a "y" because she didn't think women had anything to do with men, and thought the word that describes them should reflect that. I love feminists. I think I may adopt this.

This entire entry is going to have it's grammar revamped when I'm not late for class.

I love sick days.

I have officially caught up on everything I needed to do this week, (other than some unfortunate projects I needed to shoot), saved HUGE on my food budget because I've been too sick to eat, and finished watching the entire first season of Dexter, which I've wanted to do, but never could quite justify spending the time.

Perfect forced day off.

1) Get successful freelance writing carreer going.
2) Pay off student loans.
3) Invest in trapeze lessons.
4) Join circus.

Why the fuck would a landlord take his sweet-ass fucking time installing a god damn fucking furnace when the house that he owns is in the windy fucking city?!?!;lwekfj FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKING ASS HOLE.

"You are getting yourself, in dark waters. I hope you find the light form the lighthouse. May you find a lifesaver to save yourself."


Thank you random creepy stranger! I feel so much better knowing that you know what's best for me. <3

http://www.omniglot.com/language/idioms/index.php

I love idioms in other languages!!!

(PSST! PATRICIA! They even have one for Esperanto!!!)

And, yes. My entire day, when I'm not going anywhere, is spent in the library looking up things in other languages.


I think I am in the wrong major.