Fast Forgotten

When I arrived they were fasting.  Only bread and water for seven days, they said, to purify their bodies and center their minds.  Codify their spirits. They'd embarked on the journey together that morning, and I immediately felt pressure to join them.  Mostly, I think they were broke, and had been partying for months, and the constant heat of the desert sun had scrambled them just a bit, collectively. They showed me where I could throw my bag, and I tossed my threadbare backpack down in the corner of someone’s room - I’m not sure whose.  They offered me a glass of water, and I accepted.  Someone pulled a pitcher from an otherwise empty fridge READ MORE

By | 2014-10-01T03:51:53+00:00 05/28/14|

Nice Moves

How do you make a short film about something you know very little about?   For that matter, why would you...? Way back in January, we made a promise to ourselves to make more stuff.  Not just commercials and content we're being paid to make, not even just films and videos, but things of all shapes and sizes.  And so this year we've found ourselves seeking out collaborators - fellow creators - for inspiration, ideas, and opportunities to learn and explore. In turn, we've been dismissing excuses and objections that usually get in the way of creation; the voices that sound from inside our heads, and from other people's mouths, saying things like "why would you READ MORE

By | 2017-05-04T16:39:47+00:00 06/25/13|Tags: , , , |

we had no words

last night I dreamed that we were dogs. we had no words but we owned the world. we ran into the fields where we followed our noses. when night fell, the grass and flowers were a nest for us. beneath the stars we were together, and it did not occur to us to wonder if it had not always been so. when the sun rose, I wandered, alone. I came upon a river, far away. the water was cold and I swam in it. I caught fish in my teeth and tore them into pieces. in the dappled light, you did not follow. you heard sounds and smelled smells. the tree whispered. the log rotted. READ MORE

By | 2013-05-15T19:13:54+00:00 05/15/13|

Solo Artist

The other heroes had gone out to lunch.  Thor advocated King Buffet on Highland, and the others generally follow his lead.  Sure, the price is right, but I don’t like to unmask in public, especially not so close to the theater: it’s bad for business.  So, I bought a smoothie and walked over toward Hollywood High School. Foot-traffic picked up as I returned, so I hustled back to the strip, eager to make some money.  I saw Kevin through a crowd of tourists, posing with the Joker and Michael Jackson, high-fiving a couple of villains.  What kind of bum shows up after lunch? He’s got fat calves, he’s pigeon chested, and he’s lazy. Even if READ MORE

By | 2015-09-23T01:03:34+00:00 05/07/13|Tags: , , , , |

Forbidden Apple

When my brother lived in Bushwick, Brooklyn over 10 years ago, it was the only place in New York City that a struggling painter could find a space big enough to accommodate an easel and a bed without having to fold up one to make room for the other.  At night, rats nibbled his toes.  His landlord was a cat burglar.  His neighbors were junkies.   And when I drove out from Madison, Wisconsin to assist him in moving back to the Midwest, into an apartment that I shared with a few of my closest friends, despite the fact that I loved what I knew of New York, I had the distinct impression that I was READ MORE