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 my favourite pair of mittens
second favourite cardigan
third favourite scarf
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the rain to the wind said,
"you push and I'll pelt."
they so smote the garden bed
that the flowers actually knelt,
and lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
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 please. put me in my place. my friends obviously can't. username: orange tic-tac
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 today's class was the most challenging thus far. the task: create a three minute film in three hours based on one of the seven deadly sins. it was pot luck (numbers 1-7) which my group chose, so obviously I chose se7en. I pulled out lust, of course. the best sin invented in the whole wide world! somehow Chris (who looks so much like Harry Potter, he actually fools American girls on chatroulette.com with his magic wand) came up with the inspired title Lust in Translation. our plot: guy sees article in paper about an Italian barmaid who dresses scantily to pull in punters to her bar and he goes on a lecherous search for her. easy choice. we get to sit in a pub boozing and leer at women for 'work''.
might sound simple, but we had to do everything in camera. no editing. no post production. shooting sequentially. record. stop. record. stop. the tutor did not be kind, and let us rewind over mistakes or bad takes. as you can see, we got around the need for titles and end credits by holding up hand scrawled signs to camera. Nik was the salacious star, Chris and I handled the technical stuff. Chris directing, I co-directed and handled sound (music). I chose three songs from my iPhone. an Ennio Morricone piece from A few Dollars More that set the eerie mood of the opening shots, him seeing the article. close-up on eyes. licking lips. inside the pub I picked Temptation by Heaven 17 for shots of Nik seeing the barmaid Shelly. she kindly took part as long as we promised not to put her on a porn site on the internets (I'll put her up on isanyoneup.com right after I've finished writing this). I can't believe she let us do a close-up low angle shot on her bum as she walked up the stairs.
we finished with the reveal he was lusting after a pint of beer all along and not the girl, but finished with the only words in the film, "thank you. cum again any time" said suggestively by Shelly as he walks out of the pub in a long shot. Nik improvised and raised his arm in the air as my third song choice, Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds played over the final shot and credits. yes. total homage to Breakfast Club and John Hughes.
it was a fun learning process for us and good preparation for the real shoot, handling professional equipment worth over 12k next month. our film will be exhibited publicly from May to December to over 100,000+. I've been told I'm the "wordy one" in the group, so I've got to write a script for it this weekend, somehow sculpting Nik's inspired but messy idea. so, no pressure.
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 doesn't she have the prettiest knickers? I love you. you make me the happiest.
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 in class this week I learnt all about the rule of thirds, framing, composition and Dutch angles. so, I went down to the river, ignored everything I'd been taught and just watched the tide. I put this photo up on my tumblr of disposable thoughts and the creations of others. I thought it'd slip under the radar, but it got 30+ reblogs and likes. so, perhaps it's not total shit and is journal worthy.
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you shall be my roots and
I will be your shade,
though the sun burns my leaves
you shall quench my thirst and
I will feed you fruit,
though time takes my seed
when I'm lost and can tell nothing of this earth
you will give me hope
my voice you will always hear
my hand you will always have
for I will shelter you
and I will comfort you
even when we are nothing left,
not even in death,
I will remember you
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burst like a star
for here there is no place
that does not see you
you must change your life
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 I'm that guy standing in the middle of the road in his pyjamas that you peer at from behind your curtains. lost to West Ham, lost my mind. I just like untouched snow. no footprints, but mine.
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 when a girl surprises you with 20 cupcakes she's trying to say something, like "good luck on your first day" or "fatten up"?
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  I'm a student again! I've been accepted into Rave, a design/digital media school. the building looks like a cross between Swiss cheese, a zebra and a beehive. I didn't think I'd get a place, so many applied. happy.
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 tonight I'm without my telescope, up here with you and just my naked eye. craning our necks to the night sky. fingers interlocked. gripping tight, silent and unbuttoned. I'd launch you into the stars with my lips, a constellation of freckles to explore. the rain cannoning down...
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 this film was a human wrecking ball. absolutely destroyed me. made me think of the girl I saw it with, the girl I lived with, the girl I chose not to be with, all those girls I was never really with or allowed myself to be and the girl I am with.
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and I hope she knows you only like the beginnings of things.
I'm going away now. I'll see you soon, I hope.
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 - outofprintclothing.com
they removed Catcher. why? Salinger's uppity estate? just as I was about to splurge. how grim.
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I saw a poem in ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=91.7) thepinkhotel years ago and I'd never been able to find it again. I was pretty sure it had the words "park bench alone" in it and it was the best poem I'd ever read. I finally found it. I'd idealised it and it's not as perfect as I remember, as with most things. I bet you can't guess who it's by without googling it.
this tired life
this dusty dream
these April nights
this thunder in a paper cup
all the old ladies alone in rooms
working crossword puzzles
the dead dogs of forever crushed with lolling tongues
the parched innards of mountains aching to scream
what is this gruelling nonsense?
is it the worm crawling toward no paradise?
the scissor in a closed drawer?
young girl giggling and lost in their flesh?
the night and the the day or the day and then the night?
the hammer? the saw?
the mirror which swings open?
what about the dark streets of Dublin?
the last page of the book
the green park bench alone
the last necktie
the last footstep behind you
the incomplete sob of darkness
a wingless bird waiting
a druid in the wasted light
a drunk in the gutter
the singing of fools
the volcano laughing
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 "'mb' is a dear friend of mine. a writer of sorts...at least he used to be.
gloomy i suppose, but that's what english weather will do to you!"
flickr.com/photos/visus/353534759
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 my old wind chime. he's in a better place now. he's found a good home. goodbye moon.
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 I went to my second ballet tonight, second ballet of the year actually, after 29 years of no ballet at all. I saw The Nutcracker. I took mum as one of her Christmas presents. I was a little apprehensive at first, as it was introduced for some inexplicable reason by some fag winner from that reality tv shit X-Factor, so my heart sank and I started playing Words With Friends on my phone like the aloof elitist snob I am. once he'd finished singing Silent Night and something else about god and angels, the real show began!
I was so impressed by the set designs and lighting. if I had seen this as a child, I think I might have believed in dreams becoming real. I might even have liked it more than Romeo and Juliet. I loved the rats running across the floor, the magican's tricks, the way the xmas tree overtook the stage and the old fogey dance. I want to take a girl to go see Swan Lake with me someday. to complete my set. am I missing any other big ballets I should know? I thought I was quite cultured, but I realise I know nothing about this corner of the musical world.
I bonded with the couple sitting next to me and mum at intermission. the man kept falling asleep and his wife kept nudging him. he said he preferred coming to this arena to watch Federer beat Nadal in the tennis. he mentioned liking seeing "that blind tenor bloke Andrea Bocelli" tho, and I made some wisecrack asking if there's a guide dog on stage with him, and he was belly laughing during very shhhh moments. a fine night. a quite lovely Christmas, too. I just wanted to make it special for my mum.
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 would I rock you to sleep?
would you tell me all the secrets you don’t need to keep?
would I still miss you?
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 There's a certain orchid that looks exactly like a certain insect, so the insect is drawn to this flower, its double, its soul mate, and wants nothing more than to make love to it. And after the insect flies off, spots another soul-mate flower and makes love to it, thus pollinating it. And neither the flower nor the insect will ever understand the significance of their lovemaking. I mean, how could they know that because of their little dance the world lives? But it does. By simply doing what they're designed to do, something large and magnificent happens. In this sense they show us how to live - how the only barometer you have is your heart. How, when you spot your flower, you can't let anything get in your way.
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though cold like you,
unmov'd, and silent grown
I have not yet forgot
myself to stone
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<--
