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Thursday, September 24, 2009

We Are Winners!!

Last night we went to the Celluloid Social Club, where the HotShot winner was officially announced. And if you haven't guessed by now, it was me! Or should I say it was "MONSTER"!!

I was speechless.....literally.....but I did manage to blurt out something, I think. This is a very exciting time for me. We have an amazing actress to be our lead,
Jodelle Ferland, and I have a really supportive film crew taking shape.

For now, I'm tackling the worst part of all....funding packages. Canada Arts Council deadline is just a week away, ugh.  Need to write something about myth, ritual, media and control. Thank god for the 'big brain' shelf at Happy Bat's Video.

I guess I should stop procrastinating.



Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Roar roar roar. Roar roar roar roar roar...roar.



Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Where did the Monster come from

This summer I had more time than usual to look around for inspiration. Much to my surprise I found this angry troupe of monsters cruising through the grass. I couldn't get them out of my mind. They were definitely up to something bad, something only monsters would do. But I couldn't help wonder if they were aware that I could squish them with my flip-flops. Then I got thinking, maybe it's me who is mistaken. Things aren't always what they appear. Look at the glow in the leader's eye. If you see this bunch, I suggest you let them pass.....



Tuesday, September 08, 2009

the disenbodied creative spirit of genius

Since i don't have cable, I watch lots of ted.com. One that stuck with me was with Elizabeth Gilbert talking about where creative inspiration comes from.

My favorite part is her story about Ruth, now in her 90s, who has been a poet her entire life. She grew up in rural Virginia, she would be out working in the fields and she said she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape. And she said it was like a thunderous train of air. And she said it would come barreling down at her over the landscape. And she felt it coming, because it would shake the earth under her feet. She knew that she had only one thing to do at that point, and that was to "run like hell." And she would run like hell to the house and she would be getting chased by this poem, and the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and pencil fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it and grab it on the page.

And other times she wouldn't be fast enough, so she'd miss it and it would continue on across the landscape looking for another poet.