Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: La Poo Poo, Ernest, Pirates of the Caribbean, Johnny Depp, Arizona Dream, Mika, movies, costume, references, summer, mom, directing, psychology, screenplay, SAT, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Julian Schnabel, Before Night Falls, Lieutenant Victor, Bon Bon, creativity, Trader Joe's, dragon, dragon lady, We Are Golden
Oh what fun it is to scan SAT practice tests onto my computer and try to write a screenplay, hey! Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. That has always irritated me. Whatever, it’s what I’m doing right now – scanning SAT practice tests and working on my first feature-length screenplay. I read it today and realized how much I relied on dialogue. No! Not good! Stop! Not good! You’re burning all the food, the shade, the rum!
To expand on my praise for “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” yesterday, I would just like to say this. Julian Schnabel, I must watch more of your movies. For many reasons not limited to because Johnny Depp dresses like a woman in “Before Night Falls” and also plays Lieutenant Victor. What a nasty man is Lieutenant Victor.
If I get any of this wrong, please don’t tar and feather me. It’s been a while since I maintained my library of Johnny Depp trivia and my computer is in no state for me to check it quickly. I can imagine the neurons devoted to Johnny Depp trivia in my brain (if there is such a thing – which would be kind of sad) dying one by one from lack of use. Ah psych 101. The things you teach me. Like endorphins, which made me do the Drew Barrymore Syndrome in class. I hope no one saw that.
“Gives one the feeling of being in love.” “You don’t say…”
It’s the little things in life that make us smile. Like Johnny Depp references. And eating a whole bag of kettle corn before you realize that you’ve eaten a whole bag and emptied the equivalent of a gallon of sugar into your system.
While in the bathroom, I thought back to the moment I realized that I wanted to be a director. 11-years-old, creating a tour of Mesopotamia video for school. We didn’t have the money or the means to create an actual ziggurat, so we printed a picture out and moved our camera toward it. To simulate a long journey, we filmed back and forth on the same seven-foot stretch of hedge, with my friend’s little brother panting behind the camera for sound effects. It was impulsive thinking, it was creative, because we didn’t have anything.
Watching the extra features on “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly”, they did the same thing – but more sophisticated. A good use of camera angles and colors excited me more than a good story. It felt like finally, this was art. As I’ve mentioned, “Arizona Dream” felt similar to this, as did “Across the Universe”.
The summer has taken a turn for the better. Tomorrow Miya and Nobu are coming over for an 80’s movie marathon, and by the looks of it Club Retrospect has been approved. Huzzah!
Sorry for the lack of Ernest & La Poo Poo updates. It’s been difficult for me to even find time for my own blog, I’ll really try to find time for theirs but I can’t promise anything.
My mom and I have been hanging out because really, there’s no other option. But it’s fun when there are only two of you because you’re more free to make your own plans. I could never have my friends over if my dad was home, and especially if the house had not stayed somewhat clean. Which it wouldn’t have if my sisters were home.
I can’t wait for tomorrow, and I can’t wait to go to Trader Joe’s today and find more awesome possible birthday foods. Mostly, I can’t wait to fail my first psych test and realize that maybe I should study.
I just realized that “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” has unseated PotC as my second-favorite movie. To be honest, PotC wasn’t my second-favorite, it was only there as an obligation to acknowledge how prevalent it’s been in my life. I could never bring myself to put something before it on a list besides “Arizona Dream”, though. Congrats. I think I’ll watch PotC now…while no one’s home.
I’m busy working on the dragon costume anyway. Oh yeah, I went to Halloween Club and asked for a dragon costume. They showed me a dragon lady costume. I know it’s nothing, they were just trying to help me out and showing me their only options, but it’s sort of funny. In a racial way…and yet…whatever. It’s just…funny. I can’t explain it.
Costume-making isn’t so bad. It’s nice to have something you’re working toward. A goal, I guess, but not necessarily. This stop-motion keeps me optimistic that this summer will not go to waste.
In other news, MIKA’s new single is called “We Are Golden”. Huzzah.
Filed under: sweet dreams are made of this | Tags: Alfred Hitchcock, Arizona Dream, childish, college, dances, death, dream, dreams, fans, financial problems, friends, fun, James Dean, Jerry, Johnny Depp, limits, Miya, money, movies, old, premiere, Public Enemies, raven, reality, road trip, routine, sleep, teenage, theme parks, travel
Okay, enough with the “Alice in Wonderland” thing for right now.
Yesterday, in addition to getting a startling number of views, was the “Public Enemies” premiere. Which I had been planning to go to, but last minute Miya said she couldn’t go. There was no way my dad would let me go alone, so home I stayed. I experienced the premiere through twitter, how revolutionary and exciting. Eventually I ran around my backyard like someone who is mentally ill. My sisters found me and weren’t very comforting. Somehow this led to a game of “cops and robbers”. More like, people trying to be stealthy as they run around the house. It was fun though. Definitely took my mind off the premiere.
Why am I freaking out so much? I guess it’s left over residue from my extreme obsession, during which I also managed to miss every event, even if invited. But on top of that I don’t want to keep passing up these opportunities to see Johnny Depp (and even more than that Jerry, his cool bodyguard) until KABLAMMM they’re both gone and I’m one of those mothers who point at old movies and tell their children, “Oh look! It’s Johnny Depp! He was such a great actor!”
To which their children nod but don’t really believe. How sad.
Or, when Miya and I fulfill our lifelong dream regarding the road trip and a certain “Arizona Dream”. But that would be sad as well, befriending Johnny Depp at the end of his life to bury him in a field of corn in Arizona so he can say “This has been…my Arizona dream.” Oh well. I’m sure the opportunity will come. In any case, I really appreciate that Johnny returned to talk to both sides of the line – he really appreciates his fans.
Anyway, running around like a maniac last night was a lot of fun. That is what life should be, but of course it isn’t. Is it just a phase or am I really someone who wouldn’t be happy with a 9-5 job? Who is happy with a routine? Then again, sometimes I worry about ending up struggling for a living, because I’ve experienced – as we all are right now – financial hardship, and it is like a shackle around your foot. How am I supposed to take summer college programs when they all cost thousands of dollars? How can I experience life, when sadly, money really does make the world go round. I can take joy in small pleasures, but there are some things – like traveling and learning, that cost money.
Perhaps the worst time to not have money is when you’re a teenager. It’s the perfect time to go out and experience a bajillion things. I’ve got college looming ahead like a fatteh cliff. Everything is so optimistic and ideal, ideas pouring out of my brain. And yet I’m limited because my parents are low on money.
In addition to that, there are dances and movies and theme parks to go to with my friends, activities that don’t rank high on my priority list but they are my friends, and I do want to spend time with them.
Teenage years are the time of your life when dreams struggle against reality. Goodness, that was deep.
My sisters are pressuring me to play Clue. Sayonara, Japanese goodbye.
EDIT: Last night I had this Hitchcockian dream, which started out as a fatteh food fest. Anyway, James Dean was in it, and he was being a loner weirdo, but actually he turned out to be a creepy evil man. He called this girl and freaked her out with weird questions, and then she screamed. That scream was ungodly. Then he said something again, and she screamed again and again, but at the wrong times. That’s when I started to realize something was going wrong, and I kind of faded back to reality, when I realized it was some fatteh raven outside going “Caw caw caw caw!” Four times exactly each, and he went on like that for ten minutes. Apparently Shannon heard it in her sleep too, because she slammed her window shut. Twas weird.
Gah…have to go play Clue.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, books, bus, camera, camping, Canada, celebrity, Edward Scissorhands, feature film, fevers, French, friends, fun, funeral, garden party, grades, Harry Potter, idealism, Jack Kerouac, jacket, Johnny Depp, knight, love, Medieval Times, movies, nature, optimism, parents, Pirates of the Caribbean, schedule, sisters, stress, suburbs, summer, Taiwan, talent, The Perfect Storm, The Road, Tim Burton, trip
My brain feels like it’s being wrenched inside my skull. Why is the end of the school year such a rush?
I love my parents. Of course as I grow older I start disagreeing with them on many things, but whether that is just a phase of life or a permanent thing is yet to be seen. I say “old and bitter” because that’s what it seems like, sadly. Maybe when I was little I just wore rose-colored glasses, but I do think they were happier than they are now. As a young person I’m full of optimism and all of that, so I’m determined to be happy. Get back to me in fifteen years and we’ll see.
MUSIC – I get the feeling you just turned fifteen. I’m a bit ahead of you, but if you want to round almost an entire year, then yes, we are currently the same number. My sixteenth birthday’s in August. Holy god, I’m more than halfway to thirty.
Remember when I was going on about how I wanted to do everything in the world? It’s too much now, because I’m trying to cram all these experiences into the next few years. Starting a new club about making life an adventure in a school where everyone is mainly focused on academics is not very encouraging. This club thing is such a dilemna – because I feel like it’s too broad. I wonder if it will succeed. But then I get the feeling that if you keep worrying and bringing up possible obstacles you’ll never even start the project.
I’d love to take a camera and go on a trip by foot throughout the city with my friends, just taking pictures.
And right now I’d even just love to kick back in a bus and take a cross-country road trip.
I think what I need now is a trip somewhere away from the city, preferably with some buddies. But I doubt that’s happening – this is not a city of teenagers who spontaneously visit a forest together. Too many safety regulations. I’d like to see what a world without so many safety regulations would be like – where people could camp at the beach without worrying about security guards telling them to move because they’ll get swept away. And if they do get swept away, so be it. Makes for more dramatic stories. There’s a reason people avoid watching “The Perfect Storm”.
PS. I know that that would be anarchy, but allow me my idealism for this moment.
All this daydreaming has made me slack off in school too. My chem grade just slipped with this last test down to a B. That means I have to get an A on the comp to bring my grade back up, which means studying hard this week. I’m resisting so much right now – but I really don’t have much choice.
I’ve also decided that I’d love a garden lunch for my birthday – if not the entire party. The more I look at it the more my backyard, however small, looks beautiful. Maybe it’s because it’s the closest to free space I’m going to get from this computer. I’ve never spent so much time staring out the window…well, maybe at my old house. But all I saw there was a wall, a tree, my Indian neighbor’s house, and occasionally a bird. I remember I saw a bluejay once, and I wrote a poem about it. Or was it a squirrel?
I do love Cerritos, it’s full of people who are different from any you would find outside, and they really take care to keep this city looking nice. It’s partially a mix of all the old white people who like to wash their vintage cars thrice a day and the Asians who wouldn’t really mess with the city for no reason. It’s an ideal suburb – but that’s exactly what’s wrong with it too. I’m pretty sure Tim Burton lived in a place like this, because he retaliated with “Edward Scissorhands”.
Sometimes I think that talented people are so modest because they really think they’re nothing special, not because it’s an act. I completely understand their denial, because people rave about my writing and I don’t see what’s so special about it. The other day my church buddy told me she was really impressed with my “Angry Asian Man” screenplay – that she had been surprised, especially since I was a fifteen-year-old who hadn’t had much exposure to scripts. I had handed to her the worst draft of “Angry Asian Man” – the one I wrote in a day because all I had was the story to get down. I was embarassed of it and determined it would never see the light of day.
If you don’t think your work is much, sometimes it is better than you think. Especially with writing and such, if you grow up like that, you never think twice about it until you see everyone else’s work. There’s always doubt, is what someone told me. And it’s true but I hate it. Although, I do think it makes for better work.
I need a good jacket – not a hoody, although that would also be nice. Maybe I should return that $30 outfit from Forever 21 and invest in some good basics.
I’ve been reinspired to write. I’m currently in the middle of my first feature-length. I don’t want to spill much, but it includes celebrity, old love, and a funeral. Sound intriguing? Old love does not mean lost love, by the way, because lost implies that they still wanted it to go on. I’m hoping that in the flashbacks the hazy polaroid-reminiscent small town feel will be captured. I’m excited for this one and I really want the script to turn out well. Who doesn’t want their screenplay to turn out well, but this one in particular. It could just be the excitement of beginning a new story. We’ll see.
I’ve also been wanting to read The Road by Jack Kerouac. Yes, yet again inspired by Johnny Depp – but it’s my own interest now. It has to be if I’m to attempt such a fat book. I haven’t read anything that thick since Harry Potter. I don’t know how I’m going to do all this though – there are only so many hours in the day, and I’m planning to get my sleeping schedule ready for next year. That means bed ideally by 9 PM and up at 6:30 AM. I have an extra class next year in the morning and I’m not looking forward to the stress of next year. Can I handle a club on top of that, and possibly work?
Who wants to go camping in my backyard? I have such summerlust right now. I hope that’s not a double entendre. Goodness, tomorrow is crazy Tuesday. Thank God. I need the break.
So, summer, now my favorite time of year. Where are you?
What are your plans? I’m hoping to plunk down with some good books and movies, go out frolicking with buddies, and make some good stuff.
Looking at some of my old Word files, it still amazes me how far I’ve come from full-on PotC fan. Yeah, I still usually know Johnny Depp’s whereabouts, but I can stand on my own now, if that makes sense. If you were to pull PotC out from under me, I wouldn’t fall over. Huzzah.
I feel like going on and on. Permit me, s’il vous plait.
That will never be a jumble of words that mean “please” anymore. It will forever be “if it pleases you (polite)”. I love French class and I hope Madame gets better.
I’d love to go rollerblading at this time of day, when it’s pitch black outside. I’d have flashing neon lights on my rollerblades and annoy the heck out of everyone like the fatteh Mexican on the dune buggy who revs by my house twice within five minutes. I wonder if I’ve lost readers because of the replacement of sarcasm by wishful thinking. I wonder if I ever had readers to begin with. Fatteh lurkers. Can’t say anything though, I am one.
Whell. My sister went to Medievel Times today. Good for her, that she went and devoured chicken like a fatteh while watching fake knights prance about below. Like in our time, some of her classmates fell in love with the knight. I think the same colored one too. I must confess, I did secretly scrutinize him as well, but he fell far short of my liking. Huzzah, because there’s no use for an eleven-year-old lusting after some old man who prances about in a green tunic on a horse who spends most of its time behind a glass window.
And both of them have fevers, which means double hand-washing for me. Hopefully they recover soon. I think Jocelyn’s okay now. When did I start referring to them by name instead of my sister and “my younger younger sister”? I wish I had somewhere to go this summer, like back to Taiwan or Canada. I say back because even though I wasn’t born there it’s still a little bit like home. I wonder if my children will feel the same?
That’s it for tonight. I’ll keep on daydreaming but I’ll keep it to myself for the rest of the night. Huzzah, see you later alligator.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: believe, classical, Doubt, extraordinary, fandom, fansites, happiness, Johnny Depp, life, movies, music, nature, organic, past, Pirates of the Caribbean, prodigy, regret, violin, violinist
I’ve just returned from the spring concert – which answers the question of whether or not I play music. By asking this question, you unleash a long and tragic - only to me – backstory.
Before I was four years old, I started learning to play the piano from the daughter of my parents’ friends. She introduced me to her violin teacher, who decided to take me under his wing, so to speak. Before I go on, I’d really appreciate if you would stow all cynicism under your seat.
I’ll start by saying that when I returned, he told me I had been his favorite student.
I started learning violin when I was four-years-old. My Russian teacher put a lot of effort into me, because he knew I had an excellent ear. Thanks to him, I built up quality sound and technique. The only flaw really was that I had yet to learn music theory. I played by ear. I was, as many people have taken it upon themselves to sarcastically put it, a prodigy of sorts.
Like any young violinist, I hated practicing. Playing made me itch and have to go to the bathroom. My mother, believing in me, ran after me with a clothes hanger, trying various techniques of motivating me to play. She made me play in the kitchen, where I could time my three hours a day practice time with the microwave and my one minute bathroom breaks.
By the time I was nine, my life had been filled with arguments where my parents threatened to stop my lessons, and I would cry. Of course I knew I had talent, and I wasn’t going to let that go, even if I hated violin. One summer my parents decided I should take a break and return in the fall. That break lasted for four years.
Until I was thirteen, I always thought it was my fault, because I had hated practicing. Later I learned that it was also financial.
We finally called him two years ago, and by that time he had moved out of his private lessons in his home and set up a music school. He basically ran the school, taking in only young children with a lot of potential, and everyone else went to other teachers that taught at the school.
He said that he had waited a year for me to return. I know, sounds like a cheesy love story, but bear with me. It’s almost over. It was a waste, because he would have taught me for free, he thought I had that much potential. I always felt a pressure to include musician on my list of possible careers, and frankly that pressure has not gone away. The only difference is that the pressure comes from myself now.
But now he wouldn’t take me as a student because it was too late – I was too old. For two years I was taught by an Armenian teacher, a woman. She was emotional but it’s nice that I learned from a different aspect.
Again, my parents said we were taking a break so we could go to my grandma’s funeral. I haven’t returned from that break. Sometimes I’d like to take things into my own hands and call my teacher. But I no longer have anything to bargain with. She wouldn’t take me back for free now.
Whenever I tell people about violin, they scoff and laugh at how highly I think of myself. I’m not someone who would ever think highly of myself until I know that I am what I say I am. I doubt it every day, I doubt whether I remember my childhood wrong. Once I quit six years ago, I relegated myself to the ranks of average people. People who play violin as a side hobby. I was trained to become a soloist, really.
The thing that bothers me is that no one ever believes me. They say they understand, but always with a pinch of mockery. Just because I’m your friend, because I’m a normal human being, that I’m tangibly here, doesn’t mean that I have to be normal. I think everyone’s hiding something extraordinary in their past. Or in their future. Everything spectacular starts small. Why is it so impossible that your classmate, your friend, was a prodigy, once?
All that “Just believe” stuff makes me want to puke too, but I can’t help but think that it is true, we just don’t acknowledge it.
That’s part of what makes me so determined to stick with violin – because people don’t believe. But time is running out because I keep getting older. Soon playing well will be nothing extraordinary.
Today TheRealFatteh was talking to me at the concert, and she was praising her freshman friend. I heard these words come out of her mouth, “He’s really good, better than y-”. I was looking at her somewhat intensely then, because I knew what she was going to say. She met my eyes and abruptly changed the sentence. “The only people ahead of him are seniors. That’s really amazing.”
I haven’t come to terms with violin yet. I sort of hope I never do. But now my life has expanded so much – to film, church, and just plain happiness and pretty things. I really wish I had had the interest and love for violin I have now, and that my parents had been able to support me financially. But that’s in the past – I can’t always be wallowing in regret.
In other news, I sense that our respective sides of the fandom argument are sprouting from personal preference. I know that as a PotC fan I always wanted to defend PotC, no matter how ridiculous. I wasn’t the only one. I’m going to leave the argument here, although I do recommend that for some of the most courteous intelligent fans I have yet to come across, find a good Johnny Depp fansite. A good, really informative one. Usually the good ones have their own domain names.
I should really start homework now. Today will probably be an all-nighter. Depressing, because my eyelids are already drooping. I can’t believe that just two hours ago I was playing with orchestra onstage. It’s surreal, the stage.
I love the organic things in life – music and nature, for example. Movies make me happy, but nothing really compares to the instinctive, primitive happiness that comes from playing music.
I’ll admit, I am somewhat of a music snob when it comes to my instrument. I’ve mainly learned classical all my life, but occasionally I play PotC or some song by ear. Classical will always be much more fun to play.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, birthday, careers, children's book, conference, Ernest, idea, ironing, La Poo Poo, magazine, memories, movies, novel, projects, public speaking, publisher, sabbatical, screenplay, writing
Alright, disgruntled reader. Here are the answers to your questions. Yes, Ernest is doing well. He has taken a sabbatical to camp, where is he isn’t allowed to bring electronics. It was a surprise from La Poo Poo. All together now, “Awwwwwww.” Secondly, you haven’t heard much about “Angry Asian Man” because not much has been going on. I’m waiting to see what kind of production this is going to end up being, because depending on whether some important people help or not it will either be amateurish or only somewhat amateurish. As for your birthday, huzzah! Happy Birthday!
Once more, with gusto.
Aww, look at little Suzy and Jack. And look at their cake that looks like it’s made of Hawaiian leis. Don’t they look so happy? Oh no, little Bobby is playing with fire! See how the girls admire him so because he’s dangerous. What a lovely scene. So even if no one did much at your real birthday, now little Suzy, Jack, Bobby and friends are forever celebrating your birthday online. They’ll never stop.
On top of that, MUSIC, I have posted here today for you, and now must continue to churn out substance for this post because this is way too short. Did you enjoy my deep/happy essay yesterday? I hadn’t realized it was so long.
I apologize if I sound confrontational, it comes with the face.
I’m putting off any development on any projects for the summer, aside from writing. I haven’t been writing for several days, but I’m starting again today with an old idea I had about robots and Mexican housecleaners. It doesn’t mean I’ve neglected other projects, I jump around from day to day depending on my mood. Idea-making is actually very prolific right now for me, I have about 50 ideas recorded.
Is everyone enjoying the recent string of happily maturing Grapes posts? That sounded like a tutorial on how to make wine.
Have I mentioned how much I love ironing? Miya, on our trailer I call ironing duties. It is a serious art.
As for writing, I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, and I’m not using it as a white person phrase tossed in for effect. Aside from preschool memories, which are dominated by naptime and walking to my classroom, and before preschool, I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t writing. I did it for fun, which I thought was natural, but it turns out it’s not. Oops. Is it too conceited to say that sometimes I amaze myself? What I mean by this is that to see fifteen years, and to see all my experiences and surroundings culminate into a complex person is a marvel in itself. And if I ever got to know anyone as well as I know myself, I’d be wowed too.
Actually, before movies came along and swept me off my feet, I sometimes imagined I would become a writer. But there was that image of a person locked up alone in the attic, typing laboriously. It did not appeal to me, in addition to the fact that one does not earn a lot of money as a writer, generally. Look what I’m going after now – an even higher chance of starving.
So yes, it is a life goal of mine to publish a novel, and a children’s book. I used to want to be the youngest published novelist. Reading my old stuff, I really overestimated myself. I guess I never feel quite secure as a writer, because my ideas are always convoluted. With screenplays I can visualize the action and the angles, and my plots are usually simple themes I’d like to explore that I expand on as I write.
I’ve never completely abandoned writing though. Like my screenplays, I go back and randomly add to whatever I feel like, albeit not as often as screenplays. Maybe there’s excitement in thinking that I’ll soon be able to create this into live situations. With a book you send it into the publisher and you wait. With movies you can take the fate of your script into your own hands.
I’ve been thinking about how fun being a magazine editor would be. Maybe I’ll make one issue for fun. In fact, I’m writing the letter from the editor right now - it helps to plan out the issue. I know this isn’t how the real magazines do it, but whatever.
Tomorrow is the all-day conference for the career development class. I can’t wait, but the butterflies are churning just a little bit. We’ll get to talk about our careers, which is very exciting, because as you may have gathered I love talking about filmmaking. Then again, what public speaking event is complete without some nervousness?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: blue whale, carefree, chick flicks, child, childhood, conscience, cook, directors, exercise, family, fiction, filmmaking, forget, Francis Ford Coppola, future, goals, goodies, growing up, happiness, health, human, idiot, immigration, independent film, kindergarten, life, Martin Scorsese, memories, movies, Nobel Prize, optimism, perseverance, personality, photography, plans, projects, Romantic, swap, Taiwan, teaching, Tetro, thinking, travel, trip, United States
I’ve been thinking. Again? Yes, and I will be for hopefully the rest of my life, so suck it up if you want to read this blog. I know that every single post here says “I’ve realized” somewhere or other, and includes some profound epiphany that has blown my mind apart to smithereens but is really not that exciting. After all, haven’t all the old people already figured out what I’m figuring out right now?
It’s still mindblowing to me.
See, now I’ve forgotten what I just realized. The blue whale is returning to my mind. Get out, fatteh. The blue whale is what I see when I forget what I was about to say. No, I’m not crazy – once I wanted to tell fatherman some weird fact about blue whales but I forgot because someone else really wanted to speak instead, and all I could remember was the image of the blue whale in my head, but not the fact. It was really frustrating.
I used to be one of those people who wouldn’t let things go. Meaning, if a sentence didn’t make sense in a book, I’d reread it until my head was on the verge of exploding and all the words had started to look funny. Heck, I still do that. Other than that, if I had forgotten what I was about to say, I would rack my brains furiously until I could figure it out. And when this happened, I would also wonder if I would go on doing this for the rest of my life.
Oh yes. I’ve been optimistically contemplating my future, while at the same time keeping a bit of myself distantly skeptical. Dreams take money, believe it or not. And while you’ve all somewhat garnered that I love love love love love filmmaking, there are other things catching up. Like travel and teaching.
I wonder if all the kindergarteners who wanted to become teachers keep that dream somewhere when they grow up. I remember wanting to be like my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Fujikawa. She was a middle-aged white lady with neon red hair, a hue that gave it a plastic-y quality but kept it feathery at the same time. I’m sure my five-year-old mind filtered out the adult reasons behind her actions, but she was one of my favorite teachers. In fact, I’m just starting to realize that my memories of childhood may be inaccurate. Maybe I wasn’t as old soul as I thought. I mean, a toddler who sits down at Borders and begins to read aloud every picture book she can get her hands on in the middle of the stage/reading area can’t be that reserved, can she?
Anyway, I wanted to be just like Mrs. Fujikawa and be awesome to kids. All that jazz, real reasons why one should be a teacher. Today I don’t have any such ideal aspirations connected to teaching. I just want a classroom to decorate. Influencing people, I believe film can do a much better job with that.
Dare I share some of my other aspirations here? Why, sure, if you give me a cookie.
More than being a filmmaker, I’d like to be a person. God, such cheesiness again. But it’s true, and maybe blasphemous to people already in the film industry, that if I had to give up filmmaking or the opportunity to travel and really live my life, I’d take the latter. Filmmaking is part of living my life though, so it’s a bit of a tough choice.
I think a part of passion for film is to constantly be desiring it. If you get every movie you want ot make, you become too content and it becomes just a job. What would be interesting is if everyone were required to make one film, and that one was the only one they would ever make. Francis Ford Coppola’s been making a bunch of news with his new independent movies, one of which is “Tetro”. But I get what he’s saying when he says that he wants to return to amateur filmmaking. I love that he’s doing this, frankly.
What brought me to writing this post was, aside from procrastinating on my essay on the rise of independent film, is that I want to be someone who does things. That doesn’t necessarily include winning a Nobel Prize. You know those blogs you read, where they’re always going somewhere or doing some unconventional exciting project with their friends. That’s who I want to be. And even though I’ve always avoided my kitchen, I’m going to step into it this summer and learn to cook.
So I’ve planned out a few projects of my own, and a few goals, starting with this summer. I’m going to try photography, for one, and make time to read some fiction. I’m going to familiarize myself with famous directors, because it’s not cool to have never seen a Martin Scorsese movie. Then there’s the usual: exercise. I really get the feeling I’m going to pay for my lethargy later on in life. And while it is a little bit about weight and size, I’d like to build healthy habits and keep them going. How many overweight forty-year-old women have pledge this? My mother being one of them, unfortunately.
I feel so white saying this. A trip to Taiwan is long overdue. Not one where we do Buddhist chants for my late grandmother every Thursday, like last year, but one where I can see the entire country and maybe even get to know it better than my cousins who live there. Of course I’ll never beat them in familiarity, but maybe in having experienced more of it?
I wonder if over the years my entire family will have somehow ended up in the US and there will be no more of us in Taiwan. I know that some of my cousins plan to move to the United States later on, and it’s weird to think that in the future, when we probably no longer speak to each other, they’ll be here living through what I have my entire life.
So the big project I was talking about yesterday. Every week, a couple of friends and I will swap boxes filled with goodies – snacks, books, movies, clothes, whatever. Doesn’t that sound exciting? Yes. Yes it does.
What would suck would be for summer to end and for nothing to have happened. Keep me in check, fattehs.
A while back I felt like I had corrupted myself as I grew up. But I think that it’s the opposite now. Every time I get lazy as we’re unloading the car, something nudges me toward helping out. And now I do it. My conscience is stronger than ever, and yet I know when to let things go. I love growing up.
I think I’ve realized (there it is again) that I’m a romantic at heart. Ugh. Now if only that personality would transfer over to when I’m at school as well. I would miss the way I am currently, though. I feel a little bit genderless at school, like a little kid, which gives me the freedom to do stupid things and act like an idiot, but I do feel disregarded at times because of it. It’s like, I couldn’t tell Grapes that, she’d probably make a joke. Or, she wouldn’t understand.
Yes, occasionally, I would like to stop being the child in the group and have friendships like in those horrible chick flicks. Take my photos for instance. All anyone has of me is a creepy face. I am craving a good picture, but it’s weird posing for one.
I guess all of this can be summed into: I love being carefree, but I hate the patronization that comes with it from other people. And when it comes to having friendships, I’m tired of sitting at the kiddie table – having friendships that aren’t really rooted in any emotional bond, only the fact that we make each other laugh.
Okay, deep post over. What’s there to talk about now? Ah, yes. I love this blog more than my last one. Don’t go looking at it, those are the dark recesses of my past. Yuck.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: 1950's, 3D, Alice in Wonderland, birthday, critics, eloquence, emo, Ernest, feature film, fun, grapes, insteant messaging, l33t, lipgloss stain, Mika, movies, one years old, paper bag, psycho, school, script, Simple Plan, Six Degrees, Songs For Sorrow EP, teen angst, Tim Burton, website
Today was Ernest’s first birthday and I’m so freaking proud of myself for preserving a paper bag for a year. The only injury he’s suffered was that lipgloss stain from Miya’s mouth, and she wasn’t trying to kiss him when that happened.
Bringing him to school today, I sure did run into a lot of critics, and I got those funny glances where one eyebrow goes up and they look at you with their head turned to one side. I do feel like a psycho, but it’s so much fun when you don’t care.
I suppose he’s in for a gift guide as well…I’ll bring it in tomorrow. Today I’m working on a feature-length script that will hopefully be the easiest to shoot, so that may be the first feature I’ll film. And for that one I’m planning to go all out. 
I’ve been thinking about my own birthday. It’ll be in the style of a traditional children’s birthday party. Think 1950’s and the mother at the pink stove. But the theme will be six degrees of grapes. Egotistical, I know. Any ideas?
MIKA, your website and “Songs For Sorrow”, while brilliant, scare me with the thought that you have become an emo girl and will now only sing of the teen angst genre, comme Simple Plan.
I love how in movies characters always im each other in long thought-out sentences. With l33t and capitalization, of course. And the other person never sporadically im’s them while waiting for their slow responses.
I’ll leave you with an example of one of my own such elegant conversations. Note the eloquence of our speech. And yes, there is a shameless plug for Tim Burton’s “Alice in Wonderland” in there.
[20:02] violetcygne: are you typing?
[20:02] dustgoespoof: no
[20:02] dustgoespoof: oh vell
[20:02] violetcygne: bahhumbug
[20:02] dustgoespoof: OMG ALICE IN WONDERLAND
[20:03] violetcygne: WHATATAT
[20:03] violetcygne: AHWT ABOUT IOT??
[20:03] dustgoespoof: http://theplaylist.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-look-alice-in-wonderland-in-3d.html
[20:03] dustgoespoof: quick! grab your 3d glasses
[20:03] violetcygne: OOH
[20:04] violetcygne: let me pull them out of my ass
[20:04] dustgoespoof: lolllll
[20:04] dustgoespoof: your ass doesnt need help being 3d
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: cinema, directing, director, Ed Wood, Epiphany, film, happiness, Jean Valjean, life, movie, movies, passion, Pirates of the Caribbean, STAR testing, underwear, Who Am I?
It’s the second day of STAR testing, which I’m not complaining about. Being confined to one’s French classroom to finish fifteen minutes worth of work in an hour, one gets a generous amount of thinking time. Maybe it’s only me, though, because every time I look around it’s like a battlefield. Everyone’s sprawled all over their desks, and there’s a bit of snoring going on behind me.
I have a problem with falling asleep in public, however, so I stay awake, thinking about scripts I’m working on. Occasionally I venture into that cheesy territory of Jean Valjean’s: who am I? For me, the best way to answer this questions is by imagining I’m being interviewed.
That sounded way more epic in my head.
This job shadowing experience, while not over, has taught me a lot about the film industry, as much as I hate to admit it. I thought I knew enough, but it turns out that I didn’t. And thank god I haven’t encountered anything that would make me shun filmmaking forever.
As of now, I’m going to say directing is for me. The acting bug is shrinking, although I fully expect its return full-force next year when I take Theater Lab. Could it be more obvious when, instead of watching interviews with actors, I watch interviews with directors? And when Johnny Depp’s explanation of his character from “The Astronaut’s Wife” doesn’t move me as much as Martin Scorsese talking about the balletic movements in “The Tales of Hoffman”.
Do I sound overly pretentious today? Blame it on the English Language Arts section of the STAR test, the reading passages of which I must not be outdone by. There I go again,with the lengthy sentences.
I’m so in love with movies right now – they are as epic as PotC 3. I really appreciate every single director out there…even if their movie is crap, they’ve got passion for it and ideas that just…didn’t translate to the audience. Which is not good, but I admire their passion. Yes, I did just watch part one of Ed Wood, how did you guess?
Whell. This half-baked post can’t be as bad as that highlighter-yellow underwear Miya and Nobu bought me…which will never see the light of day.
One last question. These epiphanies, do you ever reach a certain age where they stop appearing?
