20080527

Tuesday

2 a.m.

ALIVE

Tonight I’m performing the daunting and tedious task of capturing more video footage to my computer.

My documentary (SPLICE) keeps growing a longer tail as I keep realizing that it’s a “one shot” deal—so I better put in it all the footage that is pertinent to the story.

It’s my autobiography so what do I care? I’m not doing it for anyone else but myself.

I’ve become completely techno-phobic over the years.

I feel like the past 8 years of my life in particular has been nothing but an on-going series of computer melt-downs, data recoveries, at least 50 software programs that I learned, relearned and taught myself, self-taught programming skills, html skills, minor CGI, java, and junking countless peripherals, perhaps ten printers, at least five laptops and another five desktop computers…. I even sold a Mac desktop at a yard sale!

So it was with no surprise that I literally killed three hours reformatting a stupid Raid hard drive from NTSF to GUI (Mac)…only to crash and kill more time testing how video data produces massive delays when capturing videos directly to the external hard-drive.

After all this, I decided to go for a work-around: which is to capture all the footage to my Apple internal hard drive instead—and then move them over to the external and “reconnect” the data through Final Cut. I found that this speeds up productivity and creativity big time. I have no patience for computer epilepsy.

Normally, I do not spend my valuable creative writing time “tech talking.”

But I feel compelled to illustrate how a person who hates computers becomes such a geek-head and “tech savvy” by the sheer necessity to not become enslaved by technology.

My theory is that for everything that you Hate—you have to be able to assimilate with in order to transcend.

In that regards, it’s a “survival skill” you could say.

But I really do hate computers.

I developed a great distrust for new technologies over the years and learned to wait quite a while now before I jump on a bandwagon.

That’s largely why it took me so long to switch over to Final Cut Pro. I needed to wait to see if it would dominate the market and stick around for a while. I really feel that as a video editing program—it’s going to be here (and continue to progress) for the long haul.

Right now, I’m editing in “Room #6” (my mother’s walk-in closet).

People have been calling me to ask me if “I’m Alive” since I don’t pick up the phone when I’m editing (which is all the time).

I think at least three people have asked me that in the past few weeks. I get these “check up” calls where people wonder what happened to me.

I tell them that “I’ve been in The Closet!” voluntarily, and that it has nothing to do with me being gay!

It is an interesting metaphor however: that I spent much of my life coming out of the closet—only to end up back in one…and my mother’s no less!

My friends are a bit perplexed about why I’ve chosen to be in the closet.

It largely has to do with the fact that I love complete darkness and that alchemical “cave dweller” feeling when I edit.

I can’t seem to get that vibe during the day—when all the sunlight bleeds into the room (even with the blinds closed).

Like a moron, I’d feel anxious waiting all day for the sun to set so that I’d feel inspired to cut.

Finally, I got really impatient (and smart):

Since my mother doesn’t use the only walk-in closet in the house—I cleared away some space (next to her bras) to put some old furniture I found in the basement, and set up my Editing Room.

I called it “Room #6” because while editing this personal documentary (about my life in film school) and going through the footage: I noticed that I always edited in Room #6.

It wasn’t based on any superstition in particular; but I knew the personality of the Steenbeck in that room really well; all its parts, mechanisms and its rhythm. I knew that it didn’t lose sync and that everything was in working order.

I slept, ate, edited in that room—and the only thing I didn’t do in there was have sex. The rooms are so filthy that I don’t think anyone ever got turned on in there. However, there is a funny scene in the doc where I talk about someone getting raped in Room # 4 or 5. Well, the raping part isn’t funny—but it’s about a Ghost that hangs out there.

Hence, in the spirit of that editing room (which I spent A LOT of time in; as well as in the doc footage): I felt inspired and made a sign and posted #6 on my mother’s closet.

Tonight I decided to capture some footage of William. An old actor that played the part of the demented Father in my film, “Mystery’s Choir.”

The footage was of the original auditioning process. I had taped it and also interviewed (or chatted rather) with him on tape.

The conversation we had was very interesting, very revealing.

In reviewing the conversation, I was very moved by the part where he told me why he stopped acting in commercial films.

He told me a story about how when he played an actor on a big film set, the production people kept yelling “Background Background!” It turns out that they were referring to the Extras.

William felt this was so inhumane. He said to me on tape, “I’m not ‘BACKGROUND’—I’m a human being and that’s why I stopped doing that type of work.”

But he’s also a real old-timer. He’s a theater actor and had directed a lot of off-broadway plays.

He told some stories about his experience as an extra for some commercial films—which were absolutely hysterical.

He talked a bit about his feelings per the commercial industry—which seems to now be very applicable to the themes in my doc.

I guess I had forgotten about these conversations…and looking back at them now; I realize now how all the collective experiences in my life are fitting nicely together in this piece.

Although the project I’m cutting is a personal video diary (or autobiographical) piece, it covers very hard topics.

It is a film about Art, Sexuality and Truth…and because the content is documented from true experiences—and not just as a soapbox for talking heads, debates or opinions: it seems to carry a bit of Innocence that only the Fragrance of Time can offer.

Further, I enjoy looking at images of my friend Jack when he was young (19 years old)…and how supportive, creative and smart he was.

Recently, since I found out about his deteriorating health (at such a young age): my impetus for cutting this documentary has changed.

A part of me feels like this piece is really for Jack as well: to really honor that nothing we struggled to do has (and will not) go to waste; that I’m going to keep our message Alive.

My doc has about three themes going at the same time.

The first theme is based on a conversation I had with my Film historian teacher in his office about the death of Art cinema, commercialism/capitalism in film and discussions on Exploitation TV and movies.

The second theme involves me lamenting over lost love, discussing my romantic and sexual escapades and infatuations while eating Chinese food with my friend Christopher.

The third theme is my friendship with Jack and our quest for sexual liberation and truth.

The rest of the events happening in my life at that time are all interwoven into those themes and in one way or another; ironically they support them—like the audition with William and so on.

It’s really a film ABOUT filmmaking—not from an industry point of view—but as a personal Projection of Creativity in living Life—of speaking to the world—through art.

Filmmaking is after all, a “way of life”—and not just the mechanics, technical, or industrial or glamorous medium people make it out to be.

Most true filmmakers in life are not making films…just as how most musicians in life—are not on the radio, and how countless talented painters—do not display their work in galleries. Not all poets are published: and many like myself, do not prefer to be.

Further, as much as I’d love to get paid making (my own) films–I never want to become famous; and I never want to get paid to make films for someone or something ELSE–unless they are the Holy Spirit.

Whatever people perceive of film or filmmakers to be: it’s going to be thrown out the window in this doc.

There is nothing pretentiously “film student” or filmmaker-wanna-be revealed in this doc. Jack and I were pretty sophisticated in our rebellion—pretty hardcore about life in general.

So this piece in one way or another depicts through our personalities: the viewpoint of artists who really felt selflessly compelled to go into debt and risk everything just to make art; that people may or may not see.

I say “selflessly” to make art—because we weren’t doing anything for the sake of convention.

This doc has nothing to do with film students whose goal in life is to be the so-called “next Scorsese” or Spielberg (which pains me and gives me Gingivitis to even say those words).

In editing this piece, I sort of cut it by “dabbling” all the moments and interspersing them around the central themes. It’s cut to tear Documentary apart and to retrain the eye to catch up with the mind.

I’ve tried to make the flow as easy to grasp as possible; still the rhythm is a bit anarchist; it takes a bit of concentration to digest the experimental style of cutting.

This whole project was born actually from a creative block.

I got stuck working on a big project and couldn’t cut at all.

So I decided to exercise my love for non-linear—unorthodox film editing style by doing something entirely selfless and deeply personal.

As I cut this piece, I intentionally warp sounds involving any traditional Narration to kill documentary conventions. I leave things whole where they are real—but when it comes to formal “safe” editing conventions: I destroy them.

I support the whole I idea that since this doc is about “splice” and splicing film: I was going to cut only “straight cuts”—thereby cutting Audio on the “splice”—that means the audio is purposefully very blunt, very raw between the cut (because on the Steenbeck, you can’t do Audio cross fades or dissolves; you have to use your imagination).

I liked that Rough Rocky feel of Audio cutting on the dime: just chopping off a song or a thought without apology. The art of splicing film is after all in the Guillotine: and I am taking it to its most extreme metaphor.

So it is this course audio experience that I decided to retain in the editing style: I don’t want to muck it up with pleasantries.

Naturally, I displaced all linear imagery involving storyline by sprinkling or splattering them along the length of the film. It’s really going to test the viewer’s memory; the way to watch this piece is to ease off and not try to “understand” everything literally.

I fuck everything up on purpose: slapping subtitles dead center instead of politely (discreetly) out of the way of the faces…my end credits have “no credits”—things like that.

I think Polite documentary makes for easy Mental Digestion–but it is anything but Art. It is not to say that Art has to be Loud, Rude and Offensive: but its like a Dancer, a Bleeder, a General, and Child…it takes chances.

Where things look like editing or technical “mistakes” they are actually time-laborious Defects that I actually created by hand and put them into the video. I hope that they are so perfectly Defective that they appear like mistakes (but I know they are not).

I love it and having great fun with it.

If I can only get the technology annoyances and computer (space, processing speed) limitations out of the way; this project should be done fairly shortly.

After I finish this fun piece—then I will tear apart the structure of the Vietnam documentary (I was going to do) apart.

Originally, I thought I would cut that documentary formally—to fit into conventional Broadcasting and Theatrical criteria; that’s how I ended up with a creative block.

But now I don’t give a shit.

With the help of cutting SPLICE, I’m going to pulverize the next project until its so devoid of conventional garbage: its going to come out Pure yet hopefully make some kind of sense.

I kept thinking about Conventional Documentary filmmaking and “Stylistic” brainwashing in general and felt entirely confined by that.

I’ve decided that I’m going to cut all my documentaries Experimental Style—because I don’t believe that Art has any boundaries.

This statement is beautiful put and borrowed from Jack in SPLICE…. He said those exact words when I felt most misunderstood by others.

He replied, “Art has no boundaries.”

I decided to turn towards SPLICE to free myself of artistic blocks because I feel the creative issues we have as artists are purely the fault of Society and Conventions.

I ended up cutting this project because I knew it’s not made for anyone but myself and friends.

This being the case, I don’t have to give a shit about what anyone really thinks because no one’s paying me to do it, nor does anyone know or care who I am.

I think this is very good practice to put into place.

In this way, I am teaching myself not to Compromise: it is the opposite of everything anyone has taught me in life.

Not to offend the Animal Kingdom but: “Compromise”, “Getting Along” and so-called “cooperative behavior” (teamwork) is meant for Sheep and Monkeys.

An Artist’s life is not meant for “getting along.” An Artist’s life is meant for Truth—which gets along with no one.

Now that I’m older…

I realize (and can confirm) that those people were all wrong.