crossovers

while doing work for another project, i discover a great location for this one.

fiction #9 mayhaps?

it's rank with piss, but the light is amazing. it feels so off-putting and otherworldly. and the blue of the tiles is such and odd color it makes you feel sick. i love it.

and because it deserves its own post

happy together (1997)

wong kar-wai + christopher doyle

= beautifully shot films.

days of being wild (1990)

chungking express (1994)

fallen angels (2005)

in the mood for love (2000)

2046 (2004)

i can't sleep - fiction #7 (shaf)

The memories from last night came back slow as dripping honey. He remembered a pair of eyes, the bridge of a nose, a gap between teeth when he smiled at him. He remembered an earlobe, how he leaned toward him and whispered over the din of music. He remembered laughing, something funny he had said. He remembered boredom, then spontaneous conversation. He remembered the sticky-sweet smell of alcohol when he spoke. He remembered there were no introductions. He remembered a fat wallet, and that there was never a moment without a glass in his hand, liquor tipping over the brim.

And then nothing. The memory faded abruptly, the movie he played in his head ripped off the screen. He lay in the bathtub, sunlight peeking through the crack in the doorframe, and tried to focus, to take back anything more from the lost night. He stood at the precipice of his memory, and what stared back was a vast, black sea. Retracing, he remembered filling the tub, submerging himself so only his face was out of the water. He remembered his empty pockets, his torn shirt, and begging the cab driver for a free ride home. He remembered waking up in a stupor, vomit caked on his cheek, in a field by the side of the road. And all before that, a nose, a smile, a pair of eyes that burned away at him. The look that that night made him believe all the clichés. But no matter how hard he'd wrestle with the fragments, it was a face that he could never, ever piece together.

fuck

i just realized

all the females (and feminine male) are looking to the left

and all the males are looking to the right.

i did not plan this.

why did it happen? was there some psychology behind this?

i have subconsciously gendered my entire project.

i hate not being in control. fuck.

fiction #sam

i need to start writing again. it's hard to get out of this block though. i find it easier to come up with scenarios and images, but when i get the contact sheet all the images seem scattered and unfocused. that might be a good thing as i have more options, but it also means the fictions that come afterward are that much more complicated to write.

inquisitive? curious? bored?

voyeuristic? scheming?

i'm spoiled for choice. i don't want to be spoiled.

another unwritten fiction

sam + sliver light + twisted smiles + another unwritten fiction, in the can

the camerawoman is now the model.

thanks bb.

commendations

for one-second exposures, these turned out crazy sharp. and, NOT OVEREXPOSED. good job jon. good job me.

fiction #6 in the can

ready for pickup at 12pm tomorrow.

please god don't let them be overexposed.

a sliver of light, freaks and geeks

door-slightly-ajar-in-a-darkened-room light

or, hiding-in-the-closet light

but, there must be a second very faint general light, or the only detail will be in the small band of light. have an accent light.

ryan mcginley's breakthroughs

a selection from a ny times magazine portfolio by ryan mcginley of academy award-nominated actors in 2007.

interesting light, use this.

this is similar, ditto.

greenish florescent?

use reds more