Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

A TOUR OF MY OLD ROOM

On my recent trip home, I learned that my par­ents had decided to remodel my old room in the next few months. It is almost entirely intact and I wanted to doc­u­ment it before it was changed for­ever. Click on the image below to take a note based Flickr tour.

Brand Upon The Brain!

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Last night, in a unex­pected turn of events, I (actu­ally ran) and saw Guy Madden’s 35mm b&w film Brand Upon The Brain!, part of the Portland Lesbian and Gay Film Festival at Cinema 21 in NW Portland. It was amaz­ing. Guy is sort of the David Lynch of Canada and the film has won the U.S. National Film Critics award TWICE for best U.S. exper­i­men­tal film of the year. Anyway, I fell in love with the expe­ri­ence it gave me. It left me dying to be a part of some­thing sim­i­lar. Let me go into more detail.

The movie, per­for­mance rather, was incred­i­ble. At it’s heart it is a silent film from 2006, although look­ing like an old 1940’s piece, about a boy named Guy who goes to visit his mother. She lives on an island, hys­ter­i­cally peer­ing over the chil­dren from the light­house, where she takes care of orphans and Guy’s father, a sci­en­tist, works hours upon hours invent­ing in the base­ment. His father uses a fam­ily ring to suck out “nec­tar” from the orphans in order to move for­ward with his age-defying exper­i­ments. It’s a story about weight, it’s a story about love, and it’s a story about over­com­ing parental forces and allow­ing your­self to move on from their boundaries.

The ver­sion I saw included a small cham­ber ensem­ble, a 3 per­son live foley cre­ation, a cas­trato (kinda), and nar­ra­tion by Stephen Malkmus. The minimalist-style orig­i­nal score was writ­ten by Seattle com­poser Jason Staczek and del­i­cately matched the mood of the film, both dra­matic and somber (quite sim­i­lar to one of my all-time favorites Max Richter). The play­ers per­formed beau­ti­fully and I can only pray that one day I can be a com­poser who gets the chance to match the cal­iber of the writ­ten score, let alone the entire experience.

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The foley artists were fab­u­lous as well. It was freak­ing incred­i­ble and inspir­ing to watch them per­form and I’ve never seen any­thing quite like it. They used some of the most tac­ti­cal approaches to cre­at­ing the sounds of paint­brushes, pit­ter pat­ter of steps on a stair­case, books clap­ping closed, the ocean, eerie night freaky­ness, and out-of-this-world-cinematic-craziness exploita­tion. I was in awe. I couldn’t decide which to watch, the film or the musi­cians or the foley artists or Stephen. Unbelievable!

Stephen Malkumus was an inter­est­ing touch. It was pretty “cool” to see him take part in this even but it kinda felt like he was telling jokes the whole time — not far off from the lines in the nar­ra­tion which are quite humor­ous — but I think today’s per­for­mance with dry-toned Calvin Johnson might’ve been a bet­ter fit. Nevertheless, it was an expe­ri­ence that will live inside and inspire me for a long, long time.

Jump In Too Easily

As organic as the oppor­tu­nity for me to stay in Portland pre­sented itself, it’s hard for me to feel like the deci­sion grew out of me the same way. I guess what I’m try­ing to say is god damn, I hope I’m doing the right thing. I sup­pose I am, and I sup­pose I know in my gut what I should do. But does that make it any eas­ier? Hell no. Perhaps that’s why it’s so hard. How can a deci­sion to leave the most sup­port­ive, lov­ing peo­ple you know and trust on the whole entire earth be a gut feel­ing? I’ve been wrestling with this sweaty ques­tion for a while now and I still feel beat and only mid-match.

Recently a dear friend wrote to me, say­ing “do every­thing with your whole heart”. These words have made them­selves com­fort­able in my head and I would smile when I thought of the words and the voice of the words. They would revi­tal­ize my core and con­tin­u­ally refresh my spirit with burst of pos­i­tiv­ity and enlight­en­ment. They’re not out-of-the-ordinary but they turned into a solid mantra, capa­ble and uti­lized by any­one and every­one. But recently I’ve real­ized that because I’m so torn by my deci­sion, I feel the dead, lazy feel­ing of inca­pa­bil­ity, the inabil­ity, to do any­thing with my whole heart. And that is a dark place.

When I vis­ited my grand­par­ents on my return trip to Portland, my grand­mother was show­ing me around their small apart­ment in Ripon, CA and she opened up their bed­room. “And there’s grandpa sleep­ing, sound asleep,” she said. I looked over and he was lying still on his side, no real motion from any part of his body, eyes wide open. This is how he sleeps: eyes open. He is now legally blind, fight­ing skin cancer–amongst other things–from play­ing too much ten­nis when he was a kid in Denver. He is now close to the end of his road. I have a gut-feeling that I just saw him for the last time.

I’m not try­ing to for­mu­late a cor­re­la­tion between my grandpa dying and my friend­ships dying. I’m really try­ing, but how can I not? I under­stand that there most cer­tainly will be loss. But out of that loss will come gain. It’s like I’ve cut a tiny branch, fer­til­ized by the growth in my lush for­est of lovers and friends, and am now try­ing to regrow a huge tree from the lit­tle bits of sap that I have pre­served from the beau­ti­ful fer­men­ta­tion of mem­o­ries. It’s not unnat­ural, in fact most of nature encoun­ters it far more than I ever will, but it’s a new expe­ri­ence, for me, in doing it to your­self. A process I can relate only to my expe­ri­ence of going off to col­lege and leav­ing my high-school friends and fam­ily behind. Looking back, there’s only a few friends who I still talk to reg­u­larly and even those con­ver­sa­tions seem to be harder and harder to jump into easily.

I’ve always hopped into groups of friends quite quickly, immers­ing myself deeply and then leav­ing. This isn’t some­thing I do con­sciously, but it in hind­sight I’m very afraid to how it’s per­ceived by oth­ers. The worst part I imag­ine is not that I did it, but that I did it with­out express­ing my sin­cer­ity for the rela­tion­ships that I took part in.

During my deci­sion mak­ing process I broke down one night when I thought about what my future looked like, and more about what it lacked. I sat in my car and lis­tened to Privacy and remem­bered so many cher­ished mem­o­ries with the friends I was about to leave. It was a painstak­ingly wretched process that I, only after the pack­ing and the final good­byes and the drive and the set­tling in, am now finally unearthing the tin­gles in my belly, my gut, and my head.

Although my eyes still work, I imag­ine myself some­day at the point my grandpa is at now: eyes open, see­ing every cher­ished face and reliv­ing each mem­ory over and over again, sleep­ing with light and cry­ing beau­ti­fully, with­out shame, bask­ing in the pure grate­ful­ness he has for his life.

Thank you.

(Throw On The) Hazard Lights

This a music video for the song “Throw On The (Hazard Lights)” by The Dirty Projectors. This song can be found on the album Slaves Graves’ and Ballads which came out in 2004 on Western Vinyl. This is what they have to say:

Dave Longstreth is the man behind, or per­haps in front of, the music called Dirty Projectors. Longstreth wrote half of Slaves’ Graves and Ballads, the follow-up to last year’s critically-acclaimed debut, The Glad Fact, for a ten-piece cham­ber group called The Orchestral Society for the Preservation of the Orchestra. This first half, Slaves’ Graves, was recorded in a church in New Haven, CT. The Ballads were recorded with guru and quak­ing soul­man Adam Forkner of Yume Bitsu at Dub Narcotic Studios, in Olympia, WA. Witness Longstreth use GM tech­nol­ogy to restore maize to its orig­i­nal, feral genetic makeup, before the advent of domes­ti­ca­tion: this is clas­si­cal and pop music’s bodies-entwined, souls-commingled wed­ding! Their child doesn’t have one white eye and one Asian one; rather, he sees differently.

I shot most of the footage on a HP Photosmart L1822A dig­i­tal cam­era while on tour with The Righteous and Harmonious Fists. There’s not a whole lot of influ­ence from the mag­nif­i­cent films James Sumner made for the Dirty Projectors, but I really love a lot about this song and wanted to com­bine some videos that I shot in San Francisco and on the road trav­el­ing up the west coast. I man­aged to get some really long shots on the L1822A — the SF street shot was 20min — and some of them came out really great. Some also came out pretty weird — did you see the face??? Finally, this is the first time I’ve ever used iMovie to edit videos and I’m still fig­ur­ing out some tricks but I hope you like it!

Pre-Post Color Contest 2007

Before The Hop can become a cool place to come and chill I need a com­fort­able envi­ron­ment that gets the vibe under con­trol. I’m talk­ing about color.

These are the shades I’m con­sid­er­ing, tell me what you think and, with your help, we can all win: