The Kindness of Strangers

_posted in art | dayedayerocks | filmschool | lessons learned | 24 January 2011

At the opening of the year I emailed an artist whose work I really wanted to feature in my latest short film: Lwa, A Chorus of Voices. We finally connected Saturday morning and it was one of those rare moments you have with a complete stranger that makes you feel safe in sharing your art, safe that people understand what you're creating.

Cozbi Cabrera creates munecas, lovely handmade dolls with vintage fabrics, clothing, quilts and illustrates. I linked her to the Kickstarter page to give her a bit of background and why a film about Haitian Vodou. While she was excited about my "voice" and what I'm exploring, she was hesitant to share a muneca for a film about Haitian Vodou.

At the very moment she said it, it clicked in my head that it's one of the stereotypes that I never honestly thought about... Vodou Dolls. There, of course, are many stereotypes about Haitian Vodou I actively want to counter in my film, by not even addressing them. I'm so far from removed from them, but the truth is, the majority of what people know about Vodou are the stereotypes. And Cozbi's experienced that. I saw the muneca, as something precious to my protagonist, Odessa. It would be a treasured thing given to her as a child or gifted to her on her 16th birthday. Cozbi's experience with vintage dolls has been wrapped in people's stereotypes of race and culture. Her concern is more than valid.

As an artist I completely respect her point of view. It goes directly to my own thoughts about creating and what responsibility one has to what they create and how it lives in the world. It also speaks to holding one's ground on what they will actively participant in as an artist. Yes, I could have just ordered the doll and not given her any inkling of what I was planning to do with it, but what kind of artist would I be in that situation? I would get what I want at the price of another artist's convictions.

She explained that in the past people quickly attached a meaning to the dolls (e.g. Vodou dolls), when they have real meaning on their own. This I can appreciate. This I can understand. So no custom made Cozbi muneca. However, she offered up a wonderful solution. Cozbi will be designing a quilt to decorate Odessa's bedroom, a quilt created with vintage fabrics. For Odessa, it can be a tie to her past, her family and her country. For me, it's connecting with a like minded artist, finding support in unknown places.

Cozbi's willingness to find a solution to help me in creating my vision was heartening. It was a necessary moment when I'm stuck in the the realities and details of filmmaking, like hiring crew, dealing with fundraising, all the while holding fast to the voice of my film. It's a nice reminder that in all the extra stuff, the universe gives back just a little to remind you that you're doing just fine.

No matter where you go, there you are.

_posted in dayedayerocks | filmschool | lessons learned | 21 November 2010

My first quarter at UCLA's MFA Film Production/Directing program is about to end. It started about 9 weeks ago, but it honestly feels like 9 months.

The program consists of 21 students total, with 18 directing students and 3 cinematographers. The program is traditionally 4 years long, a few have completed it in three, there are a few who are "5th year MFAs." Our first year is highly structured, our classes are picked for us, we're placed in shooting groups and you deal with the crew you're given.

_open 24/7/365

The thing I've had to come to terms with the most is the fact that this thing I love, this thing that I've always made time for, be it the weekend or a few hours a week, is now my 24/7/365. Film is no longer the thing I want to do or the future plan, it's the thing I'm actively doing. It's absolutely amazingly exciting and it's fucking frightening. It's a huge paradigm shift to take hold of and be comfortable with the dream being a reality. So instead of finding time to write or edit or film on a Saturday for a few hours, I should in all honestly be spending at least twelve hours a day on learning and perfecting my craft. This is my job--my only job. Nine weeks in and I'm still struggling with truly understanding that situation.

A few of my classmates and I had this conversation and it's always good to commiserate on the fears wrapped in such a wonderful adventure. I love that there's a classmate who is constantly trying to figure out how to not let film school consume ever part of her life. She never misses an opportunity to ask the next professor or TA, how they balance film school and having a life and everyone says the same thing, "you won't have a life." Bless her heart, she's actively trying to keep a balance in her life and I dig that about her.

_opportunity cost

In economics there's this concept of passing up the next best choice when making a decision, basically giving up the choice of one thing in order to obtain another. That thing you gave up is the opportunity cost. For years I've been struggling with what and who I left behind for the possibility of film school. I left Georgia with no guarantees, only a dream and a shit ton of determination. How I've felt about what I gave up changes as I get older. While I'm excited about film school, realizing I'll be living in LA for another 4 years away from the people that make me the happiest--the people that make up my family, is a hard pill to swallow. I've been in LA for 6 years and I've been fortunate to meet some great and caring people, but my ATL fam is comprised of people who know my narrative, all my dirty little secrets, most embarrassing and joyous moments and whom I trust.

I was hanging with some 2nd and 3rd year female MFAs and the conversation ranged from the craft to having families while working in film. Four years is a long time to put your life on hold, even for something you love, weighed against the female realities of a family and a life outside of film. The thing you love shouldn't be a roadblock to a full and complete life. Filmmaking does not allow for balance in your life, so you have to find it wherever you can.

_collaboration

Filmmaking is pure collaboration. It's a level of collaboration that I've never truly experienced. It's been a learning experience to say the least. There have been a number of teachable moments, experiences and observations, the most important:

Number 01.

not everyone shares a respect for the process, so make sure that you do - crewing is honest work, so respect it. the physical labor of filmmaking is what makes filmmaking possible, point blank.

Number 02.

having a work ethic is equally important than any creativity or grand stories you want to tell. we all have a voice, take the time to respect the technical aspects of filmmaking if you want to direct

Number 03.

respecting the people you work with even when you don't like them is an absolute must

Number 04.

adding please, thank you and you're welcome to your vocabulary is imperative (you'd be surprised how often people don't bother saying them)

Number 05.

communication means making sure everyone understands what's going on, it does not mean speaking louder or more often, that's just making noise.

_out of sight, out of mind

Wrapped up in all this excitement is a bit of disappointment. I had hoped that this ultimate goal, the outcome of a long journey, which was shared with my closet friends, would be something I would ultimately share with those same people. It's hard for people to understand how disconnected this program makes you feel from your own life. It's been financially, physically and emotionally draining and it's only the beginning. This gets harder. Having an emotional sounding board is imperative.

Hubert Sauper, director of Darwin's Nightmare, said "you want to have people around you who are intellectual mirrors." That's no easy task. I always felt lucky to have that, but sitting in class for 12 hours a day, spending what free time you have either with actors rehearsing or writing or editing, you disconnect from your real life and reconnecting seems a chore, on both sides.

_next quarter

Winter 2011 is right around the corner. We've gotten our shooting schedules. I've combed over budgets from previous years, started looking for funding, started collected creatives, trying to figure out what I can cut from my script to lose those two extra pages and I'm hoping I'll get out of LA for a bit before it all kicks off. Wish me luck.

_soundcheck: quantic: an announcement to answer

Social networks were killing my social graces

_posted in dayedayerocks | lessons learned | 19 September 2010

"Two Keys"    painting credit: Daye Rogers

Recently I deleted my social network accounts, Facebook, Foursquare, Last.fm, Twitter, Tumblr, etc.

I was becoming that guy who, when you meet up with him has to Twitter, Foursquare and/or Facebook the experience in the present, that guy that constantly texts, tweets or otherwise transmits when you thought the two of you were actually in conversation. Having lunch with that guy is always a chore and always an annoyance. Lunch, dinner or a picnic with that guy seems more like a moment of intrusion on his virtual world, rather than hanging out with a friend.

Don't get me wrong. People who knew me when I first started university, know me as "the girl with the camera," so the idea of intruding in on personal space is nothing new to me. I'm all about the performative nature of images and life itself, but there's something about social networks that can turn that joy of observing and recording your own life into a rude and inconsiderate act.

It was a gradual progression for me. I went from the cellphone staying in my bag, to posting from the bathroom to just pulling out the phone at the table and just having at it, which has always irked me to no end when my lunch or dinner partners do the same.

The moment of truth for me, as they say, occurred while I was home recently. I was sitting in the den getting some work done and I heard the crack of the bedroom door open and out ran the most awesome of three year olds from his nap. He beamed a charming smile as he beelined for me, gave me a hearty hug and a proper baby slobber kiss on the check. He then turned, without missing a beat and picked up his water gun, pointed it at me, closed one eye and proceeded to shoot me. The disappointment on his face when he realized the gun was empty was spectacular. The shock and happiness at watching me fill it with water was priceless. The laughing scream that followed as he ran from the stream of water that caught him on the side of the head was gratifying. That moment was real, it was wrapped up in all these amazing emotions of love and contentment that turned into tickled pink.

I was experiencing a very real moment and it didn't seem real unless I stopped the moment and posted it on not only Facebook, but Twitter it as well. I had become that guy. As long as I posted to social networks as an afterthought I felt it was alright, I wasn't putting my present life on hold to connect with people who weren't there, disconnecting from the people who were.

_insincere friendship

I had about 250 Facebook friends, and this was with me being a bit selective. While working at an Apple retail store, which was one of my worst employment experiences ever, I met people who face to face were rude, inconsiderate and who didn't interest me in the least and I'm sure the feeling was mutual. However, these same people sent me friend requests. Why would I want people I don't want in my real life in my virtual life? Needless to say I ignored those requests.

Facebook does a great job of making me feel obligated to interact with people I rarely even speak to. There's this pressure to perform the actions of friendship, when I honestly don't feel the desire to do so. I've culled my friend list down to 151 people. I was "friends" with people I honestly had very little interest in or absolutely didn't like or just lost touch with and really didn't mind that I had. Friendship is something I take quiet seriously and it seems that social networks allow for a frivolity of it that I find troubling.

I was becoming an insincere friend. I'd rather not be a friend, than an insincere one.

_reconnecting

I've recreated a few of the accounts I had, namely Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr. A friend of mine always positions social networks as a database or history of his life. It's a valid point but honestly, I never went back and tracked my own content, the music I listened to, the tweets I twittered or even the Facebook posts I posted. I use to blog for that reason. If it's more personal, I keep journals for that reason.

While away from the various social networks, there were moments when I thought "I should tweet that." The fact that my account didn't exist anymore gave me the needed few seconds of pause to realize, actually what I just thought wasn't worth tweeting or sharing. It was an internal thought, that may be brought up in conversation in the future, but the impulse to share random thoughts makes very little sense to me now. It's always good to get back to sensibilities that represent the better part of yourself.

_soundcheck: the xx: xx

March's Lessons Learned

_posted in dayedayerocks | lessons learned | 29 March 2008

Number 01.

Using dull knives makes cooking more like a chore than a joy.

Number 02.

Carrying a 4.5lb camera for 5 hours straight feels more like carrying a 50lb weight. But that end of the day pain feels oh so good.

Number 03.

Money (or lack of money) makes most of your decisions for you.

Number 04.

Practicing patience only makes me more impatient.

Number 05.

Spring cleaning does not mean shifting shit from one room to another.

Number 06.

Being right isn't always what it's cracked up to be.

Number 07.

Being behind a camera makes me forget everything else. Putting the camera down is like being thrown back into chaos.

January's Lessons Learned

_posted in dayedayerocks | lessons learned | 03 February 2008

I figured I'd post what lessons I learned each month. I think this will be a great reminder of what my year looked like.

Number 01.

It's interesting who's willing to just listen and who's not. Trust issues exist for a reason. That was a hard lesson to learn, yet I learned it.

Number 02.

Running hard and fast is a good idea until you're a few feet from the end. It seems I never have the energy to finish but somehow I do. Being a champ when you set unrealistic goals only makes you want to set more unrealistic goals and be a champ time and time again. Great lesson learned.

Number 03.

Saying, "No," is a lesson I learned many moons ago, but rarely practice. It's been sometime since I actually said, "No," but I can feel it stuck in my throat, itching to come out. Hopefully it will make its debut in the following weeks.

Number 04.

Waiting for something long desired is only part of the process. If it turns out well then you walk away proud that you were able to be patient and feel deserving. If it turns out sour, you walk away proud that you even tried.

Number 05.

Sometimes the computer needs to be turned off.

_vidcheck: james cameron: the terminator