Bound

There is just something mesmerizing about watching a book be put together by hand.

Maybe it's the careful craftsmanship. How everything seems so delicate and precise. Complicated yes - but it seems extremely relaxing. Calming and soothing.

I've never seen something like this - nor did I believe there were those out there who still put them together by hand.

   

Escape

He had been running so long - he wasn't sure how much further he could make it. His limbs were stiff, refusing use - mind racing, unable to focus.

He couldn't see them behind him, but he could hear them. The mens' voices echoing, the beating pads of the dogs feet. At any moment he knew he'd feel their jaws lock onto his arms or back, dragging him to the ground. He could already feel it.

The world was beginning to close in on him, strangling him. His vision was shrinking - the road in front of him was just a haze.

He didn't want to go back. He couldn't go back.

Granulated Path

It had been some time since he had passed through a town. He had looked forward to it - to feeling the cobblestone under his feet, smelling the food on the venors' carts, hearing other voices other than his own. The journey had been long and hard. He had tried counting as he trudged through the dunes, the wind wiping the sand across his face, waiting to reach his destination, the city beyond the horizon. It had begun as days, slowly turning into weeks, into what he thought was months. One dune blended into the next. The sun beat down. It could have been years. Yet, he continued on, creating his own trail amongst the meandering dunes.

Why was he wandering into the desert? He was not so sure. He had heard that it was his destiny, his goal to reach what lay beyond the horizon, the city at the edge of the world. Growing up it had always been a rumor, but once the seed was planted in his head, he knew he had to make it. He wasn't sure how it was his destiny or why, nor did he care. Once his first foot was buried within the warm sand, it became his journey - something he needed to finish. It wasn't for anyone else. Or an answer. It was something he had to do.

The last town he had passed through was now just a distant memory lost amongst the swirling sand. He had fooled himself into thinking it was the end to his journey, but deep within his heart he was prepared that it wasn't. But it was not as hard to continue as he had thought.

He had come this far - further than he thought possible. Stopping was not an option.

Dropping his head, he continued forward, into the wind - for in the distance he thought he saw a glimmer on the horizon.

Hotel Blues

Long day. Wooh, what a Monday it was - not as rough as for some other people (Mom - I love you - keep that head held high), but still exhausting.

Whats that saying? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy? Well, its only been one day and I feel played out already. Not going to be a quick, easy, or fun week. Blah.

But, ;et's see if I can lighten the mood for everyone with a music video that I've always enjoyed since seeing it. On the surface, it seems pretty mundane and straight forward - sticking to stereotypes that music videos are known for. But, once it picks up and gets going, it starts to become more and more unique. One example? When the actor starts singing the song, while the song is playing on the radio in the hotel room. I love this tiny little detail. Rather than just being music that is playing for us - it is coming from the world in the video and it can be interacted with. Point in case - later, when the main actor (also the real life singer of the song) walks down the hotel hallway and the music fades away as he walks further. Small and seemingly insignificant details? Yes. But they carry with them much more substance than one would think.

Doesn't hurt that the song is catchy as well.

Oh right and the ending. It certainly got me the first time I saw it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Do you see anything else that is less conventional than the standard music video?

Can't Sleep

I'm in the process of planning a trip with an extremely good friend of mine who I haven't seen in almost two years, and it is going to be glorious.

I'm so excited for it, I can't stop thinking about it tonight, which subsequently is keeping me from sleeping.

We're going to road trip California and tear it up. Wine tours in Sonoma, ride the trollies in San Fran, camp in Yosemite (I've already begun making a list of tents, sleeping bags, and other goodies - my inner boyscout is giddy as can be), and of course drive up and down the Pacific Coast High Way.

Hot damn. This will be the most fun week and a half (if not longer) of my life.

And to be honest - it is less about the experience and more about the company. That is what is the most exciting. So much to catch up on - stories to tell, memories to relive, and laughter to share. I know it's still 4 or 5 months away, but I'm already losing sleep because of it.

I can't believe its been two years.

Perfect Pint

You know what time it is.

Friday video time! Yayaya.

This is going to be short and sweet - a video I have loved since the moment I saw it (and appropriate since St. Patty's Day just passed).

It is fun, heart warming, and uplifting.

Enjoy!

Late Night Drizzle

She loved when the seasons were beginning to turn. Right around the time that winter wass pushed out by the swirling winds of spring.

Sure, the nights were cold and windy - the kind of breeze that could penetrate your clothing instantly and send a shiver up your spine, but it was clean. That type of air that energized you, dared you to breath deeper, opened your pores. She waited for the nights that she could smell the young buds just forming on the trees. Sweet and intoxicating - drifting through the air. Thats when she knew it was coming.

Tonight was the kind of night she waited for each year. The first evening rain of spring. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd wait for it to begin to drizzle. It was inevitable - once a few drops began falling, the rest would shortly follow, plunging down to the thawing earth. Somehow, it always struck a perfect balance - never dense enough to soak through her clothes onto her skin, but never light enough to seem like a passing gesture. It was always enough to leave her feeling cleansed.

Tonight was no different.

She just tilted her head back and smiled as the rain washed away all the filth from the previous months.

Sleeper of the Summer

I know I've posted about this before, but get over it.

It's real - the official, full length trailer for Ridley Scott's Prometheus  has been released and my god, is it a doozy. It has everything you could want from the man who created Alien, Blade Runner, and so many other films. Atmosphere, tension, compelling narrative. This movie will drive itself and take us along for the ride, regardless of if we are ready for the turns it'll take.

Is it going to be scary? Absolutely. I think that's why I'm so excited for it. I know there are other big films coming out this summer, mainly The Avengers and The Dark Knight Rises (my big two), but I think Prometheus is a force to be reckoned with. I have no doubt it'll be as good as the others, if not better, my doubt just comes when I think about how much it'll make at the box office. Obviously I'm in full support of it and I hope everyone else will be too.

Sit back and enjoy. I know the last couple teasers have been vague, but this covers a little more story. Sure, they're still very loose with what they tell us - but it still sucked me in.

Hell - the cast is even impressive. Charlize Theron, Idris Elba, Michael Fassbender, Noomi Rapace. Hot damn, I just want it to get here now.

Road to No Where

Growing up as a kid, he had always heard stories about it. That it seemed like any other road. Black asphalt, white paint, two lanes. Nothing special to it. Except were it went. It ran through town, running parallel to main street, before weaving off to the outskirts. And thats where it ended. There was no sign. No real explanation. It just simply ended.

It was rather abrupt. It didn't slowly taper off into nothing. Nor did it slowly blend into the dirt that was beneath it. It ended. There was just a line of sod and on the other side the woods, as if whoever was paving the road wasn't paying attention, looked up and saw the barrier of trees ahead of them and slammed on the brakes of the machine.

The more daring kids would venture into the woods, all returning, boasting about stories of ghosts, creatures in the woods, or the wreckage of the highway crew that disappeared in the middle of building the road. But there was a story of a child, some years ago who went off into the woods during the night, when the night was at its darkest, yet quietest, and all that came back was a gargled scream. People searched the next day, but nothing was found. The kid had gone missing. There was no trace he had been there other than a light set of tracks winding trough the brush.

Parents seemed to take this story very seriously. Hounding their children not to venture into the woods during the night.

He was young. He was rebelous. Adventure was all he ever really wanted. And tonight seemed like the best night for it. His parents had fallen asleep early, leaving the house quite. It wasn't hard slipping out the front door - he had done it before and with his dad's rhythmic snoring in the background - he knew he was safe.

The bag was filled with all the necessaties. A flashlight. Some granola bars. Glow sticks. Even his aluminum little league bat somehow fit inside - just barely sticking out of the top. He was ready. As he stood there, he had his first doubt. Was this really a smart thing to be doing? He was sure there was nothing in those woods - but the pit that was forming in his stomach was trying to convince him otherwise.

Taking a deep breath, he moved forward.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the moon was full, but somehow as he entered through the first layer of bushes, he swore the night couldn't have been darker.

New Cinematography?

Alright - it's Friday - you know the drill.

By now, I'm lazy, and I'm sure you are too - so I'll make this easy on you. Just like I usually do on Fridays.

With a video of course.

So what do I have in store for you tonight? Nothing elaborate, nothing too fancy. Ok - well, I guess I lied. It is fancy. And it is elaborate, but I won't go into too much detail about it tonight. All I can saw is that it may change the face of cinematography as we currently know it.

Currently, cameras are placed on cranes, job arms, tracks, and steady arms that are worn by cameramen. Between all these things, almost all kinds of movement can be simulated and documented. I said almost for a reason. Of course crane arms can only fit certain places, as can people holding a camera. So, no matter what, camera movement has always been limited to some extent.

That is where this new device comes in. Some clever dude out there decided to essentially put together four mini remote control helicopters together and mount a camera on it. Sure there are diagrams of this contraption, but I don't want to bore you with it.  Just imagine the possibilities that creates for camera movement and the art of long takes/shots.

I'm super excited about this, but I won't explain it in great detail. Just watch below and you'll see what I mean (I'm not saying the content of the video is wonderful, just how wonderful the camera work is):


OMCOPTER - Ninja shoot with Epic from omstudios on Vimeo.




Pretty DAMN cool if you ask me.

Permanent Travelers

They had finally made it. The air smelled sweet, the breeze from the sea felt cool, and the people were inviting.

It had all started a long time ago, when he had proposed that in a couple years, they should pack up and move spontaneously to another courty. Europe, Asia, where ever it may be. They'd just choose one. Throw what they needed - some close, money, passports, in a bag, and just go.

After three planes, twenty four hours, and numerous cups of coffee, they found themselves in their new home on the coast. Well, not exactly home since they hadn't found one yet, but this was it. As soon as they pulled in, there was just something instantly magical about it. The lightness of the air, the doughy smell from the bakeries, the saltiness of the sea, the old weathered couples that walked down the narrow cobblestone streets together - they knew they had found their spot.

They had both done the corporate grind. Long hours, regimented days, cubicles, coffees in disposable cups. Sure, it was monotonous, but they both led good lives. Money was never an issue, nether were friends, or entertainment. Something had just seemed off. Too familiar.

As they sat there, holding hands, staring at the inlet - they were both thinking the same thing. Being scared wasn't an option. I didn't know the language. They didn't have a residence. Their money was no good here. Friends and family were on the other side of the world. They were stuck here for the time being.

Yet, strangely, both were the happiest they could remember.

Burnt Dusk

When she came out of the shelter - she really had no idea what to expect. Would the world be alright? Was it all just a hoax? Would it be safe?

It all started when their father said he had a vision of the end of days. That the world would end during a massive storm, that would shake the earth to its very core. His family ignored him, laughed it off. In his free time, he began building the shelter. Piece by peice. He dug the hole in the yard himself, poured the cement foundation, stocked the shelves with food. It didn't take him long him to complete it. But once it was done, all he had left to do was wait.

And it didn't take long.

She didn't really remember a lot except news reports of the "storm of the century" that was expected to hit that evening, with gail for winds, and inches of rain. Just like any other school night, she got ready for bed, brushed her teeth, said goodnight to her parents, and tucked herself in. It all happened too fast for her to know what was going on. Sh was woken up by her father grabbing her, shaking her, telling her "we have to go." The house was moving. Shuttering. She could see some of the roof had bee pried off. Outside the wind was swirling fast enough that she could see it against the stagnant air inside the house. Before she knew it, she was in the shelter. The lights had kicked out, not because the backup generator wasn't working, but because the filaments in the bulbs must have burst. The walls of the shelter shook violently the whole night, the lights, before dying, swaying back and forth overhead.

She wasn't exactly sure how she had managed sleep, but she did and she was surprised when she woke up. Everyone was still asleep and the walls had stopped shaking. It was deathly quiet. Extremely creepy. It sounded dead in the outside world. Sh knew she shouldn't be doing it, but she couldn't help herself. She had to see what outside looked like.

Opening the hatch, she was surprised. Not a lot of vegetation had been ripped out of the ground. All leaves had been ripped off though and were no where to be found, as if vaporized by the swirling air. Looking around - there didn't seem to be anyone else around, nor their houses. Turning, she realized even their house was a crumpled skeleton of its former self. All the structures of her town were decimated.

There had to be other survivors right?

The air smelled and tasted funny. It was also a strange yellow tint - something clearly lingering in it. She didn't know what to make of it. The situation, the scenario. The possibility of no survivors. No other life. Only death to look forward to.

Thats when she noticed the tree in front of her, the one the family planted when they first moved into the house years and years ago. It was comforting to know it had withstood the storm. Its roots were deep and firm.

Walking up to it, she had noticed something and had her first glimmer of hope.

There, nestled in amongst the dead, burned, gnarled limbs, lay one tiny bud, that was beginning to blossom

Sea Cave

I had a bit of the Monday's today.

Not because I woke up groggy, or feeling "off" - but because the day was long, the work hard, and those people above me, work-wise, really made the day a hassle. Oh well, thus is life. Right?

It didn't help that today was overcast. Don't get me wrong, I love overcast days, especially out here in always sunny California, but when coupled with all the events of the day, it didn't help.

What today did do though, was make me want the summer. I want the sun to beat down, hard. I want the air to be hot, muggy, thick. I want to sweat. I want summer rain storms. The smell of ozone. I want to be able to spend time outside at night in just shorts and a t-shirt. I want the trees in my yard to bloom so the air smells sweet. I want to be able to have fires behind the house in the fire pit. I just want to be with people late into the night. I want to throw steaks onto the grill. I want to lay out in the yard in the sun. I want to pick the citrus from the trees for drinks.

I hope you all want summer too.

This video, as simple as it is, reminds me of all these things, but most importantly, it makes me feel that summer is right around the corner.


S E A  C A V E from Benjamin Dowie on Vimeo.

Love Me Some PES

Well, you all know how much I love the director PES (who is repped by Anonymous Content...yay).

He's that guy who does all the cool stop motion videos with house hold objects - like making spaghetti, deep sea fish, etc. So of course I'd be the one to show you that he has a new film out and much like every other he's ever made, this one is amazing.

Happy friday!

Visiters

The first time the lights began to flicker, he hardly paid any attention. It was only when the TV began cutting to static and fading in and out that he became curious. He did the typical things - tried different stations, smacked the side, even turned it on and off. Yet, the picture on the screen just kept pulsing. On and off, on and off.

His curiosity got the better of him and he craned his neck looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wires running from the telephone pole to his house. He figured something could be loose up there - the wind storms that had blown through recently surely could have pulled something free. Nothing. Everything still looked intact.

Just then, without warning, a bright flash illuminated the sky. Brighter than anything he had ever seen. Scorching. He looked away as quickly as he could,  eyes burning in their sockets.

It had certainly come from the sky, towards him, continuing its flight over the house.

He was hesitant walking to the back door. In his head he thought flipping on the outside light would help ease his nerves, but unfortunately, it did absolutely nothing. After a few moments of prepping himself, he slowly opened the back door, facing the garage. It was a dark night, one of the few a summer that nothing could be seen, even the stars above. He was starting to become worried. Smoke was rising from beyond the garage, the kind born of a smoldering mess.

Thats when he heard the footsteps. Loud, earth rumbling steps that came from the other side of the garage.

Whatever had landed was headed straight for him.

Kony 2012

Please, please, PLEASE join this fight.

I am. My "Action Kit" is already in the mail.

Take 30 minutes out of your day and watch this - everything you need to know is in it:


KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.

Granite Posture

His joints ached. So much, that he actually couldn't tell. They had ached for so long, he now just assumed they did. He had forgotten what it felt like to move. To breath. To live. It had been so long. He tried at first to keep track, counting the rising suns and setting moons, but after the first couple hundred, his mind began to get fuzzy. Not because he was having difficulty counting or remember the days, but because he was lost within his mind everyday, all day.

He hadn't been that old when he was punished. Many would even consider him innocent.

It was long ago, before the streets were paved black. Before the people below him rode around in metal beasts and spoke to little boxes that were pressed against their ears. Men were still dreaming. Hoping to fly with the birds, swim deep below the waves with the fish, discover a new land at the edge of the world. He was still just a kid.

It was a slightly overcast day, much like most of the days in Paris, and he was wandering around the market, watching the bakers break their freshly cooked breads, the artists painting in broad strokes, and the shop owners' heckling onlookers. Thats when he bumped into her - a shriveled old husk of a woman. Her hair was long a wispy, hanging in front of her face - hiding the few gnarled teeth that still stuck in her gums. Her hands were twisted knots of knuckles, eyes almost to the point of blind. He hadn't noticed immediately, but she had dropped a jar of liquid that had shattered upon the cobble stone.

She looked down at the spilled contents and came right back to him, glaring into his eyes, through him, into his soul. She began murmuring something, low and inaudible. Some sort of chant. When she reach the end, she repeated it, but a little louder. Again and again, she continued through the verses. He was unaware of what she was saying - it was some language he had never encountered - but he had heard of a gypsy language only they knew. As she got louder, she began to shake, her eyes growing darker and darker with every repetition.

Quick as lightning, she reached out for him, her gnarled hand barely missing his face. At that moment he ran. As quickly as he could. He felt as if the woman was inside of him, possessing him. He felt stiff. He needed to get away.

It was only a couple blocks before he felt himself starting to tense up. His muscles became tight and his vision began to pulse in and out. Looking down, his skin was turning a sickly grey - his complexion turning rough and porous. He wasn't sure what to do. By the time he tried to move again, he was stuck where he was. He tried to speak, but his mouth was fused shut. He couldn't even move his head to look around.

Waiting seemed like the hardest part. Just waiting for someone to pass. But he soon realized it wasn't the waiting that was the worst, but watching everyone walk by without noticing him. A select few would walk right up to him, stare at him, stroke his new skin. He would scream on the inside - try to shake back and forth, but no one noticed. Helpless.

It wasn't until a week later that an architect happened to wonder down the street and stopped, eyeing him up and down.

Within weeks, he was hoisted above the city of Paris and placed on the Cathedral of Notre Dame - to stare down at those below him for eternity. To watch people come and go. The loved ones in his life would occasionally pass by, looking up, marveling at the architecture. Unaware that he was up there, a prisoner of time.

He had watched the world evolve. It didn't make sense to him anymore. The noises, the things people wore, or their habits.

As much as he wanted the old gypsy to somehow forgive him, releasing him of his curse, he was glad she was long dead. For if he had the chance to return to the world of the living, he wasn't sure if he'd want it.

He would just be a relic of the past.

As he stood there, staring down at it, he could hardly believe his eyes.

He had worked to hard on it. For so long. Logged hours upon hours, hoping to make it perfect. To make it a reality. On this cool summer morning, he had finally done it. Created what he had started over a year ago. He could feel it's energy, pulsating towards him, through him, out into the world.

At first he swore it wasn't going to work. There were no signs. The first couple shocks thumped with no result. Each time the electricity surged through the body, he hoped it'd wake up, take its first breaths. After the fourth of fifth attempt, he knew it was time to give up and turned away from the table. Just as he began to write down the failed results in his notebook - that was when he heard it. The slight, wet, whistle of air traveling through it's nose. Dropping his pad, he spun and kneeled close to it - listening, hoping he could feel a breath on his ear. Before he could feel the breath, the chest had begun to rise and fall, slowly at first, but then more steadily.

He wasn't sure how exactly it worked or if his calculations even made sense, but he had done it.

There was  no way in knowing if the world ready for his creation, but he would soon find out.

He had to test it somehow.

Almost There

Alright - still under the weather, but in a much better spot.

I should be back to normal tomorrow - wahoo! Thank god it is Friday too - a relaxing weekend is what I need.

Anywho - just like I did yesterday, short post (barely a post at all actually) and some videos.

Enjoy!

Here is a beautiful little music video - with a dually beautiful song:


Bon Iver -  Towers (Official Music Video) from Bon Iver on Vimeo.



I know I've showcased this before, but they keep pumping trailers out (although it can't compete with The Dark Knight Rises). May 4th? Yes please.