Songs for my funeral (list subject to edit).

Yeah. So fucking morbid. Get over it.

"Answering Machine" - Replacements
"Standing in the Rain" - Husker Du
New Day Rising (album) -Husker Du
Eat to The Beat (album) -Blondie
"House of Cards" - Radiohead
"Randy Scouse Git" - Monkees
"Gimme Dat Ding" - The Pipkins
"Naive Melody" - Talking Heads
"Take Me To the River" - Talking Heads
"Genius of Love" - Tom Tom Club
London Calling (album) - Clash
Revolver (album) - Beatles
"Cathy's Clown" - Everly Brothers
"No Expectations" - Rolling Stones
The Idiot (album) - Iggy Pop
(Who Wrote) The Book of Love" - Monotones
"Tell Me a Story" - Iggy Pop
Hunky Dory (album) -David Bowie
"She's a Rainbow" - Rolling Stones
"Betch By Golly Wow" - Stylistics
"Street Spirit (Fade Out)" - Radiohead
Pretenders (album) - Pretenders
Chronic Town (album) - R.E.M.
"Sleep Walk" - Santo & Johnny
Louder Than Bombs (album) - Smiths
Exile on Main Street (album) - Rolling Stones
"Martin Scorsese" - King Missile
"Kids on Holiday" - Animal Collective
"Everywhere That I'm Not" - Translator
Hootenanny (album) - Replacements
"In Bloom" - Nirvana
"The Only Living Boy in New York"- Simon and Garfunkel
"Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans?" Louis Armstrong & Billie Holiday
"Where I End and You Begin" - Radiohead
Play "Dreaming" again.

Show all my movies.

Read "Franny & Zooey".

Show these pictures, because that's where everything ended, or started. I can't decide which.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Antenna Diaries

Error: out of memory.

Whatever. Some kind of corrupt render file I imagine. So many render files. So many externals whirring awake.

Desaturate. Fix fix fix. Color correction is the theme of the summer. I barely know what I'm doing. I should get on those lessons.

I'm planning for it to be November 2nd. And I will stomp my feet and get my way, dammit. I want my princess premiere. I want the Q & A on that stage. I don't know what the fucking problem is.

And so we're writing the next one. It's fairly raunchy so far; I just think the dialogue needs to be sharper. We can't just rely on the sex stories.
Speaking of which, I woke up this morning to a text from Annie, a video of her dancing on stage with the Flaming Lips. She was drunk and still awake in L.A. which meant it was 6am? I was going to tell her that we were writing a fun part for her, but I didn't want to get into some sort of marathon text session.

We went for a walk the other day and found a film can on the street with some film scraps in it. I'm saving them for my next short, because I think this upcoming music video thing needs something else. They sound kind of Man or Astroman? ish, but punkier.

The film scraps are so Lynchian. Or Egglestonian. I think he might be dancing.

The Antenna Diaries

So, yeah. Screening at Easley McCain for sound mix next Friday. Test screening with real audience Monday after next. Must make forms. "Does this damned thing make sense?"

Submitted to Indie Memphis. Also that.

So much work to do, really. Maybe? Is it really picture lock right now? Reading that made me a little nauseous the first time. Now, after taking a week + to export the movie and then a hard drive restoration, it doesn't seem so bad. So many other things to get freaked out about. Like November.

And maybe I'll get that job, which would be cool. I might not pray for death four or five nights a week.

I feel like I haven't gotten shit done today, but I was reminded that we worked on the script for the other movie. Oh. That one. The one with the unprintable title. Really? OH MY GOD! THEY USED A DIRTY WORD AS THE TITLE!!!!! People are so pearl-clutchery. Fuck 'em.

fuck.

Fuck.

fuck.

Fuck.

fuck.

Fuck.

I need to find this album again.

Edit: I just bought it off the ebay. There is a non-zero possibility that it is the original album that I had, on account of I sold my records to a guy in Missouri a zillion years ago and this seller is in Missouri.

Well, fuck.

The Antenna Diaries

So that was good. Really good. I liked the graphics a lot. Although, being a doc about an art academy, it would have to have some good art in it, right? Sure. And we are about some DIY misfits working shit out. Or something.

running time: 1:40:09, without closing credits. THE ART ACADEMY was 1:38.

I need to stop comparing.

The exterminator guy looks at us we're crazy.  CMc is convinced he goes home and talks to his wife about us. But really, I think most people aren't at home when he comes for the monthly spraying, so just interacting with people at all must humor him.

Yes, I know we're behind on screening movies. Could you tell my other boss about that?  My other bosses, I guess.

The new narrative is working well. Maybe we've actually got a movie. That would be nice.  I'd like to have some time to do non-video related art. Or garden. Or lay on the couch and watch stupid movies all day.

So many anxiety attacks.

And then we keep finding pictures we'd forgotten about.

Easley McCain Recording photo: Dan Ball

The Editing Diaries

So much work to do so close to the end.  Making a little movie out of big history.

All I want to do is finish that Raymond Carver bio.

And those pictures make me so sad. I was so young and so scary skinny. In between lockups by men who never ever understood me.

I want to bring a yellow element into "1.8.6.". A yellowment. It seems so awkward right now and it's such a urine yellow in practice but when I go back to picking the color, it's the one I want. Actually, a tobacco stain yellow. More brown. It still looks like urine.

Maybe shapes. The shape is in a trance. lalala. Because it looks cool? Actually it looks kind of stupid.

I'm missing an element and it doesn't appear to be color. I feel like I will pick up a rock while I am walking and written on it will be my answer.

DO THIS THING.

Where is that rock?

I need to watch some more Maya Deren.

So Joann is done with her doc. I want to be done with mine. I compare myself too much to other female filmmakers.

DO THAT THING.

I need to see this movie again. I was so inspired during it. What did I think of? I should write things down.

Maybe I should make it more surreal. There's a crazy rhythm comin' from Puppetland.

The 1.8.6. Diaries

Huh. The last person who said that about me was also on the edge of self-induced dementia.  What a coincidence.

The phone call is coming from inside your head!

Eat the hell out of that salad. Cut the lettuce into tinier and tinier pieces and then there will be more of them but still the same amount of food and that way you can eat half and still get three times as many pieces. See?

I wonder what that little baby grew up to be.

(No, I'm not done with THE MOVIE, but almost. So I have this little movie to work on.)

That ECU of those wiggly sunny-side up eggs grosses me out every time, although it's been pointed out that is how I like my eggs cooked. I like mine in color though.

Is that French toast? 

This is the second film I've done with a completely naked woman in it.  This one isn't crying, although she might be if she knew of the madness that surrounds her.

We have been poking the curse with a stick and look what crawled out.

I love doing the closing credits for my short films. Crew of one. Very attractive. The only person I can get mad at is me, but I guess that's what it's about anyway. It's the voices inside your head, dear.  It's your crew screaming at you all day every day, loop loop loop.

I should watch this movie again: