Being The Camera

Shot from knee height, a distant cityscape transitioning through suburbs to wilderness in the foreground, clearly infested with the detritus of human activity. Wind annoys the microphone.

Raise the camera up and back from a clear, straight section of road to a rangy and rambling weed-broken, glass-littered extent. Fast forward as the seasons change and weeds run rampant amongst the shards. A pause while the light changes enough to glint on sharp edges. Pan and close in on the face of a woman in sun glasses standing by the road. Pan out to view her in a billowy white dress, a rock in her hand.

Now we're ready for action: Her fingers open.

The End.

Closing credits over a frozen image of the rock in mid-air.

Those willing to read the credits will notice that the focus changes gradually from the ever falling rock to a broken window in the far, far background, behind and slightly above her head.

We hear a car pass nearby, the sound of tires on asphalt.

(I'm not sure what should be reflected in the sunglasses lenses. I had to fight the urge to shatter one of them.)

::

What a trip writing that last sentence turned out to be, when I saw what I had written.

You are awesome!

You really, really are.



Best of the season to you and yours.

May all your days be holidays
and all the world a gift.

Creative Juggling

Now, this I think is a strategy worth always keeping in mind:
". . . rather than make your creative decisions up front . . . you delay them as long as possible."

Whether you're telling a story, making art or coming to conclusions, keep as much in the air as you can at one time, and the result will be all the richer for having done so.