Issafinal day! (I hope)
I was just about to begin pre-editing my most recent film "Arid Prairie" when I got the sudden urge to post an entry to my action-blog, in hopes to get back into the habit of writing daily.
Ok - now the setting is right. I'm very particular sometimes. It's a Saturday night - I've got my wine, some Angelo Badalamenti, and the house to myself.
The most notable thing I can really say about today was that it was my final day working at the Mills Music location in Issaquah. (I say this while crossed fingers knock on every conceivable wooden surface I can find.) Just so I didn't get too sentimental or attached to the place, this angry Korean woman came in yelling at me in broken, smashed, shattered English, wanting her non-refundable 3 month minimum refunded on a guitar she kept for a week. I knew it was going to be trouble from the moment she and her son walked in the door last Saturday. She and her son were the first customers through the door, and certainly the most VAGUE we would have all day.
She said she wanted a guitar. "Does this guitar 'look a like a man?'" I thought. Her son (approximately 10 y/o) spoke perfect English and he kept trying to explain things to her, but she didn't listen to him. As I was explaining the terms of the rental to her, I could see her eyes were glazed over with unrecognition, the same way mine got in Japan when I got cocky and thought I could ask for really complicated directions to somewhere, then realized I was way in over my head as the directions were coming at me way too fast from a native speaker, complete with accent and regional dialect. As I was explaining these terms - to confirm my suspicions, I slipped in "you don't understand a word I'm saying, do you? Nod your head if you do." in the same tone and pace as everything else. She just kept staring. Yeah, that's what I thought.
So after she successfully rented the thing she saw the flier about the Redmond sale, went over there today - bought a guitar, and tried to return the rental. She stood there and tried to argue the same points over and over and over - while Austin and I just kept saying, "Mmmhmm, I KNOW but it seems there has been a MISUNDERSTANDING." She tried to get her kids to argue with us in English, but the problem was that they understood what our policy was and agreed with us. Their faces were red with shame. Then she called her husband and had us argue with him on the phone. Inside, I was tearing my hair out - but on the outside I was James Garner as "The Gambler." Total poker face. I realized that my year at Mills had hardened me. She was complaining with all her might and my fort was nowhere near falling. She kept coming and going from the store for some reason in between bouts of yelling at me, so I just kept writing my sit-com on google docs or checking bookface. Then I went to lunch. Apparently, she came in one more time while I was on break and apologized, then left for good. Austin told me she said she was planning to return the guitar she bought from Redmond and just keep renting the one she got from us. Yeah - long story short; I'm done with retail for awhile.
Phil, the cinematographer, stopped by the store today to drop off the rest of the footage. He had to be brief since kids were expecting him at home. He had just wrapped a full day of shooting downtown. I copied the stuff over and saw that there were still files missing, so it looks like we'll have a third footage meet up sometime soon. Of course I couldn't keep myself from watching the new footage the absolute second that it finished transferring. I've always been that way - picking up photos from the lab in the days of my youth. I've nearly been killed several times walking through the parking lot of Target or Lawrence Photo in Springfield, eyes fixed on my precious prints cycling through my hands, completely oblivious to cars and trucks doing their thing in my neglected periphery. Watching my new footage I slowly gestated a wad of anxiety that grew to full term in my chest and leaped out like a infant xenomorph. In the moment out in that Enumclaw field, I was high on filmmaking. So high, in fact that I was ignoring my sense. Yes, we were rushing because of the quickly fading sunlight - but I was not thinking clearly. Willow was so wired up and squirmy from the horse riding that he was smiling constantly, when he was supposed to be portraying a pissed off cowboy. I just should have laid down some ground rules - like no camera spiking. Every shot we have with someone looking at me or the camera is useless. We have cars driving by in the background, ruining every third shot. Every telephone/power line we see in the thing makes me frown. Although it might not seem like it, I'm not complaining. I am just so anxious for the day when I have something resembling a budget so I can get things just right instead of "good enough." But if challenges are what I really need right now, editing this project will be challenge enough. But if I keep staring at my 48 Hour Film Project "Best Editing" (that means in the whole city of Seattle) certificate, maybe it'll inspire me to greatness. I kept having visions of ways to repackage this story in ways to add artistic layers up and off of the crisp, lovely realism that the HD camera and Redrock adapter + lenses provide. I was thinking (am still thinking) of making some kind of buffer reality around the film - shooting more footage of a circus barker like Dr. Tinkerpaw leading the viewer in first person POV into a "Crystal Ball Cinema" tent with a crusty old projector running hot against a white sheet - the observer enters and sees the film, and it is supposed to be as if the film is saying what the viewer can't admit to. Convoluted - yeah, I know. I was thinking of adding all these layers of fluff and surreality the same way I used to distort my singing voice in all my recorded songs from Middle and High School. My skills were not confident enough to stare at themselves in the mirror of high fidelity yet. They still are not.
So yes - that is my true intention for blogging tonight: fear. Fear to begin another project I do not know if I can complete.
Regardless, I need to begin now. Too many people are waiting to see something, and all the momentum that will exist for this project, exists now. Less tomorrow, and even less the day after that. Technical issues have been squashed and conquered - it's time to begin.
Ok - now the setting is right. I'm very particular sometimes. It's a Saturday night - I've got my wine, some Angelo Badalamenti, and the house to myself.
The most notable thing I can really say about today was that it was my final day working at the Mills Music location in Issaquah. (I say this while crossed fingers knock on every conceivable wooden surface I can find.) Just so I didn't get too sentimental or attached to the place, this angry Korean woman came in yelling at me in broken, smashed, shattered English, wanting her non-refundable 3 month minimum refunded on a guitar she kept for a week. I knew it was going to be trouble from the moment she and her son walked in the door last Saturday. She and her son were the first customers through the door, and certainly the most VAGUE we would have all day.
She said she wanted a guitar. "Does this guitar 'look a like a man?'" I thought. Her son (approximately 10 y/o) spoke perfect English and he kept trying to explain things to her, but she didn't listen to him. As I was explaining the terms of the rental to her, I could see her eyes were glazed over with unrecognition, the same way mine got in Japan when I got cocky and thought I could ask for really complicated directions to somewhere, then realized I was way in over my head as the directions were coming at me way too fast from a native speaker, complete with accent and regional dialect. As I was explaining these terms - to confirm my suspicions, I slipped in "you don't understand a word I'm saying, do you? Nod your head if you do." in the same tone and pace as everything else. She just kept staring. Yeah, that's what I thought.
So after she successfully rented the thing she saw the flier about the Redmond sale, went over there today - bought a guitar, and tried to return the rental. She stood there and tried to argue the same points over and over and over - while Austin and I just kept saying, "Mmmhmm, I KNOW but it seems there has been a MISUNDERSTANDING." She tried to get her kids to argue with us in English, but the problem was that they understood what our policy was and agreed with us. Their faces were red with shame. Then she called her husband and had us argue with him on the phone. Inside, I was tearing my hair out - but on the outside I was James Garner as "The Gambler." Total poker face. I realized that my year at Mills had hardened me. She was complaining with all her might and my fort was nowhere near falling. She kept coming and going from the store for some reason in between bouts of yelling at me, so I just kept writing my sit-com on google docs or checking bookface. Then I went to lunch. Apparently, she came in one more time while I was on break and apologized, then left for good. Austin told me she said she was planning to return the guitar she bought from Redmond and just keep renting the one she got from us. Yeah - long story short; I'm done with retail for awhile.
Phil, the cinematographer, stopped by the store today to drop off the rest of the footage. He had to be brief since kids were expecting him at home. He had just wrapped a full day of shooting downtown. I copied the stuff over and saw that there were still files missing, so it looks like we'll have a third footage meet up sometime soon. Of course I couldn't keep myself from watching the new footage the absolute second that it finished transferring. I've always been that way - picking up photos from the lab in the days of my youth. I've nearly been killed several times walking through the parking lot of Target or Lawrence Photo in Springfield, eyes fixed on my precious prints cycling through my hands, completely oblivious to cars and trucks doing their thing in my neglected periphery. Watching my new footage I slowly gestated a wad of anxiety that grew to full term in my chest and leaped out like a infant xenomorph. In the moment out in that Enumclaw field, I was high on filmmaking. So high, in fact that I was ignoring my sense. Yes, we were rushing because of the quickly fading sunlight - but I was not thinking clearly. Willow was so wired up and squirmy from the horse riding that he was smiling constantly, when he was supposed to be portraying a pissed off cowboy. I just should have laid down some ground rules - like no camera spiking. Every shot we have with someone looking at me or the camera is useless. We have cars driving by in the background, ruining every third shot. Every telephone/power line we see in the thing makes me frown. Although it might not seem like it, I'm not complaining. I am just so anxious for the day when I have something resembling a budget so I can get things just right instead of "good enough." But if challenges are what I really need right now, editing this project will be challenge enough. But if I keep staring at my 48 Hour Film Project "Best Editing" (that means in the whole city of Seattle) certificate, maybe it'll inspire me to greatness. I kept having visions of ways to repackage this story in ways to add artistic layers up and off of the crisp, lovely realism that the HD camera and Redrock adapter + lenses provide. I was thinking (am still thinking) of making some kind of buffer reality around the film - shooting more footage of a circus barker like Dr. Tinkerpaw leading the viewer in first person POV into a "Crystal Ball Cinema" tent with a crusty old projector running hot against a white sheet - the observer enters and sees the film, and it is supposed to be as if the film is saying what the viewer can't admit to. Convoluted - yeah, I know. I was thinking of adding all these layers of fluff and surreality the same way I used to distort my singing voice in all my recorded songs from Middle and High School. My skills were not confident enough to stare at themselves in the mirror of high fidelity yet. They still are not.
So yes - that is my true intention for blogging tonight: fear. Fear to begin another project I do not know if I can complete.
Regardless, I need to begin now. Too many people are waiting to see something, and all the momentum that will exist for this project, exists now. Less tomorrow, and even less the day after that. Technical issues have been squashed and conquered - it's time to begin.