Five, Eight, and inhale: regret, animation, pocket monsters, one tank top, two tank tops- exhale: clean-up key-frames, hang a photograph, Showtime.
Travel, distance, an hour of humidity that makes my choice of tank top more clear. It would have been more fun though, had not a tremendous surge of popularity crashed down on technical servers, waves of what I imagine are a 3pm rush of school children, but what time zone, and what are they when they wander sleepless in the heat of noon. Noon. 8 hours until Dark.
Dark Toons. Rooftop Film Festival; yet no. Thursday June 7th, 2016. we regret (there it is again) to inform that it’s the courtyard! Surprise! Original intention. Emerge from subway and evaluate. Is that the sea? What is Industry City? Food court, unavailable Jaime says. Pizza. You cannot simply walk into Industry City, you must dive. Plunge into a corridor of buildings, flat and grey like a shooting gallery I saw in a science fiction TV show. A comforting sprinkle of electric lights, a tiki bar, confusion as to where I would put in many places a screening of animated films, but I am always the one the miss the obvious. “Next door,” says the bartender, attending her own “-cosm” (suffix). Eventually these people, diners, drinkers smokers all will drift into our show
MUSIC. Katie Von Schleicher. An act made to be enjoyed, influenced, calmed by. I cannot find peace in the chair, nor peace in caricature as my pen falters on the drummer’s countenance. Let us go, let us go be somewhere else, my eye does not cruelly fall exactly, as I walk down an aisle that forces me to question my Frozen© heart. Hugs. A cuddly pleasure many in New York find fun to do upon immediately seeing someone. Princess Leah. I will not pass up hugs, it jars me from my previous thoughts. I eventually find better eyes on the drummer, but it’s over. The elfin singer works with a manic guitarist who has the energy of a dad with 3 children, reliving rock n roll, a man with rolling long hair plays opposite them (over the drummer) stroke, chord, sound, “Bleaksploitation,” waves, walking behind the inflatable screen that always seems silly, like a bounce house, enjoying a nothing view
Sunday Lunch (Celine Devaux | France | 14 min.) man, black on white, etched, carved or printed, yellow tinge like an oxidizing raw sapling, jittery he goes to lunch, drunk, to be drunk again, with a mother embarrassingly erotic, in a life too bourgeois for him to be bothered by his coming out, just drink till father will talk to me, a laissez faire attitude, plates and people arms washing not afraid to spill into song, dance, musical
Forgotten Reason (Peter Larsson | Sweden | 14 min.)
Do you know expanse, vegetation, lakes, a clear sky bountiful horizon of stillness mindlessness alone, alone in heads like walnuts that could be faces at only one angle, large crinkled sacs that the stop motion puppets themselves cannot help to be reduced to poking, over, and over, and thru, as this film drudges you through something you thought you knew and look for desperately to come to a conclusion
Later, Stella, Line, Photo of Q&A. (Mickey Duzjy, Sarah Miskoff, Jonathan Seligson, Leah Shore)
The Shining Star of Losers Everywhere (Mickey Duzjy | USA / Japan | 18 min.) Horse, Haru Urara, 100 losses at Kōchi Racetrack, #donotmesswith, but still seems hardly animated, mostly live action. A few poses and tracebacks, not recreating footage because clearly it was there, but perhaps it needed a cute touch that I wouldn’t call kawaii.
editor’s update: the story of this horse is extremely inspiring. its fun to experience in any medium
Crew du COOKIES (Leah Shore | USA | 1 min.). Eating films always make me feel weird, but shitting a tree is so absurd you can’t be scared by it. Holiday cards also are rare opportunities to splash yourself and leak out to be Freudian analysis (not to mention what holiday are we celebrating) How slowly do you have to draw dripping brown goo over breasts
Beer achieved. Hallo Stephen. Discussion, advice, keywords. TheDumbestShitIEverSaw. You are what you animate:
Rows, elevated lights strung on off, once, different, brighter, with high cordoned plants that are wispy leaved, like elites looking down from their penthouses. Addiction, nicotine, spied nice guy with cigarettes, turn to be rolled, made specially for me, just to be nice, a nice Scottish couple who have other ideas when I say that I think the space is like a European plaza. Polite, chat, a cigarette that fades dénouement into other, more of the same until we drift back, back with the tide that takes us north across the city to our respective shells that animators are fond of hermitizing, drawing or writing their sacred dramas that are irrelevant of understanding