Hue's Blog

Harold Pinter

In his essay "Writing for the Theatre" Harold Pinter writes about talking and silence.

There are two silences. One when no word is spoken. The other when perhaps a torrent of language is being employed...The speech we hear is an indication of that which we don't hear. It is a necessary avoidance, a violent, sly, anguished or mocking smoke screen which keeps the other in its place...One way of looking at speech is to say that it is a constant stratagem to cover nakedness.

I thought about this while writing Saint John of Las Vegas. At one point John surrenders to his gambling demons, in a minimart.  Embarrassed, he launches into a tirade.  Instead of saying "I can't believe how weak I am" he says (to the counter girl):

You gotta be lucky...luc-ky...are you lucky?  That’s a dumb question.  I know you are.  I can feel you...no, not like that, I mean you feel lucky, it feels lucky...in here...whew!  But it is hot...does that bother you?  That they keep it hot in here?  Maybe it’s good for the food...keeps it fresh...although you’d think it’d be better cold...for freshness. (beat) Fresh-ness.

The Coming Revolution in Indie Distribution

"Last November inside a conference room at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles, a film consultant named Peter Broderick was doing his best to foment a revolution. Mr. Broderick, who helps filmmakers find their way into the marketplace, was spreading the word on an Internet-era approach to releasing movies that he believes empowers filmmakers without impoverishing them economically or emotionally. Mr. Broderick divides distribution into the Old World and New, infusing his PowerPoint presentation with insurgent rhetoric."

via www.nytimes.com

There is a saying, meant to temper the enthusiasm of film students, which goes "it's not show art, it's show business." But these filmmakers, defying the odds and the numbers to get their films out, highlight the root of all art, which is the irrational compulsion to express.

Your Brand Here

Seth Godin raises an issue that affects all of us trying to establish ourselves as creative professionals.  On the one hand, we need to work.  On the other hand, we are defined by the body of work we do.  Does the project in front of you advance your career, or set it back?  At what point is any job better than no job?  He says:

"Surviving is succeeding, no doubt about it. Doing the work is better than not doing the work. Waiting for perfect is never as smart as making progress. But, and it's a huge but, you define yourself by the work you do, and perhaps you need to redefine what you're willing to take and where you're looking for it."

You can read his entire blog post here.

Faith

I was 29 years old in 2001.  I worked for Kmart online as a technical product manager.  I had never taken an art class, but I dreamed of making movies.  I wrote stories before work and on weekends.  I had only confided in one person - my friend Brendan Foley.  So when he invited me to his Oscar party, I went.

Who hasn't fantasized about what they would say in their Oscar acceptance speech?  Who doesn't dream a little during that show?  But that night I felt embarrassed about my dreams.  I was an engineer, sitting on Brendan's couch, eating chips.  That was my reality.

Then Steven Soderbergh won his Oscar.  He said "I want to thank anyone who spends part of their day creating."  By saying "part of their day" he was including me too.  Sitting in the dark, watching TV with my co-workers, I felt my self-consciousness melt away, dissolved by a tiny ember of faith.