First off, holy balls. After nearly 30 hours of filming, editing, composing music, and all things film related (color correcting is a major pain) our film is complete. Oh, through in nearly ten hours of writing!
Either way, it is complete. It was humbling to experience the amount of work it takes to make the film. At first, I thought the process would be too long and we were too ambitious for this. I was right but with the help of my friends we were able to pull it off. I guess you're not really a senior until you stay at school until eleven on a Friday.
Wow, what the hell. I can't believe we did that. Need photo evidence?
Hello guys. In my last post, you can find a very secret message. Know where to find it? It's in the color!
First off, lets start from the beginning. I used a text to binary code generator... to well... convert the text to binary code.
From there, you must convert the binary code to hexadecimal value.
This hexadecimal blue can be interpreted as a color using a HTML color picker.
Now, this process can be done the other way just as easy. I learned about this and how people in China use it to share information with each other in spite of a crushing right-wing government. Now you have the capacity to convert your favorite novella or song lyrics into a color. Ever wonder what Looking For Alaska would look like as a color? Me too.
Oh, and this works backwards too. In theory anyway.
Rain today. The water falling thousands of feet only to hit the glass window a few feet from me reminds me of Saturday night. Senior prom was over, and we were in my car. The night was young, but I was more than tired. We had purchased some juice from Walmart; we sipped it with engine idle, stereo loud. Punk rock had never sounded so nostalgic and crunchy.
The time came for you to get out of the car and walk into your domain. You gathered your things and said goodbye. The night was great and fun and platonic just like I thought it was going to be. I took the wheel in my hand and shook my head to knock out the cobwebs. The shutters felt less heavy, but soft patter of rain on metal overhead was the perfect white noise. I put the car in drive.
Next came a knocking on my window. I was startled by the noise and at your presence. She must have forgot something. I rolled down my window with a friendly smile and I looked to my right to look for the potential lost object; wallet or shoe perhaps? You tapped me on my shoulder, and I turned to look at you. You kissed me. Out of the blue. Unexpected.
My premonitions of a mostly platonic prom-evening were upstaged by a moment shared in the rain. As you took a step back you said something like "I can't believe I just did that" but it wasn't meant to spite or inflict any kind of hurt. As you opened the door to the complex I muttered somewhat inaudibly Me neither. It was just a strange yet very teenager-esque moment that took us both completely by surprise.
Needless to say, I had a very senior prom. The dance and all accompanying pre-rendezvous were all what they should have been. Happy moments shared with friends and family. The moments were whole and there are no fragmented questions left remaining. If I were to give this day a color, it would be
Spotify. What an amazing music application. The ability to share music and musical tastes is so important to the growth of so many thing, friendship included. A person's music taste says more than just words; it can define who they are and what they want from the world.
After looking around on Spotify for a while, I stumbled across my friend Z's page. Z is a kick-ass musician and even better friend. He goes to some art school a few states over yonder, but keeps in touch with his friends back home. He is known for his somewhat 'unknown' musical taste -he likes bands most people have never heard of before (and has seen most of them in some of the most sketchy venues imaginable). His playlists are comprised of songs wracked full of angsty teen anthems and shoegazey sadboy rock operas.
After some searching, I came across a song that didn't really fit Z's usual musical mold; sad, sad, and more sad. The song that stood out so much was Prawner by the Polar Bear Club. Musically, it stayed within the style that Z would like, but its lyrics stood in stark contrast to the this genre.
"I've got to take a grab at something great"
As I heard this, I suddenly felt a sense of validation; I realized that everyone is trying to achieve this simple goal. You see, we sometimes wander from disaster to disaster aimlessly driving in circles asking ourselves what we are doing with our lives. Days seem to go by too fast yet they tend to drag on. There are some days where the two mix together and you can't tell if you want this moment to last forever or slip back out of the limelight.
But then this song came on. My plans for next year are my own, albeit somewhat lofty and seemingly impossible at times, will take me to places I've never been. I've often wondered if this was what I truly wanted from college, and if this was the lifestyle I wanted. I've asked myself so many times what if this doesn't work out, will I be a failure, and how will this work? Honestly, I have no idea if this will work out, but it is worth a try regardless.
That is the point. I'm reaching for something that is bigger than myself; something that makes me more afraid and excited than I have even been in my life. In the end, I know that things won't be easy and I will be challenged everyday. At this time next year, I will but cut off from the outside world and will be at sea for ninety days. No internet. No mail. My friends will be home for the summer and probably gathering around a campfire, enjoying each other's company. I'm not trying to make the shipping experience sound like its going to suck; I can't wait to see the sea and take a life of adventure. My point is that I will be trading the life (or a piece of it) for something new and adventuresome. I know I will miss everybody, but that is the price of the sea.
Ultimately, we will all go down our own path. Each way is different, twisting, narrated by different voice actors, and surrounded by different types of nasty things that make you want to walk away from it all. In a year, our lives will all be drastically different. We will all be on our way to life and the nostalgia that makes memories last.
So, I leave you with the song that brought me here in the first place. Music has truly been one of the most influential things in my life, and I hope that it can have the same effects on you as it has me.
After sitting in on a fantastic speaker this afternoon (the most cool @andybloxham ), I wondered what we were really trying to accomplish in our Watchmen project. Are we trying to tell a clouded narrative that has more twists and turns than the road to Winnipeg, or are we trying to ask our viewers a question?
Much of what we have read this year in AP lit was literature rooted deep in questions. Mary Shelly's Frankenstein questioned what it meant to be human and questioned humanity's reactions to itself. Cormac McCarthy's The Road and Yan Martel's Life of Pi are question what it means to survive in a world that is indifferent to your own demise. Watchmen is no different in its questioning of what it means to be good and morality (among a few thousand other things). Ultimately these works carry their gravity in their narrative, but their questions are what make them so intensely interesting.
As readers, we put ourselves (theoretically) in the same situation as the protagonists. As we venture into storytelling, I feel that if we can truly make our users think about the question we choose, we have made something powerful. After looking at story-bible and scene descriptions, I know we have a great opportunity to make something that will have a lasting impact. The writers (and all those who have helped them) have done an incredible job, and as we grow nearer to filming I know the story will really come together.
A year from now
I will be long gone
-on a sea somewhere far away
miles from home
an insurmountable distance from home
A year from now
you will be coming home
to see your parents
and your friends,
a job and a break
A year from now
the sea will rage at night
and I will want to come home
Dramamine by the bucketfuls
'Down the hatch!"
A year from now
I will be pulling into a far away port
a new land-
foreign, different, awesome
expensive and indifference to my existence
much like the spinning clock is
to the fly on the shorthand.
I will miss the essence of summer
but I trade it for a life of adventure
a commitment to
adventures' memories
Travel in exchange for the feeling of
what home is
My only hope
is to see the world
- a year from now
I will be doing it
and dreams I
will stay true
-nevertheless.
HOLY BALLS
I will do my best to not spoil the whole freakin book for you.
Okay, now that that's out of my system, we can talk about Rorschach. After reading D's post, I really feel the music he included really characterizes Rorschach correctly. The haunting music coupled with the maddening swirling of Love Shack gives us insight into what Rorschach's mind must be like. His unequivocal dark outlook on life and his speech pattern leave little doubt into what kind of person he is; one that wants all the bad in the world to burn.
However, does this make him an evil character? Yes, he has killed and is know for his brutality, but he does it for the right reasons. Ultimately, his need to do the right thing surpasses every other desire. His insanity, or perhaps the comedy of the situation is that Rorschach does the right thing the wrong way. His killing, pain, and outlook on life is extremely dark, leaving little room for him to find the good in the world. Regardless, he looks for the good and supports innocent humanity constantly. He is a walking insane paradox far too complex to synthesize in one sitting.
In the end, I feel that the contrast in Rorschach's being can be symbolized as black and white. So many of his motifs are clearly evil, but are clouded in the ability to do the right thing. Much like his mask, he is open to interpretation. Was he truly insane, or did he just see things that much more clearly than the rest of us?
At least Night Owl has his mind together... oh wait
The night sky is opening slowly; I stand in your wake. The moon reflects emotions of yesterday's character sketches. The leather on pavement echoes longingly down the ally. The detectives cigarette is smoldering despite the rain; the embers fell into the ally only to be met by a puddle and instant extinguishing.
Many days he came into work and filed reports about unimportant situations. Parking tickets, drug busts, and the all to often event of kids smoking pot behind buildings. If the youth are what make us... what the hell is next then? Indeed, is his outlook was not a cheery one. He was, however, weary of for the future fore he knew the cycle of drug addiction well. His old wounds hung heavy; he needed his pills to make it through the day.
Of course the doctors knew he was in pain, but the refills never came fast enough. Before the rain, he prided himself on his fortitude- the ability to say no. The rain, the damming rain kept coming for days on end. The world has never seen rain like this; three months continual. The flooding caused the city to shut down. Only the upper section of the city was free of water. The high plateau serves a similar purpose as the prophetic ark did all those years ago.
END PART 1
*as we grow closer to the end of senior year, I have felt myself slip away from blogging. I intend to write a short story (or at least try to anyway) with the time I have left. Each week, I will add a part to this story. I hope to create something that I like.
First of all, I would like to express my gratitude to all the people here in this room. I wouldn't have been able to be where I am today without the guidance of so many that are here today. Growing up in this area and going to Mt. Blue has meant the world to me. Being from this area, we are exposed to a culture that values athletic determination, musical excellence, and most of all its successful students heading into a world all their own. Indeed, the place we are heading will be compared to the days of yore. Our generation will face fair share of challenges; albeit ubiquitous and taxing, however, we can look back to time more strenuous than and learn from our forefathers. For example, we can learn from our grandparents and the struggle they endured. I often times think of what my grandmother Franchetti and Fortin when I think of endurance. Both of these ladies were born into a world that had nothing; the great depression was in full swing, the crops seemed to struggle once more, and in far off places a man was elected and gathered a following unmatched to this day. They knew nothing of the luxurious we have today; each winter they would walk their respective schools through harsh winters and were always expected to be on time regardless. Once they reached their high school years, the man in Europe had invaded Poland and Americans everywhere were affected. Rationing, the draft, and the sheer weight of war hung heavy over the heads of many youth, but their spirit never wavered. They shook hands with adversity, and made the best of what now seems like one of the most adverse moments in the American Continuum.
In a passing conversation about days gone by, my grandmothers.... They both abided by strict rules that carried into their own households In a time of seemly unending financial struggle, our community game a great gift its youth.
Preheat notebook to 400 degrees. Be sure to fill pen and open Spotify.
Combine Over Analyzation, Awkward Conversation, Interior Dialogue, and Ability to Create in separate bowl.
Add remaining ingredients one at a time (except egg). Make sure to keep blender on highest speed as to whip the mixture together.
Once throughly mixed, place ingredients in notebook.
Wait about 30 minutes. Be sure to proofread finished product.
Finally, take egg and throw it against building for which you have the most adolescent disdain. Upon the splattering of yolk, begin process once more. Make sure to take a photograph.
