Sitting

Sitting in front of a computer. Not doing much of anything really, just watching microwaves explode on YouTube. Thinking about anything but what the mind has been on as of late.

Sitting on a bus. Air conditioned, though it was actually a nice enough day today. Watching various women sit across from me, all shapes and sizes. Thinking about those women, where are they going, what's in store for the rest of this day once they get off the bus. Wondering if they're in relationships, what sort of music is blasting through those earbuds. Noticing a fancy ring, watching them reach their stop and get off before I do.

Sitting on concrete steps that lead into the Hudson River. Watching the sun set. A pretty clear day, not much in the way of clouds, which makes for a boring magic hour. At least the waves were alive and kicking, relentlessly pounding against those stairs to no avail. Took off my shoes, let my pale feet soak in the warm breeze and a few brief moments of the sun's rays. Stayed until it was dark and the few strangers also watching have left, the only company were a few confused ducks. Lots of quacking, I'm assuming asking one another for directions. Far be it from me to point the way.

Sitting on a bench at the High Line, once an abandoned elevated railroad track turned into a beautiful park. Watching the moon rise. Found a small part of park with the lights off and it didn't occur to me until after I looked up as to why that was. The brightest moon I've ever seen, I look down and see I'm actually being illuminated by that blue glow. I've never seen that happen, after all these years I don't think I've been outside during a full moon in a place that wasn't saturated with street lights. Saw a bunch of folks pass by, nearly all in pairs. Hearing small glimpses of conversations, wondering why nobody else seems to notice.

Sitting in a subway train, watching the stations pass by. Given up on thinking, just zoning out on some music when I notice the mother with her child getting on. I give my seat up, stand the rest of the way home.

Heat of the Summer

Haven't been sleeping well lately. For many reasons. Being in the midst of summer is chief among them. The humidity feels abrasive, moving through it creates a friction I'd rather not subject myself to. Doing anything feels like a chore. I don't really feel like doing anything.

Last night I was up until four or five am, the norm for this time of the year. Accompanied only by an increasingly old fashioned circular fan to push the air around. That and a water-bug about as long as the sandal used to squash it was wide. The heat tends to drive them out of whatever crevasse they were hiding in. Once I did drift off I had strange dreams of doing battle with twelve foot tall roaches, gladiator style with a sword and shield. Wasn't a fair fight, they had three sets of weapons against my single pair of arms.

Awoke sometime in the afternoon, tried to muster up the energy to do anything productive today. This entry is about as good as it got. I have had the time to start catching up on a backlog of “This American Life” episodes, a pretty cool public radio show if you're not familiar with it. A list of shows sitting on the ipod stretching back to late November, kept putting it off 'cause of work and such. But the list is being whittled down, and now I worry about what am I going to do once I actually catch up. At this rate I got another two weeks to go. What then?

So what's the deal with...

I know, a shitty way to start a post, but yeah. So what is the deal with people trying to take pictures of fireworks?

I’m down over around the west side of Manhattan, not having anything better to do when it hits me that the fireworks are about to start in half an hour. So I follow the rest of the sheep, hundreds slowly marching towards the Hudson River. Around 11th or 12th avenue we run out of street to walk as it’s packed with folks sitting on sidewalks and cops swarming the place. Figured I had a decent enough view of the sky so decided that was a good a place as any, across the street from the northeast corner of the Javits Center.

A nice warm summer breeze wafting by. A generally peaceful and jovial mood around. And the smell of hot dogs all around, two carts within a hundred feet doing business. Then that familiar whistle rings down the street, everyone rushes to their feet and the explosions begin. I will say fireworks are a cool thing, I've been missing out these twenty-something years. Actual fireworks, those things are loud and just create a very satisfying rumble, and the light in the sky they create are a sight. Once it began I quickly realized how pointless those television simulcasts I used to watch as a kid were. It’s akin to a roller coaster or porn, watching it just ain't the same. I enjoyed being a part of that today.

All that being said, what’s the deal with these fools with their cameras feebly trying to take pictures of it? You guys have a chance to watch this majestic spectacle in person and what do you do? Watch it through a shitty three inch display while firing away at the shutter, and getting shit for pictures. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with photographers doing their job, but I look at this sea of people filling up this street and at least one in four have that telltale glow of an lcd illuminating their faces. I got some dude to the left of me popping a flash every minute, always chimping down at the screen to take a glance at another lame shot, then trying again.

I mean, you have a multi-million dollar television crew shooting everything, you have dudes with the proper lenses and tripods probably taking way better shots from rooftops, you ain’t gonna get shit in the middle of the street with that thousand dollar camera loaded with the stock lens while shooting at the shutter speed a flash would induce. Why bother? I assume it’s because they have to try and justify that thousand dollar purchase, have something to show the friends when they get back home.

But why bother? You’re missing the forest for the trees. It ain’t about the fireworks man, it’s about the fireworks.

Yeah. Happy Fourth of July, folks.

Aimless.

Once again, the night before. Always waiting 'till the last minute to write these things, not like anyone is reading them anyway. But just in case you are, and happen to be reading it between the time it's being written and 8:30pm on Sunday, July 3rd, feel free to stop by the Anthology Film Archives where we'll be screening That Thing in its entirety. Open to the public and all.

In an e-mail I sent to the cast and crew the other day I felt like that's the only motivation I could think of to come. How often do you get a chance to sit back and watch a thing you made on the big screen amongst the company of friends and strangers? If anything it probably will be the last time. Too broke to enter the flick into anymore festivals, even getting into this one felt like a strange stroke of luck. I also feel like I've finally moved on, That Thing was a thing I made a while back, feels like a forever ago. Shoot, last time I watched it in its entirety was the screening over at Lehman College about a year ago. But then again I don't think most filmmakers actively watch the fruits of their labor for any sort of pleasure. Tomorrow will probably be a painful experience.

I suppose that usually is the point, to make something so that it can be seen. You're not saying anything if nobody hears you say it.

Life has been odd lately. Ups and downs that are messing with my head. Usually life's passing me by at a slow and steady clip, but the last few months have felt like I've full tilt run into brick walls, followed by taking a moment to admire the wall before dusting myself off and churning ahead again. Another shitty metaphor, I know. Been doing things, living, but I think my quality of life has suffered because of the living. Going between being calm as a cold river and stressed as a tree torn apart by the wind is... another shitty metaphor. It's also an odd way to live. It probably also only makes sense in my head. Not much in the way of deep thoughts tonight.

Sense is something I don't have much of at the moment. I swear I'm not drunk, though I wish I was. Let me try and get some sleep for tomorrow.