A chronicle on the life of an emerging filmmaker, producer, Actors, and a Gypsy while trying to make a movie called London Times and LA Moments....its hardcore and more.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thunder Love by Little Dragon
Then dawn came and I stayed and was laughing with you The smoke love then I dove and was kissing with you
My past erase as we lay in a daze please say nothing of yesterdays
Im going to sleep Im going to sleep under the stars until the end till your touch say time will it begin Im going to love until the bitter end
Working days get in my way as Im thinking of you smoke love keep dreaming of when I was kissing with you My past erase as we lay in a daze
I can honestly say that I had a fantastic Christmas, and among the many wonderful experiences and exchanges I encountered, what really completed this holiday season or even the year for that matter, was finding this picture. Wow, I was sixteen in this photo, on my way to prom, and the most meaningful moment during that evening was standing there next to my grandfather, considering, he was so incredibly dynamic to me. I thought about this photo often… and I found it.
Being a creative, a filmmaker, a woman, or just simply a person often it’s necessary that I go inward to reach that motivation, you know, that incentive to keep pushing' ahead and get out there to manifest those dreams, those goals. Lately, my grandfather has been at the center of this place that I turn to, and I can't even begin to go on about how lucky I am to have had a grandfather who took the time to create that Avalon.
What do I find in this Avalon, this special retreat? The memories, I find the memories, the days my grandfather gave me the pomegranates he picked in his backyard, the dollhouse I adored that he worked so hard to build for me. I hear the music he collected and placed on cassette tapes just for me. Sometimes when I return to this Avalon I can smell the sandwiches he would make for me in his little cooking sandwich machine. I watch him sitting alone, quietly listening to Paul Simon, and I can even see him sitting beside me falling asleep in church right around the moment I would lean against him and fall asleep as well.
Love grows and remains with you in this life and beyond, creating a place for you to always turn to and find the will to win.
I thank my lucky stars for that place where I can always find my grandfather Lorenzo, sitting there listening quietly to the music he collected, the music he gave to me.
So what... now? Well my film was brought back to life and placed in a competition, seems to be doing well. I was even inspired to create a facebook fan page, yeah I did it, it's called Lets Make The Jamaican Gypsy a Show on BET! Why not, right? I just decided to take it a step further, although it would be amazing to just win, win in general, but win the competition to be more specific! Tomorrow I go to a screening for my film at a local festival, should be nice to swim in the enthusiasm of creative ambition and the desire to do what I enjoy, and live it.
Dreams, for some it may be fame or even science, for me its moving pictures, with stories that break the silence, the kind you just want to think about and imagine with different endings and for different reasons. Who would have thought that I would evolve into someone who allows the heart to lead me…
Another thing I enjoy other than film is music. About a year ago I came across a song written by Feist, I'm not one to listen to a lot of her music, but this particular song floated in and around my thoughts, I couldn't get away from the lyrics, the words.. I like it when the music is just in the words, and not just in the sound, or the beat but the words, and the story it paints..
Its funny, this writing stuff and whatever is written, just sending it out there, not knowing if there is a receiver.. Do people actually read these words? If so, well…Thanks. I could be better at this, blogging, exhibiting, etc… I’ll just leave you with the lyrics that found me this evening, hope it finds you.. happy.
Intuition by Feist I'll know, I'll know I won't have to be shown The way home And it's not about a boy Although, although
They can lead you Break or defeat you
A destination known Only by the one Whose fate is overgrown Piecemeal could break your home In half A love is not complete With only heat
They can tease you Break or complete you
And in came a heatwave A merciful save You choose, you chose Poetry over prose A map is more unreal than where you've been Or how you feel And it's impossible to tell How important someone was And what he might have missed out on And how he might have changed it all and how you might have changed it all for him and how you might have changed it all and how he might have changed it all for you and did i, and did i miss out on you
The bridge between the sentient and insentient worlds, hide behind the forest of eyelids and dreams. A place known as the dark massive collector of glowing circles spit out diamond shaped stars. Stars that merge to become like the sun, flying past a pervasive emptiness with speed increasing by the distance, redefining time while penetrating space. A spontaneous divergence of this fire kingdom manifest two flames rocketing into black clouds…
'...and somehow once separated from him, I would just land, on planet earth. That’s kind of how I imagined it. And after many lives, there in between each, the process would begin again, the abyss, the stars and back to earth. An unraveling memory as my only keepsake, reminding me of the crimes and good deeds done before.’
So after a while, when you're trying to make it through this world as a creative worker-bee, its necessary to take a moment and regroup. My regrouping often requires dancing in front of a mirror like I'm possessed with the entire movie of Breakin to the music of Aretha Franklin, singing very loudly R-E-S-P-E-C-T... But even then, do I sometimes find myself either too tired to do the crazy dance, or I've just simply lost my voice from singing too loudly.. but lucky for me, I often stumble across other options that don't include things only found in Amsterdam..but do include...drumbeat... what I came across recently, Going Goddess written by Kasmik Zenter, which is my new favorite book of the moment and my mom's not yet given Christmas gift.
Going Goddess is filled with incredibly illustrated Goddesses that look like gorgeous Brazilian fairies surrounded by electric blues, neon pinks, and Vampiric reds .. Its also a great resource to find out about essential healing oils, alternative views of the world and most importantly the incredible Goddess in you. And just to note, there is also a goddess in every man too, and I'm not just speaking of Les Hommes that dress like goddesses, I'm also talking about you sitting there in the dented man-couch with the heineken and/or Vaporizer pasted on your face like a gas mask...or both..
So, if you are ready for some major relaxation and brain stimulation all working together like the most intense and effective massage ever experienced then go out and treat yourself to Going Goddess and indulge in the writing, paintings and illustrations of Kasmik Zenter.
Kissing for a good cause and kissing the author of An Awesome Book, is just simply well Awesome!!! If you haven't bought this prize work for your child or yourself, please do, because it is so very worth it, especially if you have dreams... The gypsy cried when she read it...
The traveler blinks her eyes repeatedly, questioning the truth of what is behind or in front of the lid... the darkness with just faint traces of color from the light, creeps in and out... Her tiny hands rub out the dizziness, embracing what she's been taught is the land of hidden truth.
The search for truth...years, come and go, and her limbs grow like branches, although her journey remains, headed in the direction of North.. She dances through life....the dance turns to running... she is running through life.. At the crossroads of love and deception, she studies the images of both that are identical... Realizing the image of love is deceptive, and deception itself is just a bridge between where she stands and the unknown abyss of where her search continues....
We're just two mirrors, reflecting the other... from your world to mine... how many times have I stared into you... using my fingertip to trace your shape above my breast....how many stories and in how many different ways can I retell our navigation ... One mirror reflecting the other... This could be funny... all the ways we reappear... here...there...in every corner of the earth...only to return... to one mirror... reflecting the other... An eternal memory as the compass that brings this traveler closer...The beat in my chest becomes heavier as the journey to half of the source illuminates me.....
So I'm really trying not to write another screenplay inspired by every time I get my heart broken... not a way to get motivated.. Its like a constant replay of a nightmare ... And every time I come up with an idea and I think its something kind of unique in its own way, it suddenly then turns into something like deja-vous, where I soon realize wow another torture session, am I really writing about my heartache again.. seriously.. So, I have since decided to write about something I want. And yes it has a happy ending... It will be about the complete, and total opposite of heartache..and no, just because it doesn't rip your soul out doesn't mean it blows... It just means.... I'm forecasting the map of my own heart... to a theater near you...
If they can travel from show to show, perform night after night, use their van as dressing rooms, and work their rumps off trying to get their music out there, then I can make a friggin' movie.... or at least... at least.....a web series... seriously...
Lately if I'm not writing then I often find myself drinking wine and dancing around like a gypsy with friends..... or alone.... to the song Cherbourg by Beirut or My Night With a Prostitute From Marseille, also by Beirut!
My friend Jesse says that when I shoot my projects, I often incorporate 'The dance of the dead,' .....perhaps.... because often I am performing 'The dance of the living,' kicking my legs up and down, with my arms reaching for whatever is above...I can even get dramatic with my fist hitting hard against my heart...goes without exception to being a citizen of a Gypsy world....
What happens when one portrait can impact an entire community? Come and see July 2 at Space 15Twenty with the display of M.I.A's portrait done by Plastic God. The portrait will be up for auction to help the Tamil people and others impacted by war and poverty.
Brought to you by The Form and Function Festival and Visions for the Future (NGO).
Crazy For you By Adele I Found myself today singing out loud your name. You said I'm crazy, if I am I'm crazy for you.
Sometimes sitting in the dark wishing you were here turns me crazy, but it's you who makes me lose my head
And everytime I'm meant to be acting sensible you drift into my head and turn me into a crumbling fool.
Tell me to run and I'll race, if you want me to stop I'll freeze. And if you want me gone I'll leave, just hold me closer baby.
And make me crazy for you. Crazy for you.
Lately with this state Im in I can't help myself but spin. I wish you'd come over send me spinning closer to you.
My oh my, how my blood boils, its sweetest taste for you It strips me down bare and gets me into my favourite mood.
I keep on trying I'm fighting these feelings away, but the more I do the crazier I turn into.
Pacing floors and opening doors hoping you'll walk through and save me boy. Because I'm too
crazy for you. Crazy for you.
Sometimes there are those songs, such as the one above, with lyrics that would just make the best dialogue, not only in film but perhaps even in real life...
And then, there are those other songs, like the one below, with lyrics that magically do an unexpected replay of a real life experience. An experience that was once only a memory, almost forgotten, until the radio reminded you, provoking a quiet excitement spoken only in a whisper 'Damn that would make a great film'...Suddenly the car then turns right around to the nearest coffee shop...where you breakout that mac-lap and type your heart out (tears and all) with only the boundaries of screenplay format policed by final-draft.....
5 Verses by Jeremy Warmsley They met in a karaoke bar Jack was singing "Lola" in a long black wig The TV screen with the lines from the song Caught the reflection of a girl
He caught her eye and he went wrong She laughed while he apologized. So they started talking to each other Mary's friends listening from beyond And shaking their heads
She had on half a smile as she looked away from him He was falling victim to her every whim The barman sighed, a tear in his eye. So they kissed that night and she took him home
Though they were strangers he held her so tenderly But she thought it might be fun to string him along She knew it wasn't right; she didn't think it was wrong She'd stop before he was in love with her
She didn't stop to think she might fall in love with him. Well it went on for a week, a month, a year Mary somehow forgot to break it off Now she felt so trapped and she didn't know why
She was so sure that she loved him though it started as a lie When she realized she broke down and told him He already knew -- he'd read it in her diary the day before..
It turned out that he was the same as her Living a lie on automatic pilot Now they didn't know what to do They didn't know who they were Mary tried to smile, Jack slipped his hand into hers..... The barman would have been surprised
This song is kinda what I felt like shouting out loud recently (last Friday) when the Gypsy and I handed in our last draft... Yes, a draft of a story that began as a symbol of many things- a sense of humour in heartache as well as the oncoming of possible love, the end of a friendship but also the beginning of a new one, growth, resolution, and many other things.
It took us some time, revising those last fifty pages.. Experiences had come and gone. I was no longer the same person with the same thoughts nor was the Gypsy. What or where was this story going? But then it came... that conclusion. It came in our own moments of transition, healing,and happiness... it came in a warehouse filled with loud music soundtracking the paintings of naked Russians crowding the walls, gloved hands gripped on the handlebars of a motorcycle speeding through the city, a voice singing intensely in the quiet of a writing session.
Experiences in life will not often resolve in the way we may want, but sometimes what happens in those very moments can be good enough for what they're worth...lessons, feelings, passion, great sex, excitement, feeling the heartbeat and break. It is all better than a boring day in the kingdom of nine to five, the routine of everyday life and mechanical people..
In between my writing sessions with the Gypsy, I somehow convinced the following creative-superheroes: Dara Oum, Thuc Nguyen, Stephen Hauptfuhr, Seth, and Jordan Daly to join my mime movement...
I have learned as a filmmaker, in order to keep motivated, it's important to stay in close proximity to creative-superheroes. They tend to save the day and keep the vision moving...
What do you do when there isn't government subsidized funding for independent film productions in your country?
1. You direct each other or yourself in short form projects,no more than five minutes max... 2. Replace dialogue with a timeless classic by a band like, lets say: Joy Division. 3. Find an unemployed friend during a recession, who just so happens to be a DP and Editor all in one.... 4. Get a camera and Final-Cut Pro via a friend who makes a living off of ebay, but has time due to a recession and slow business. 5. And create a concept that allows for free locations!!!!
Getting that rhythm in your film is like finding that beat in a song, the one that makes you want to move...I often write to music as I am right now, listening to Drugs in My body by Thieves Like Us. Although, for some reason this song is particularly distracting to me, maybe because I'm swaying from side to side as I type. When I was revising LTLM with the Gypsy, I would often request that music be played. The Gypsy would of course complain, because as I mentioned before, she likes to break into song sometimes while we work, and that would be difficult to do if there were a song already being played. Got it down to a science!
But back to the rhythm, as I am able to focus a little more, due to a new song being played, Kilogramm by Bodi Bill. Rhythm in the script, among the actors and within the picture is a hard goal to achieve all at once but its possible...When I did a staged performance with my actors of LTLM and we were preparing, I would often reference certain films to demonstrate to them the importance of finding a rhythm within their ensemble. The two films I would often recommend were The Boss of it All, and Nothing But a Man....
Strangely enough, the Boss of it All is completely without a soundtrack, although the film itself, the cast and their performance is so incredibly lyrical. Its almost as if the actors in this film are not only on the same wavelength but have seemingly studied each other so intensely that they perform as if they're con artist sprinkling their trickery on prey, using an effective formula of imitating or reenacting particular human nature but only with the intent of controlling the oncoming reaction.
As I think a little further into this; the film, Boss of it All, is about passive aggression and manipulation, so the performance of the actors now makes more sense. Although, I believe the rhythm in the Boss of it All, perhaps had a lot to do with the rhythm in the script, as well as the rhythm of the director himself, Lars von Trier. Everyone in this film seems to be very in tune with the other, kind of like performance art, actually a rhythm between actors, or you may say artist, produces what most would confidently identify as performance art...
In Nothing But a Man, I noticed that the rhythm between the actors fell directly into the raw human chemistry... The first time I ever really understood the chemistry between individuals was when I saw the performance between Abbey Lincoln and Ivan Dixon, where they were sweating desperation, love, and disappoint all under the bright southern sun, without even saying a word, but standing there in front of the other, painfully pleading with their eyes....Somehow these brilliant filmmakers, Michael Roemer and Robert Young, were able to translate from the page to the screen, to my thoughts, and in my words as I tried to explain the importance of rhythm to my actors. Although in this particular film, I did notice the music playing along side with the picture.
The music of Nothing but a Man would not only help to create the rhythm projected between the actors, and the motion picture, but also mark a moment in history, and in time with chorus lines that would remain in our hearts and in our minds for generations to come. The legacy of Nothing but a Man further demonstrates the importance of how the rhythm in a film can reflect the rhythm in life....
Track listing of Nothing But a Man, original soundtrack released by Motown Records in 1964:
1. Heat Wave, (Love Is Like A) - Martha Reeves & The Vandellas, 2. Fingertips (Pt. II) - Little Stevie Wonder, 3. That's The Way I Feel - Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, 4. Come On Home - Holland & Dozier, 5. This Is When I Need You Most - Martha Reeves & The Vandellas, 6. I'll Try Something New - Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, 7. Way Over There - The Marvelettes, 8. Mickey's Monkey - Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, 9. You Beat Me to the Punch - Mary Wells, 10. You've Really Got A Hold On Me - Smokey Robinson & The Miracles (live), 11. Bye Bye Baby - Mary Wells
While writing my film,I have often found myself wrestling with thedifficulty of translating onto page, the internal journey…How does one honestly write a persons cry for freedom without the actual prison or cage? I know it can be done, but to get there, to get to those words is a journey in itself… A journey I thought was all too impossible… that was, until I stumbled upon two films:
Waiting for Happiness, andDas Fräulein….
Both films effectively cover the internal journey in a simple yet powerful way, from using the camera as a witness to the yearning in Mauritania tothe painful sacrifices made in the soul of Zurich. While succeeding in demonstrating that a modest budget with a small ensemble cast can create two award-winning films, it also proves that anything is possible with a strong story, fearless talent, and a lot of heart.
I pledge (imagine my hand over my heart) to someday make a film that you would want to watch even if you didn’t understand one word being said... as if the characters were speaking something like, Norwegian, and all the words were seen and not heard.
I often go to a library or museum and watch people. I use to bring a tablot to sketch them~ But that really was an excuse. I don't know how to draw at all. I'm just fucking noisy. I watch men and women while they look at paintings and things, books, panoramas, etc. I enjoy the moments of others. How do they hold a newspaper or sip from the water fountain? Are they wearing socks? do their feet smell? Why is there dirt under this guys fingernails? He's wearing a fine suit! Often children smile while being spoken too. Often men awkwardly joke to break the ice, then touch the woman who they are attending the event with whilst they laugh. I have watched an elderly woman cry while standing in front of a Jackson Pollock. She wanted to touch the painting although security would not allow her.
I've listened to confessions and criminals. I have stolen moments from lovers and warriors and from these people I have tried to duplicate their words in my life.. Sometimes. I mean/ please don't get me wrong, I am not a criminal, Although I have heard a woman talk about how she wanted to murder her dog. In great detail she shared this with an estranged partner whom didn't seem to believe it at all. It was only for a moment that I imagined I would do the same. But, I don't have a dog.
I would give anything to brush by myself. To look into my life at some public event in just the same way that I have looked into these strangers' lives. At some social mumbo jumbo LA evening/ just so I can hear what comes out of my mouth. Just so I can rate how full of shit I really am. I want to catch myself being caddy or throwing a salty look. Is this difficult to understand?
So, because I am myself and not these strangers, what do I do? I can take a slice of these peoples life away from them as they are living it. I can rearrange it. This is how I write. Mixing and matching these moments on a secret canvass in my brain. I make them make sense. I make them make poetry. I can not see a person's future or past, so I simply go out and find it. I will paste a young child's "cut-out" sequence of life that I have stolen from the library and match it up with a moment from a married man that I find reading in a park with a baby. If I want to know what happened in between: I will go to a university and find him walking to class with too many books in his bag, or holding hands with a older woman in a tight skirt. This is my process. It may or may not contain any plot progress and sometimes very little character development, and it often has no exposition, conflict, or denouement. But, I often discover my characters to be astonishing and ravishing. With a wide beautiful open ended life, and with no lesson yet to teach to anyone. I then reach inside of myself and ask what it is time for me to learn. And they show me the way.
So I just finished a writing session with the Gypsy... And I think we spent more time enduring tortuous filibusters and debates on who knew the most about cross-dressing men in London, than actually revising the script. I mean we were so caught up with this burden of proof that it almost appeared like we were defending our creative integrity...
The winner of the debate would be able to add or delete certain defining details about the love interest of the film, meaning there would be a chance that one of the central characters (the love interest) could possibly be misunderstood throughout the entire film as a part time cross-dresser...
By the end of the debate the Gypsy deemed herself as the winner with one important cultural tidbit, that I was totally ignorant of, apparently all British men are secret cross-dressers and thats why they enjoy all those costume parties so much.. Who knew......
My producer recently told me I needed to change the title of my film, something that could really catch the concept and most importantly the attention of possible investors, an audience, and the list goes on...and on...
Perhaps I'll change the title of my film to something like Black Honkey, I recently saw those words written across a canvas at an art show, just those words and nothing else. The piece was selling for something like $2500.
Yeah... Black Honkey, and the film would totally go against the title, where the Black Honkey would actually tie into the audience watching, or the investors, or my producer, make them really feel like they're a part of the film, or actually in it, even better....
Something to consider... You are a Black Honkey... we are all Black Honkies, for now...
Each time I have driven past that old Pussy Cat Theatre on Santa Monica Boulevard, and seen the image of that woman hanging above, instantly, I come up with a story..a scene in a short film... or a feature, kind of like Neil Jordan's Mona Lisa....you name it...
Although, I have since been informed by a friend, that its not the type of place I would want to go around professing as the reference of my imagination unless I want to make films like Bruce LaBruce...never thought about it in that way before, but apparently the film Otto: Or Up With Dead People, and The Raspberry Reich are among cult classics by LaBruce or at least thought provoking..I mean you have to admit, there is something thought provoking in a gay, Zombie, love story such is the case with Otto: Or Up With Dead People..
There are times when I have these really rough days, trying to motivate myself with the thoughts of 'what the hell am I doing with my life, writing and creating these stories, scripts, trying to shoot these people who pretend to be characters on camera. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE???'
Days like this come.... and go...
And then came that one day, where again, I found myself yelling out my frustrations, sitting alone in my car, waiting at a red light, that I saw this guy trudging along in front of me... It was almost like in slow motion...... and I looked at him through my window, crossing the street, watching him bear the entire weight of his emerald green Incredible Hulk costume, while carrying the heavy Incredible Hulk's head, just making his way in the dry LA heat towards the boulevard of stars....
And as I continued to look at him, somehow and for some reason my anxieties, those questions of 'what the hell am I doing with my life' just seem to fizzle quietly away ...just like that... I wonder if Matthew Ogens had that same experience, watching that very same man, before directing his doc, Confessions of a Superhero.... Who knows...
So this weekend I'm looking forward to working with the Gypsy, my writing partner. Our job is to make some minor revisions... I'd like to compare us to the ladies of Baise Moi where their nemesis consist only of creepy men, and in our case, cringe worthy dialogue that crucify our script...
But before we actually get to the 'screenplay' I'll go down a certain journey. The Gypsy's journey of living in London, her romantic escapades, and professing organic food while getting caught red handed with a Big Mac... Yes, and somehow the Gypsy will manage to convey all of these things and then suddenly break into a song... no really... But I love it because by the time we get to the script, and pound eachothers' ego with how we blow creatively, funny things get said, and eventually recorded...
So, being a filmmaker in LA is, well, it is what it is.... And what is it currently (?), at least for me, it is the making of London Times and LA Moments the film...Oh and that's just the working title...so far.
This is where I introduce the key players in the making of this film starting with Amit, the producer...Myself Michelle, the Filmmaker... and the Actors -Arlene, Jiang, Bryan, and Mr.X (because he's kinda famous)...So with that said...where are we at now (?)..
Well aside from deportation, a severe injury (a bullet wound), starring in a television show and indie film, living to see the day Bush out and Obama in, and riding this wave of a challenged economy, I think my team has really pulled through.... and if worse comes to worse we can always move to East Berlin, which is where all the other creatives seem to be migrating to....
But in the meantime, we're here in LA, trying to make this film happen....
Posts
