And this one is specially dedicated to my friend Matt:
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
YouTube Parade
I just wrapped a short called "The Magic Finger," directed by JR Burningham and produced by Tess Ortbals (who apparently doesn't have her own website, and therefore doesn't exist), and it was a blast. There was a live duck, for example, who was very well-behaved. Also, JR and Tess are phenomenally good people, and everybody else involved was extra fab, so it was easily one of the best shoots I've had in a while. Hooray for heartwarming Hollywood experiences! Better than chicken soup for the soul, except for having to wake up at 4:30am on a couple of the shoot days. That part is more like moldy, sour grapes for the soul. Ick.
Anyway, below is an assortment of various YouTubery that I've been enjoying lately, take a gander and see how loopy I am.
Howard Jones, "The Prisoner" This is an extremely rare view of a camera being professionally wielded by a woman -- only imagine! The music video plays with some interesting concepts (photography as a form of 'capturing' somebody, manipulation of a person's image signifying a shift in power between the manipulator and manipulated, blah blah hermeneutic crap blah blah), plus it has Howard Jones being all 80's-style soulful, so I love this thing. I don't get the bride-with-a-syringe imagery in the middle (Bridezilla will sedate you, monkey boy?), plus there are so many ripoffs (er, homages) of classic photos that it really makes one's head spin, so consider yourself warned.
Channel 4 'Get set for digital' MAX HEADROOM LIVES! OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY! I would totally smooch Max Headroom. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. Granted, I might be reduced to licking a TV monitor, but I still say it would be worth it. Yowza.
Here Comes Another Bubble - The Richter Scales Fun rant in song format about Internet bubbles, sung to the tune of "We Didn't Start the Fire." Surprisingly entertaining, at least for me, and I think we've already established that I am very, very easily entertained; for goodness' sake, I'm now licking TV screens. Sigh.
Dylan Moran - Monster He completely switches gears midway, but all gears are clearly labeled 'Awesome.' I have never seen such a terrifically thorough portrait of a stereotypical French starving artist in my life.
Ze Frank - "Privacy" Ze is not to everybody's taste, but I still think he's neato. He makes going to hell in a handbag sound good, or at least entertaining.
"very creepy, disturbing children's cartoon, banned from TV" This was brought to my attention by my friend Jason, and boy howdy is this video riveting. RIVETING. What can I say? I'm a sucker for brilliant claymation.
100 Movies, 100 Quotes, 100 Numbers
AND the entire film clip list for "100 Movies," above This is such a great idea, I'm kicking myself for not having thought of it first.
Zero Gravity Water Bubble Hypnotic.
"Man Cold" from Man Stroke Woman Why ARE guys such weenies when they're ill? Most interesting.
Anyway, below is an assortment of various YouTubery that I've been enjoying lately, take a gander and see how loopy I am.
Howard Jones, "The Prisoner" This is an extremely rare view of a camera being professionally wielded by a woman -- only imagine! The music video plays with some interesting concepts (photography as a form of 'capturing' somebody, manipulation of a person's image signifying a shift in power between the manipulator and manipulated, blah blah hermeneutic crap blah blah), plus it has Howard Jones being all 80's-style soulful, so I love this thing. I don't get the bride-with-a-syringe imagery in the middle (Bridezilla will sedate you, monkey boy?), plus there are so many ripoffs (er, homages) of classic photos that it really makes one's head spin, so consider yourself warned.
Channel 4 'Get set for digital' MAX HEADROOM LIVES! OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY! I would totally smooch Max Headroom. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. Granted, I might be reduced to licking a TV monitor, but I still say it would be worth it. Yowza.
Here Comes Another Bubble - The Richter Scales Fun rant in song format about Internet bubbles, sung to the tune of "We Didn't Start the Fire." Surprisingly entertaining, at least for me, and I think we've already established that I am very, very easily entertained; for goodness' sake, I'm now licking TV screens. Sigh.
Dylan Moran - Monster He completely switches gears midway, but all gears are clearly labeled 'Awesome.' I have never seen such a terrifically thorough portrait of a stereotypical French starving artist in my life.
Ze Frank - "Privacy" Ze is not to everybody's taste, but I still think he's neato. He makes going to hell in a handbag sound good, or at least entertaining.
"very creepy, disturbing children's cartoon, banned from TV" This was brought to my attention by my friend Jason, and boy howdy is this video riveting. RIVETING. What can I say? I'm a sucker for brilliant claymation.
100 Movies, 100 Quotes, 100 Numbers
AND the entire film clip list for "100 Movies," above This is such a great idea, I'm kicking myself for not having thought of it first.
Zero Gravity Water Bubble Hypnotic.
"Man Cold" from Man Stroke Woman Why ARE guys such weenies when they're ill? Most interesting.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
T-shirt designs
Okay, I have four T-shirt designs I just cooked up. They're not officially on Cafe Press yet The I [RO] NY, Sexier In Semaphore, and Kiss Me / I'm Leprous designs are now on sale at Cafe Press! I just wanted to get an overall sense of what people like or don't like first, as well as preferred sizing etc. Let me know if you'd like to purchase Acrimony & Cheez or I'm Leprous as well. Here they are:
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Happy zany holidays! Over and out, ten-four good buddy.
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Happy zany holidays! Over and out, ten-four good buddy.
Monday, December 3, 2007
enough with the preening, already
Okay, no more bragging about myself for today. I'm rapidly approaching the point where my apparent excellence is so blinding that I'd like to stab my eyes out with a fork and cement the deal. Yeesh.
Instead, I'd like to brag on somebody else's behalf this afternoon before I finally go and get a belated lunch: Nick Patera. Just watch this.
Nick is a god. A GOD. You go, girl.
Instead, I'd like to brag on somebody else's behalf this afternoon before I finally go and get a belated lunch: Nick Patera. Just watch this.
Nick is a god. A GOD. You go, girl.
I'm the best producer who never was
I hate producing. I hate all the phone calls, and the amassing of resources and personnel, and the keeping track of money, and the constant panicking; it all seems so petty to me. Being a DP is much more relaxing; at the very least, it has a stress that actually energizes me, makes me happy, and keeps me feeling like I'm on the cutting edge of fabulousness. People may be yelling about losing daylight and the actor's threatening to walk and the generator having just died, but I pride myself on my Laser Death Ray Artist Vision, which cuts through irrationality, space, time, and egos, thus enabling me to Make Necessary Shit Happen.
It's not like I leave a wasteland of smoking ruins or anything, although that would be pretty cool. I merely state the obvious (which is usually half the battle -- people seem to like living in denial a lot), and then present what I consider the best strategy, with full explanations and zero smugness or pandering. It's stupidly simple, and feels very raw and immediate, even physical, like I'm bashing people's heads together with basic, implacable words of truth. It's like being able to tame a wild horse, or getting a two-year-old to take a nap. I've always been good at slicing through raging storms on set, and it makes me feel at least ten feet tall every time things are resolved to everybody's grudging satisfaction.
This is part of the reason I love being a DP. Even at its most disorganized, zero-communication, crew-with-no-lunch-after seven-hours, rock-bottom worst, it's still exhilarating when I finally get to move mountains an inch to the left. Yeehay.
Today, though, was a petty producer day, a day devoted to quibbling over minutiae, but I've still managed to emerge triumphant over the irritations, which kind of surprises me; this is not my usual, comfortable domain of logical head-bashing. I just got the rental houses EVS and Pro HD into a bidding war over equipment I'm renting for a no-budget shoot this weekend, and I managed to cut their rental day rates in half. IN HALF. And there was no arm-twisting, no veiled (or overt) threats, no yelling about having to speak to the manager. I just kept calling back and forth, being Li'l Miss Apologetic Cinematographer ("I'd hate to get you embroiled in a bidding war with each other, but..."), schmoozing like a lean, mean (okay, not mean), schmoozing machine, and I turned out to be The Ultimate Ace Producer. Who'd'a thunk?
It's very satisfying, but I still prefer to lurk behind a camera. It's harder to eat donuts on set when you're constantly freaking out at people on the phone and have to keep your mouth clear of donut debris, you know? Donuts first, panicking second. Let it never be said that I am a woman with a screwed up set of priorities.
It's not like I leave a wasteland of smoking ruins or anything, although that would be pretty cool. I merely state the obvious (which is usually half the battle -- people seem to like living in denial a lot), and then present what I consider the best strategy, with full explanations and zero smugness or pandering. It's stupidly simple, and feels very raw and immediate, even physical, like I'm bashing people's heads together with basic, implacable words of truth. It's like being able to tame a wild horse, or getting a two-year-old to take a nap. I've always been good at slicing through raging storms on set, and it makes me feel at least ten feet tall every time things are resolved to everybody's grudging satisfaction.
This is part of the reason I love being a DP. Even at its most disorganized, zero-communication, crew-with-no-lunch-after seven-hours, rock-bottom worst, it's still exhilarating when I finally get to move mountains an inch to the left. Yeehay.
Today, though, was a petty producer day, a day devoted to quibbling over minutiae, but I've still managed to emerge triumphant over the irritations, which kind of surprises me; this is not my usual, comfortable domain of logical head-bashing. I just got the rental houses EVS and Pro HD into a bidding war over equipment I'm renting for a no-budget shoot this weekend, and I managed to cut their rental day rates in half. IN HALF. And there was no arm-twisting, no veiled (or overt) threats, no yelling about having to speak to the manager. I just kept calling back and forth, being Li'l Miss Apologetic Cinematographer ("I'd hate to get you embroiled in a bidding war with each other, but..."), schmoozing like a lean, mean (okay, not mean), schmoozing machine, and I turned out to be The Ultimate Ace Producer. Who'd'a thunk?
It's very satisfying, but I still prefer to lurk behind a camera. It's harder to eat donuts on set when you're constantly freaking out at people on the phone and have to keep your mouth clear of donut debris, you know? Donuts first, panicking second. Let it never be said that I am a woman with a screwed up set of priorities.
I'm in the SOC! I think.
Okay, this is weird -- I think I was just made a member of the Society of Camera Operators. But I'm not sure.
See, I'm newly listed as a member on their roster, but have I received an official letter of welcome yet? No. This may be because the stoopid post office is still holding my mail, even though they should have delivered everything by Friday last, and perhaps the letter is sitting there. But I did call the SOC last week and leave a message about this, and I wrote to the SOC webmaster about this, and has anybody gotten back to me with clarification? Sadly, no. I am baffled, which I always pronounce "baff led."
So, if I'm really a member, and they didn't list a different Astrid Phillips who also applied at the same time I did, then HUZZAH I SAY. This means I get to hobnob with camera operators and hifalutin' DPs who are in the American Society of Cinematographers, which is beyond awesome. Many thanks to everybody who offered to be a reference for me, you are absolute dears.
Actually, just saying 'hobnob' and 'hifalutin'' in the same sentence is beyond awesome already.
Back to the point: if, on the other hand, it's really a different Astrid Phillips (not probable, but still possible), then I will be seriously peeved. I will have to hunt down my doppelgänger and, by virtue of merely shaking her hand, we will annihilate the space-time continuum as we know it. That would be intriguing, except for the actual annihilation part.
So, if you're in the SOC, and you can clear this all up, then please do so; that would be most excellently fab. Thanks.
See, I'm newly listed as a member on their roster, but have I received an official letter of welcome yet? No. This may be because the stoopid post office is still holding my mail, even though they should have delivered everything by Friday last, and perhaps the letter is sitting there. But I did call the SOC last week and leave a message about this, and I wrote to the SOC webmaster about this, and has anybody gotten back to me with clarification? Sadly, no. I am baffled, which I always pronounce "baff led."
So, if I'm really a member, and they didn't list a different Astrid Phillips who also applied at the same time I did, then HUZZAH I SAY. This means I get to hobnob with camera operators and hifalutin' DPs who are in the American Society of Cinematographers, which is beyond awesome. Many thanks to everybody who offered to be a reference for me, you are absolute dears.
Actually, just saying 'hobnob' and 'hifalutin'' in the same sentence is beyond awesome already.
Back to the point: if, on the other hand, it's really a different Astrid Phillips (not probable, but still possible), then I will be seriously peeved. I will have to hunt down my doppelgänger and, by virtue of merely shaking her hand, we will annihilate the space-time continuum as we know it. That would be intriguing, except for the actual annihilation part.
So, if you're in the SOC, and you can clear this all up, then please do so; that would be most excellently fab. Thanks.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
29 + 1
A certain somebody has said that my blog would gain coolness points if I allowed anonymous comments. So, I am handing over the keys of the asylum to the inmates: you no longer have to be a registered Blogger user to comment on my inanities. Have at it.
Also, for those of you who like snooping into my blog-reading habits, I now keep an automatic, continuously updated list on this site of article links which I recommend. This will hopefully cut into my rather tedious linkyloos, which, let's face it, I only do in order to clear out my brain so that I don't go insane from all the unshared coolness I constantly find in this world. If I'm going to go insane, let's hope it's for a far more entertaining reason. Like, say, demonic possession. I've seen The Exorcist, and you know, I think my life could use a little excitement along those lines. "What's wrong with vomiting a little pea soup here and there?" is what I frequently say to people.
Moving right along, I am now thirty years old. I had hoped I'd magically wake up feeling like an adult, but that has yet to happen. I've started flossing again, actually, but that's more because I'm back in touch with my zany ol' college pal Jimmy, who has now become Dr. James Boynton, adjunct professor of pediatric dentistry at the University of Michigan, and even if a dentist makes a point of NOT telling me to floss, the unspoken guilt trip is still there and I start flossing again anyway. Regarding Jimmy: we're talking about a dentist who, in our freshman year at Michigan, told me that he wanted a dental drill which would hum the theme to "Love Boat," which would make folks that much happier about visiting their dentist (ideally Jimmy). So, if anybody out there has any leads regarding drills which can play "Love Boat," let me know. There's already a Japanese guy who figured out how to make road bumps play music, which might be a potential avenue (hee!) of inquiry.
Other than the flossing and lack of demonic possession, there's not much else to report on The Astrid Frontier currently. I threw a slow-motion party, which I call 'slow motion' because it was more of an open house stretched across a whole day, which was very chill and very cool. And I've had turkey with my mom's homemade stuffing, along with that excellent cranberry sauce which retains the ridges from the can it came in. And I got to see the inside of the Yale Club in Manhattan for the second time in my life, and you know, I still say they don't have nearly enough mounted elk heads on their walls yet. There are a few, but they still have a ways to go, those Yalies.
OH, WAIT A SEC: I made a new website! I've been stricken with the flu for the past few days, which is why I haven't been up to much, but just before the flu hit, and just before I got to see how few elk heads those silly Yale people have in their silly, not-nearly-elk-headed-enough club, I made a website! This is the website I made:
What the doctor saw
I am very proud of this site, but not because of my own work -- really, it's because I'm proud of my dad's work, since my dad is the doctor in question. The site is a showcase of his photography, and even if he weren't my dad, I'd still have to say: he gives a very convincing impression of knowing what he's doing. Go check it out, then e-mail him and tell him how awesome he is. Don't tell him I sent you, or he'll think I bribed you.
Here are some phrases I've been using entirely too often:
loose cannon
madness & mayhem
29 + 1
Here is a word I haven't used often enough:
blurgh
What I consider an elegant centerpiece idea:
A ring of blue Jell-O, with gummy fish suspended within it
Who else agrees with me about the Jell-O centerpiece idea:
Jimmy
My current favorite literary heroine, second only to Jane Eyre:
Dagny Taggart (from Atlas Shrugged, which I'm currently reading)
Here is what I don't get about Atlas Shrugged:
Why is everybody always kissing each other so violently? Once or twice, okay, but every time? Weirdos.
Something which just popped into my head:
What if you had a wall which was jammed full of mounted elk heads? I mean, to the point where you couldn't even see the wall any more, so it's just a solid mass of elk heads staring at you? And what if each of those heads suddenly burst into song, doing a full choir rendition of "I Feel Pretty" from the film West Side Story?
Welcome to my brain, everyone. The information desk is temporarily closed, the cafeteria downstairs is currently serving an excellent pea soup, and don't forget to visit the gift shop at the main entrance. Tipping the coat check guy is optional, but always appreciated.
Also, for those of you who like snooping into my blog-reading habits, I now keep an automatic, continuously updated list on this site of article links which I recommend. This will hopefully cut into my rather tedious linkyloos, which, let's face it, I only do in order to clear out my brain so that I don't go insane from all the unshared coolness I constantly find in this world. If I'm going to go insane, let's hope it's for a far more entertaining reason. Like, say, demonic possession. I've seen The Exorcist, and you know, I think my life could use a little excitement along those lines. "What's wrong with vomiting a little pea soup here and there?" is what I frequently say to people.
Moving right along, I am now thirty years old. I had hoped I'd magically wake up feeling like an adult, but that has yet to happen. I've started flossing again, actually, but that's more because I'm back in touch with my zany ol' college pal Jimmy, who has now become Dr. James Boynton, adjunct professor of pediatric dentistry at the University of Michigan, and even if a dentist makes a point of NOT telling me to floss, the unspoken guilt trip is still there and I start flossing again anyway. Regarding Jimmy: we're talking about a dentist who, in our freshman year at Michigan, told me that he wanted a dental drill which would hum the theme to "Love Boat," which would make folks that much happier about visiting their dentist (ideally Jimmy). So, if anybody out there has any leads regarding drills which can play "Love Boat," let me know. There's already a Japanese guy who figured out how to make road bumps play music, which might be a potential avenue (hee!) of inquiry.
Other than the flossing and lack of demonic possession, there's not much else to report on The Astrid Frontier currently. I threw a slow-motion party, which I call 'slow motion' because it was more of an open house stretched across a whole day, which was very chill and very cool. And I've had turkey with my mom's homemade stuffing, along with that excellent cranberry sauce which retains the ridges from the can it came in. And I got to see the inside of the Yale Club in Manhattan for the second time in my life, and you know, I still say they don't have nearly enough mounted elk heads on their walls yet. There are a few, but they still have a ways to go, those Yalies.
OH, WAIT A SEC: I made a new website! I've been stricken with the flu for the past few days, which is why I haven't been up to much, but just before the flu hit, and just before I got to see how few elk heads those silly Yale people have in their silly, not-nearly-elk-headed-enough club, I made a website! This is the website I made:
What the doctor saw
I am very proud of this site, but not because of my own work -- really, it's because I'm proud of my dad's work, since my dad is the doctor in question. The site is a showcase of his photography, and even if he weren't my dad, I'd still have to say: he gives a very convincing impression of knowing what he's doing. Go check it out, then e-mail him and tell him how awesome he is. Don't tell him I sent you, or he'll think I bribed you.
Here are some phrases I've been using entirely too often:
loose cannon
madness & mayhem
29 + 1
Here is a word I haven't used often enough:
blurgh
What I consider an elegant centerpiece idea:
A ring of blue Jell-O, with gummy fish suspended within it
Who else agrees with me about the Jell-O centerpiece idea:
Jimmy
My current favorite literary heroine, second only to Jane Eyre:
Dagny Taggart (from Atlas Shrugged, which I'm currently reading)
Here is what I don't get about Atlas Shrugged:
Why is everybody always kissing each other so violently? Once or twice, okay, but every time? Weirdos.
Something which just popped into my head:
What if you had a wall which was jammed full of mounted elk heads? I mean, to the point where you couldn't even see the wall any more, so it's just a solid mass of elk heads staring at you? And what if each of those heads suddenly burst into song, doing a full choir rendition of "I Feel Pretty" from the film West Side Story?
Welcome to my brain, everyone. The information desk is temporarily closed, the cafeteria downstairs is currently serving an excellent pea soup, and don't forget to visit the gift shop at the main entrance. Tipping the coat check guy is optional, but always appreciated.
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