The other day I posted a video only a few days after my previous upload. Wha happun? Wha gives? Why and how you do that? Here’s the tale.
Maya and I are essentially departing upon regular film-photo-fashion-passion missions. I commit myself to capturing just the time and place when we head out. I will make an effort not to use footage from my dozens of other treasure bins. Only then can I possibly hope to have an edit finished (unless I just know of the perfect shot hiding in the recesses of some distant day’s folder). The constraints make it possible, and they also make for a great challenge and an honest final video.
With this in mind, I contacted Maya about heading out early the other day because I noticed the light was warm and silky and beautiful and probably on its death bed. Always at its prettiest just before it dies. I headed out a bit early to get some time lapse shots of the neighborhood. Maya managed to spot me crouched over some ancient mystery stains in an alleyway getting the mist-over-the- mountains-beyond-the-power-lines shot, and we headed off immediately in the direction of dwindling sun. It was a stormy night without the actual storm, which was very kind and undoubtedly played a great roll in defining the tone of this movie. Dusk was mercifully slow-moving, giving us a gloomy sky that glowed and radiated with extra menace. Basically, it was a beautiful blast and we didn’t stop shooting until my battery blinked its last red death knell.
While on Broadway we hung out a bit with local punk rocker Doug Donut and a couple of lovably grungy bluegrass buskers on the street (Ryan and ____, sorry ____). Doug saw the camera and was immediately onstage right there on the sidewalk, flipping people off, tearing his shirt off and ultimately ensuring that no man, woman, or child could possibly enter the skytrain station without stepping through a great shuddering bubble of “Fuck the Man”.
Doug Donut: Not a man of shirt’d subtleties.
It’s all on camera with the boys providing a God-damned live punk grass jamboree for a soundtrack. It’s very cool, but as you can imagine, it was a bit of a different color shade in this particular movie. So it’s going into a treasure bin with the other treasures, and hopefully I’ll figure out the cure soon for this damned procrastination.
Speaking of which, somebody do my taxes. Thanks.
Maya deserves a very special mention for being so totally engaged in this whole thing and making these movies so much better than they could possibly be otherwise. Who am I kidding, they wouldn’t remotely exist otherwise. I may be handling the technical filmmaking side, but she is able to inform and inspire while injecting so much of herself into these that it’s nothing if not a 50/50 collaboration. It’s not just music picks and editing notes and her unique brand of tasty genius, it’s also the fact of her Maya-ness that, a bit like the radioactive clouds over the “Jesus is Coming” sign, informs such a great deal of the mood of these little Maya Movies.
I’m learning a ridiculous amount on these excursions, lessons that I shall save for another post, but lessons of the valuable type, the type worth sharing.
In the meanwhile, please visit Maya’s blog to get the other side!