"I Wanna Love Ya"
i still don't have an idea for my final narrative. this is a gigantic production in which we have less than two weeks and which most people in the class are already beginning (or at least scheduled to) shoot this weekend and i don't even have storyboards.
i disliked the way doug edited the photos for our documentary, but he chose excellent sound clips. it bothers me that i can't get my hands on the edited version that he's started in order to finne tune it, which it desperately needs. i mean it's possible but that means walking all the way to third north dorm and then that usually ends in me spending more time with jordan than working with doug. overall though, it's a relief that the documentary turned out so well after everything we did together without the help of our nonexistent crew members. doug is a strange man who lies a lot but i think he's coming around and opening up to me, although sometimes when we talk and he's telling something personal, he stops right in the middle and says 'why the hell am i telling you this?' and to me it's perfectly logical. because we're becoming friends.
boys are weird.
i talk needlessly about the above agenda because it's on my mind, but utterly trivial to anyone else who reads it. other college students/majors read text books and study theories and writer papers. their work is more clearly defined. they don't have to worry about coming up with a phenomenal story pitch that the teacher will probably tear apart. they don't have to worry about the grain of their negatives or the fact that they didn't check out a lighting kit in time and now when they photograph their subject it's going to be low light and that means pushing the film which means poor chance of good quality photos.
i write papers but they're about films and about works of art and unifying theories and ideas revolving around art. i pull all nighters editing films. i spend my weekends doing shoots with actors and a tripod and a lot of stress. i spend three hours in class discussing films and learning terms and comparing the influence of filmmakers and movements.
i'm not trivializing anybody else's work by any means. i could never do what my pre-med major neighbor does. well i probably could but it would be a struggle. college isn't easy. but sometimes, i see their work and i just get jealous. for me, studying psychology (my gen ed.) is so much easier than spending a night storyboarding. i suppose this is because i have been academically inclinded all my life. i never really struggled much in school, for me it was simple and satisfying: studying remembering the material very well and being able to apply logic and text book knowledge to anything, pulling mostly A's. albeit, i think the work i do now is more interesting. but not simple. nothing is ever simple anymore.
i hate the food in the dining hall. everything has excess oil trans fat nothing is ever organic or nutritional. the only thing pure is a salad and when im nauseated and dizzy and haven't eaten all day, i don't exactly feel like a salad. so i can choose between hydrogenated fried potatoes and fatty, charred chicken or some beef stew slop or a cheeseburger. awesome.
no wonder i'm ten pounds heavier and fighting to maintain even the weight i am now. i think about a double chin a lot and i panic. it never ends.
i see this homeless lady in the park and she makes me really sad. last night i was walking home at about ten thirty or eleven, so greatful that my dorm was in sight, soon to be out of the cold and to have a nice bed and warmth awaiting me, and i almost didn't even notice her curled up on the rock hard bench. everytime i see a homeless person i wince a little bit inside. i remember the first time i visited NYU senior year... my dad and i were walking down Broadway to see the TISCH building for the first time, and we passed this homeless man just slouched over against a building, and his dick was hanging out i just felt so ashamed and sorry for him... don't think i'll ever forget that image. for some reason as i was observing the lady on the bench last night, a foreign voice from a conversation i have had with many people popped into my head saying 'it's their own fault'. i have to say, i really disagree with this. it may be that they are a junkie or some such, or they had a job but lost it or something, but how fucking arrogant is it for some middle class kid (referencing the voice in my head, one of many who all say the same thing) who's never had to sleep on the street or to pay rent or anything else in their life to think they know the person's story, to assume that all 'bums' are the same that they are crazy and they just need to 'get a fucking job'. you don't know them, you don't know what they've been through. stop judging and have a heart. even worse is all the people who become numb to it. they see it so much they just walk by and don't think anything of it. i hope i never become like that. it's like racism or any other problem present. people become so accostomed to something that they begin to ignore it.
often i think about psychology and the hierarchy of needs. the idea is kind of intimidating- that we would never really think much of higher ideals or sensitivity or culture if we didn't have food or shelter. that's just the way it works. kind of reminds me of Ten Things I Hate About You when the english teacher is ridiculing Kat and her protestations and frivolous campaigns for issues like 'better lunch meat' in the cafeteria. if that makes any sense. sometimes i just feel like a liberal bitch, you know?
and speaking of liberal, i was fascinated to find out this weekend that my parents are in fact political independents at heart. they despise the democratic and republican parties almost equally, finding serious flaws with both.
i love witnessing new tricks from old dogs. people are infinitely surprising if you let them.
i disliked the way doug edited the photos for our documentary, but he chose excellent sound clips. it bothers me that i can't get my hands on the edited version that he's started in order to finne tune it, which it desperately needs. i mean it's possible but that means walking all the way to third north dorm and then that usually ends in me spending more time with jordan than working with doug. overall though, it's a relief that the documentary turned out so well after everything we did together without the help of our nonexistent crew members. doug is a strange man who lies a lot but i think he's coming around and opening up to me, although sometimes when we talk and he's telling something personal, he stops right in the middle and says 'why the hell am i telling you this?' and to me it's perfectly logical. because we're becoming friends.
boys are weird.
i talk needlessly about the above agenda because it's on my mind, but utterly trivial to anyone else who reads it. other college students/majors read text books and study theories and writer papers. their work is more clearly defined. they don't have to worry about coming up with a phenomenal story pitch that the teacher will probably tear apart. they don't have to worry about the grain of their negatives or the fact that they didn't check out a lighting kit in time and now when they photograph their subject it's going to be low light and that means pushing the film which means poor chance of good quality photos.
i write papers but they're about films and about works of art and unifying theories and ideas revolving around art. i pull all nighters editing films. i spend my weekends doing shoots with actors and a tripod and a lot of stress. i spend three hours in class discussing films and learning terms and comparing the influence of filmmakers and movements.
i'm not trivializing anybody else's work by any means. i could never do what my pre-med major neighbor does. well i probably could but it would be a struggle. college isn't easy. but sometimes, i see their work and i just get jealous. for me, studying psychology (my gen ed.) is so much easier than spending a night storyboarding. i suppose this is because i have been academically inclinded all my life. i never really struggled much in school, for me it was simple and satisfying: studying remembering the material very well and being able to apply logic and text book knowledge to anything, pulling mostly A's. albeit, i think the work i do now is more interesting. but not simple. nothing is ever simple anymore.
i hate the food in the dining hall. everything has excess oil trans fat nothing is ever organic or nutritional. the only thing pure is a salad and when im nauseated and dizzy and haven't eaten all day, i don't exactly feel like a salad. so i can choose between hydrogenated fried potatoes and fatty, charred chicken or some beef stew slop or a cheeseburger. awesome.
no wonder i'm ten pounds heavier and fighting to maintain even the weight i am now. i think about a double chin a lot and i panic. it never ends.
i see this homeless lady in the park and she makes me really sad. last night i was walking home at about ten thirty or eleven, so greatful that my dorm was in sight, soon to be out of the cold and to have a nice bed and warmth awaiting me, and i almost didn't even notice her curled up on the rock hard bench. everytime i see a homeless person i wince a little bit inside. i remember the first time i visited NYU senior year... my dad and i were walking down Broadway to see the TISCH building for the first time, and we passed this homeless man just slouched over against a building, and his dick was hanging out i just felt so ashamed and sorry for him... don't think i'll ever forget that image. for some reason as i was observing the lady on the bench last night, a foreign voice from a conversation i have had with many people popped into my head saying 'it's their own fault'. i have to say, i really disagree with this. it may be that they are a junkie or some such, or they had a job but lost it or something, but how fucking arrogant is it for some middle class kid (referencing the voice in my head, one of many who all say the same thing) who's never had to sleep on the street or to pay rent or anything else in their life to think they know the person's story, to assume that all 'bums' are the same that they are crazy and they just need to 'get a fucking job'. you don't know them, you don't know what they've been through. stop judging and have a heart. even worse is all the people who become numb to it. they see it so much they just walk by and don't think anything of it. i hope i never become like that. it's like racism or any other problem present. people become so accostomed to something that they begin to ignore it.
often i think about psychology and the hierarchy of needs. the idea is kind of intimidating- that we would never really think much of higher ideals or sensitivity or culture if we didn't have food or shelter. that's just the way it works. kind of reminds me of Ten Things I Hate About You when the english teacher is ridiculing Kat and her protestations and frivolous campaigns for issues like 'better lunch meat' in the cafeteria. if that makes any sense. sometimes i just feel like a liberal bitch, you know?
and speaking of liberal, i was fascinated to find out this weekend that my parents are in fact political independents at heart. they despise the democratic and republican parties almost equally, finding serious flaws with both.
i love witnessing new tricks from old dogs. people are infinitely surprising if you let them.