The Sound I Love Most

The sound I love most (uh, other than a cute chick climaxing) in the world.

The sound of a plane going overhead.

Man, that sound of a plane passing overhead. And it slowly fading into the distance fills me with such sadness and longing. It reminds me of sitting in an elementary classroom as a kid on a Northern Californian summer morning with the class door open and the blue sky seen outside.

And when a plane went overhead. Man, it made me feel like all was right in the world for those few lonely, beautiful seconds.

And then it was back to the harsh, horrible reality of being miserable, of being lonely, of being friendless, of never having a girlfriend and the reality of all the vicious, nasty classmates around me. And not having the strength physical or courage wise to stand up to them. Violence and strength is all bullies respect. And if I had the strength I needed at that time I would have beaten them all bloody like they soundly deserved.

I remember the day I was supposed to move away from that neighborhood and the elementary school I was attending at the time and the teacher or I think principal came up and got me during the outdoor activity my fifth grade class was having at that time and said, "Your Mom is here to pick you up."

And I got up. And he led me away from all those vicious assholes and bullies and I felt a wave of relief as we walked away. A blissful rush of happiness. Sure, I probably knew more bullies awaited me at my new school. But to think I was leaving all THESE vicious asshole bullies behind, never to be seen or heard from again. I didn't miss them, they were forgotten in an instant. Because I knew I would never see, hear or come in contact with them again.

I was free. And happy. If only briefly.

It was a glorious moment.

Oh yea, oh yea...

Blessings to all the kind hearted people in the world who accept those who are different (but harmless). And death and dismemberment to the bullies of the world.

Psychotically yours...

Almost There...Hal Hartley Musings

Well, all the deliverables for the film are ready to go at long long last. Just awaiting approval from my music supervisor that I've hired over the net to secure the rights to a piece of music for the film.

Licensing music, especially well known pop songs is a nightmare. Never again. Never again.

I've completed my next screenplay I want to shoot. Another off the wall comedy in the same comedic vein as the first one. Now I just have to secure financing. No more self-financing for me. Just gets too blasted expensive.

Once the approval for the rights for a certain piece of music comes through I'll Federal Express the deliverables to the distributor and that's that. Something I thought I would never accomplish all those many moons and months ago. Independent filmmaking takes so long. I wish I was a low budget auteur like Hal Hartley (but without the need to alienate my audience as HH has seemingly done in recent years). Does he WANT people to dislike his films?

After sitting through the gawdawful motion blur effect that was present through Hartley's The Girl From Monday and the endless use of dutch angles in the cryptic Fay Grim. And the use of digital video over the vastly superior image quality of 35mm. Well, you get the idea.

Still, Hartley manages to live off the profits of his films. And is able to live comfortably and make the small, off the wall films that he wants. I'd want my stuff to be a bit more acessible than his works though. Henry Fool wasn't a Hartley flick in need of a sequel. Far from it. But Fay Grim is somewhat a return to form than his last few films.

You can't be another filmmaker though. As hard as you try. You can only be yourself.

Innovate. Don't imitate.

Adios, for the memento, true believers.