narrative progressions....

(w)Holy Moses

I'm looking at pixels and all I see is your eyes. Maybe it's the fat lips on filament that I'm craving most afternoons. Sometimes your face looks smashed. Sometimes it looks cleaner than elbows. I don't see those ridges and revines past my hat rim. Did I really know back when you were giving lip hair and height measurements? I've grown to not lunch shorter than you.

Thank you for telling me what not to do last week.

My ankle is better with zest and pepper. Your face is redder with Bengay. Buckle up and drive me off the deep end of the Jacuzzi sunrise. Summer breeze had me hanging in the window on a Friday night.

Let me know every thing's alright.

That smile waiting in the kitchen, butter and warm won't leave my pancaked fingertips and focal points. I'll relearn my body with the black and blue. It's just my contact endorsing moisture partial blindness. You might have to put a bag over her porcelain head and close your lids and think of me.

You can be my hero

then I put a bag over her head and closed my eyes and thought of you...

"The film of tomorrow will be made by adventures."

In this essay "You are all witness in this trial- French Cinema is withering under the burden of false legends," Truffaut reacts to the cinema of the time, May 1957. He's striving for the future, he's talking about us.

The film of tomorrow seems to me therefor more personal even than a novel individual and autobiographical, like a confession or like a personal diary Young filmmakers will express themselves in the first person and will tell us what happened to them: it might be the story of their first love or their most recent one, their finding a political consciousness, a travel journal, an illness, their military service, their marriage, their most recent vacation, and it will necessarily be likable because it will be true and new.

Welcome to indy cinema. Tickets are 4 bucks and we have organic popcorn from a machine we bought at the thrift store. What is this film that I am making? It is my love story with the city, or through the eyes of others who I have fallen in love with. That's where the previous selfish line comes from. But would Truffaut say I am selfish? Maybe I should be French.

The film of tomorrow will not be made by functionaries behind a camera but by artist for whom shooting a film constitutes a formidable and exalting adventure. The film of tomorrow will resemble the person who made it and the number of spectators will be proportionate to the number of friends the filmmaker has.

This is when advertising your films on facebook and myspace comes in handy. This is also congruent to the activities of YouTube. Sending links to your friends of the video that you made in response to the new Britney Spears fuck up. And then the loop begins.

Where from this does my loop begin? The loop from the gateway to the the roof, recycled through the free ways and the bridges until expelled out towards the ocean. Where does one sit, stare, dream, masturbate, touch, pick some one else's nose? Yea, I will admit to being guilty of taking experience as a generator. Is this movie about me or LA or our existence together? The city is trying to kill me. The city is trying to devourer me. The city can't stand to have me or let me leave.

The film of tomorrow will be an act of love.

escape_2_exist_exist_2_escape...

Here is the mash up of the films of la.

Cleaning up..

Here is the mash up that I made for Entourage and Wattstax. I was drawn to the position of the voyeur camera.

reactions to love in lala land

here are the responses from the video that was posted before:

yes it is selfish.;.) but also full of humor. the one of the rare ones in the class that could go to absurdity.
i think you owe to yourself to blow this piece beyond recognition. it is not crazy enough yet, but has the ingredients.
look into Dada...
i prefer the exterior shots over more tasteful pictures of personal interiors which has a hint of petite bourgeoisie. fine, whatever it is, you can blow it out of proportion. thanks, it is courageous.

by Orhan Ayyüce


Tittsburgh. This piece is really great. Silicone city ... editorially it is really nice. The use of montage is pretty effective in delivering a story, a reality and ultimately somewhat of a position. I like the conjured subject matter (marriage, divorce, etc.)

I think while the photography is effective in its human eye quality "wash" it could have been a bit more worked out (possibly through more thorough scouting followed by more involved storyboarding). The points of view taken up are nice though.

The interior of the apartment seems to carry no role. Maybe the way the building was managed (slightly a la Polanski) could have given a clue.

The sound mix is very nice, but the mastering could have been worked out a bit more. The bathroom scene is a bit out of range.

That said, it is beautifully recursive, very poetic, has a side of humor without relying on it is to the point. In and out.

!!

j.a.

parti me en dos

As I am collecting and sifting through the accumulation of sites/times/actions, I feel more and more as a detective. I am on the hunt for the narrative, where does and how the cards fall? What is the order of the events of this roller coaster through this boardwalk of neon, salt, shit, and fire escapes.

What are these autonomous agents/occurrences and how can I use them as a kit of parts for decoding this narrative? A possibility that I am entertaining is an old favorite, sentence diagramming.

Back track flap jack

I forgot to post this up here. This is the first catalyst product that I wrote on a field trip to the Hollywood Reservoir. To explain how I write poetry: it's a collage of words. Ideally it's just ink on page, pixels background(0). The meaning is what you make of it. When we reviewed it in studio Juan Azulay interpreted it as a suicide. Another valid attempt to escape in the land of drift.

Hawk bite

Forget those cacophonies that I sucked out of your hot sauce gums twisted and sistered under the Hollywood sign. I choked on cellophane and gelatin while catching splinters in my knees. Your taco tainted tongue left lime stains on my upper inner thigh.

I was one of the first.

Dandy candy lovers on the carousel poles look up for loose light bulbs and Edison flytraps. Polaroids caught up with infinity and unbuttoned my jaw. The stories in your pockets tasted inky and dry. It was petrified lashes that dragged me to tears.

I haven’t laughed for you since December.

Dead berries on a crooked branch hit my diaphragm with more bounce than nights you traded me. Hold on to that token keeping the laundry machines bulimic and warm. Maybe in an hour you can spit serotonin back in to my aggressive spores. It’s all relatives around the toe of the lamb ass boots. Won’t you hold my breath while

I can’t remember when to leave.

is it obtuse or just middle age divorced?

In review of the roof typology previously posted, here are the pin pointed oddities/objects/obscurities. The obtuse painted yellow.

Let us continue the building of the sentence. We have nouns lets get some verb-baggage.
ACTION ACTION.


I have found some list of verbs to pull from.

Once specimen is a list of verbs for photographers. The other is the infamous one by Richard Serra.

only when he was near enough to touch her..

only when i was near enough to touch la...




collecting and inspecting the possible subjects, the autonomous objects. what are their peculiarities, their potentiality of a 3rdness, a juxtaposition of realities to a new one?


language is made of structures: noun verb adjective
autonomous agents in the collage of ink and sonic impressions.

Here are the specimens for the rooftop typology.

brautigan to banham

The Beautiful Poem

I go to bed in Los Angeles thinking
about you.

Pissing a few moments ago
I looked down at my penis
affectionately.

Knowing it has been inside
you twice today makes me
feel beautiful.

3a.m.
January 15, 1967

-richard brautigan.






this might be what I am trying to say.

ask for a word and get the world

The following is an email that I send Juan to explain this more:


Exist to escape and escape to exist. this is the broad concept statement... super super broad...

(that was the one liner, wasn't it funny?did i hear a knee slap?)

There is also an undertone of nesting I'd like to throw in there about the similarities of pittsburgh and los angeles. (clearly im pulling from personal things here since thats what i know..... or experiences that i can translate to other bodies) Certain things, specifically things downtown and some of the public staircases of silverlake relate back to PGH. Little jems ive been falling on here such as the angel's flight (!!!) and bridges in general and the industrial and dirty nature of it. I feel like this could be expressed very stealthily, aka books photos props teeshirts costume accent, etc.

attached is an image of what i think the title might be. its a little cliche but hopefully in a good way.i am picking with complete consciousness of the ability for it to be brushed off for being something shallow. one could say that i pulled inspiration from the paris, je t'aime film but i think it was rooted a bit before.

how we got there:
i was thinking about the idea of myths, the myth of los angeles, who/what the hell is los angeles?
what are the myths that i know of"
"i can make it if i go to la"
"i can become a star"
"i could be beautiful in la"
"sunshine"
"highway and cars, traffic"
"people are fake"
misc. predjudices...

how/when can they be disproved..

what do people relate to (hints from mondo cane) life= food+sex+death, another point of describing this city, all points are escape routes (food death sex)

food
is the catalyst that leads to escaping the physical body encasements, the flesh with fast food ports. fast food stops in and out jack in the box taco trucks king taco burrito king "foodies" korean food and then the antifascist of the ingestion, lipo and work out stations and tread mills

death
and the avoidance of it. that is like collagen shots, implants, facial burns and lifts, etc,
also death as a way of escaping, aka that suicide thing but also the gangs... (note homeboy industries)
is it suicide to move to la to try to make it? in the poem, i didnt feel like it alluded to suicide but as i said before, they are just words and are up for all sorts of interpretation. but "i cant remeber when to leave" the last line, i feel is a trap right there. your stuck in the loop like the records at st. vincent de paul and all the used up actresses that you looked for "angela nothing".

sex
porn/craigslist/ the bad dating scene here/ the perverse/ the isolated/ the intoxicating/escaping yourself through someone else's saliva/ escaping work or another parameter that is inlaid in your lifestyle that builds walls of restriction/ sex it self is an escape of fluids/ escape of desires/ fantasies/ inner freaks/los angeles, where is your sex hole?

also.. why "i love you, los angeles" specifically. when i drive home in the morning from some adventures, i find myself moved to scream it in the car. crazy right? but when your driving over the bridge or the 4th or 3rd street exist off the 110 and you rise through the trees.. even when driving on 6th from the west over 110 in to down town .. its like your flying..or when im riding my bike downtown at 3 am down 4th/5th/6th street and you have people talking to you and its cold enough to make you feel changing weather again and your a little drunk and finding you are the only person out... its your city.../ there's these moments that ive encountered that make induce this admiration i feel for here. i didnt love it at first. i was weirded out. the moments. nothing really lasts forever here. people dont stay. its all transition, much like how the landscape was shifting previous the concrete control.

i want to expose the moments at sunrise and sunset.. i know theres that movie thing with ethan hawk(?) the before sunset or what ever.. ive never seen them yet. i dont want this to be like that regardless.

thanks for bringing up the heterotopias because its going to have an influence on this project.. ive used it for 2 other projects and i feel 3time could be fun.


ok! there you have it. for now. thats where i am .. im collecting info and shooting sites and trying to conjure up a plot. sorry it its too long and disconnected. i wrote it out of order and edited simultaneously.

sleep with me and ill make you pancakes...

Where does this come from? This love? This fatal attraction? Is it because it is constantly moving, changing, and expressing its internal resistance? Is it because you can never have her? The object of desire, Los Angeles? Is that why LA is a woman, because as soon as you start to adore her she runs away and freaks out to change your perception of her? So let's start this sonnet of "where do I love thee", Ladie A.

Where:
The other spaces, the heterotopias, the space and time, the travel, the traffic, that which connects you and transcends laws and attached to the educated names.

-rooftops
-bridges
-on and off ramps
-on bikes
-legend roads (sunset/mullholland/broadway), the shoe strings of the city
-beaches


When:

-with the sunrise
-sunset
-rain
-from 3-6 am when everything is quiet enought to feel like the desert in the heart of the city
-"dead" to the shallow and vibrant to perceptive
-when I am no where.

When/Where do I hate the city:
Excess. This is the city of waste. There is abnormal amounts of excess in total spectrum. From the celebrity to the Chinatown streets.
Excess police brutality, excess paparazzi, excess dieting...

Exist to escape:: Escape to Exist

We come to Los Angeles to find a new life, new sunrise. We are all immigrants. We are all foreigner, aliens, robots. This is the new horizon. This is the baptism of the diry life style of the old east, the cold east.

“I came to make it in LA”

Drive across the country to salvation to the city of angels. Where are those angels? Am I an angel now that I am here? What am I? Part of this myth? Part of a new ecology? New because it is new to me and my info receivers but old and self reliant. Is it the flux that cant be contained? Is that why LA is a woman? Or is it more? Beyond feminism and male-ism, beyond gender and sex, its more what makes you fall in love with a place that you can’t wait to leave it? Is there some thing better out there? After you put all your eggs in one basket, move your life, loose your lovers in hopes to find a new terrain. How do you describe a lover to a friend, a stranger a past life,? How do I tell Pittsburgh, my bipolar girlfriend, about Los angels? How can I tell Los Angeles about the October skies over the City of Steel with its fire and brimstone of the blue collar love of materials? Los angels, Pittsburgh is in you. Pittsburgh you have LA. EXPOSE your connections. Show your tits.

clearly, a movie name

I love you, Los Angeles, or the documentation of falling in love with the City of LAh. Is this selfish? Possibly. But if you have love, why not share it? I am falling in love with this city, with Skid Row and its gems, roof tops and overpasses. So, to progress my own adventures, I am planning to make a movie from it.

If only I was as cute as a button as Ms July.
If only we could only learn to love you more.

Watch out for more to come photos.

love in LA LAnd

Welcome to the Fog Bank. The fog bank emerges via those who seek to stalk the ethical force we use to navigate its density. Juan Azulay is guiding us through this fogbank mess, or at least dispersing us like wild spores into the allergy season. We are looking at Los Angeles, LA LA LAnd. Above is the is a short still movie that I made for studio with some stories nested and no story at all. Watch it with out the sound first and then with sound for the full cinematic effect. I have no need to tell the story, but feel free to tell me your interpretations.

Another product from studio so far is a mashup with Entourage and Wattstax. This is a diagram of the use of the voyeuristic camera. Entourage, as a tv show, has many angles for the camera positions that are very similar to documentary shots. Documentaries, I have observed, are more constrained due to the lack of choreography and scripting. I would post it but I can't seem to compress the file.

I also did a mash up on Existing to Escape::Escape to Exist, mixing multiple movies about Los Angeles.