If I Could Keep Time in a Circle

Ride a Painted Pony
There are an almost endless array of phrases to sum up life’s fortunes; Wheel of Fortune, What Goes Up Must Come Down, What Goes Around Comes Around, Day in the Sun, Every Dog Has His Day, Enjoy it While You Can. Of course, there are more, each culture has there faith based variation. Luck, fate, circumstance, equal/opposite reactions and more. Even science has its own. What’s here today is not permanent. Everything is in a stage of flux, change, and decay. Nothing is as it seems. All of this added up, rolled up, pulled together, spun around, purified and redistributed in its pure form leaves you with some glaring constants: Time and circles. Time may or may not move in a straight line. However, events along that line, when not specified, do appear to move in a circle. When You’re Hot, You’re Hot, When You’re Not, You’re Not. Biorhythms. You Can Make Yourself Happy. Seeing is Believing. Visualize. Eye on the Prize. Optimism and fate walking hand in hand with hard work and uncertainty.

Luck Making
Do we make luck? I believe we do contribute to something referred to as luck. Where we position ourselves in life and how choose to interpret events help to build luck. And I mean both good luck and bad luck. However, you can’t have one forever. Of course, you can embrace ONLY the type that you desire and deemphasize the one that is harder to fathom or is not as appealing. People who say they have bad luck usually do two things: create most if not all of their bad luck and/or do not acknowledge the good things that have fallen into their lap. The reverse goes for those people who are considered lucky. However, I do believe there’s about 8-10% of luck that we cannot account for, maybe only 5%, but this is enough to give many-many a reason relinquish their own responsibly and need for action and leave “it” in the hands of the intangible.

Here and Now
I am experiencing a cart where one wheel is turning in one direction at one speed and another is turning the opposite way at a different speed, still another seems to need a good deal of grease to get moving in any direction and the remaining one looks as if it needs some repairs or its going to fail. Yeah, this is my metaphor. There are some things going very well and some things that have my concerned. Without sharing details, I can say that I have had a simultaneous run of good and bad luck. Both are my own creations. The luck I have is due to how I positioned myself in my life at a certain moment and how I chose to interpret events. Much of my luck has been created by how I’ve learned to handle situations differently and hopefully better than I used to. However, mistakes occur and results soon follow. A key for me is to follow two or even more paths at one time without being pulled, pushed or torn along they. This is why my “cart” is of great use as its four wheels can act independently. I follow a path resulting on my active choices without assigning any attachment to choice not made or the desired outcome of the choice that was made. Building toward a goal or goals is so much easier when you’re able to absorb the bumps and failings without ruing or dreaming too much.

Jobs Plays Films
I have two callback auditions in my future and I’m very excited about keeping theater in my life, especially at this time. I am also going to be helping with of a friend’s new adapted script. Also, I will be performing in a very small role in an exciting upcoming production. With regards to film making I just put the finishing touches on the fourth installment of the Behold a Great Warrior; the Right Season. To see this film, please go here. In fact to view all of the installments please click the titles below.

http://www.youtube.com/user/KingFireAntProds

Behold a Great Warrior

The Rhyme in the Song

This is Self Evident

The Right Season

Ode to Joy of Animation

The Good Old Days
I remember cartoons in two senses. First, of course, involves the childhood double whammy of Saturday morning extravaganzas and the Disney epics from long before I was born up through the mid 80’s. This was before the era of digital animation. I was a fan of many of them and would watch them whenever I could. The second involves a small group of visual artists, painters and such, that I maintained friendships with who started exploring computer animation back in the early 1990’s as a way to basically embrace, by incorporating, modern technology into their artistic souls - I think. Disney and Pixar were just starting to make animated films using computers as well. Due to where I was in my life at that time I was not very interested as an artist or as a voyeur.

Recent Explorations
I have recently been intrigued to build a small animated film. I’m not sure what inspired me other than the interesting idea of adapting existing sounds for other purposes. I starting seeing images in my mind's eye based on certain audio clips and snippets. I then decided it would be fun to build a film. I decided that I would, as I do, use whatever sources were available. The key was to find, not develop, but find the images, therefore builkd a “found image” kind of animation and using my extant software programs. I also thought it would be fun to play around with style and subject. I’m pretty much trying to create a piece that plays as a form of French Revolution Propaganda. Chances are this will not convey, which is fine, it is after all a starting point.

Allons mourir dans l'ouest
This is the intentionally pretentious title for my animated film short. It means, in French, essentially: Let’s Go West to Die. This means the West as in the USA as opposed to wagon trains and whiskey jugs and outlaws and cattle – or does it?

I Don’t Know What Any of This Means

Film Series
After many distractions and many careful considerations, I am going to meet with the other kfa folk(s) and spin the possibility of cutting the fourth installment a great deal and making it a somewhat less “far reaching” conspiracy peace and a more intimate study of our hero's journey. He is, after all, our “hero” and this is his story. James Fountain was getting a little lost amidst my explorations and then mounting ambitions, but a careful examination has revealed that a cut of this sort will be better all around. First, I can have closure on a project that was supposed to take three months, but has, due to all sorts of contributing factors, taken a bit longer. Also, I think it will benefit the original goal of the narrative to bring it back down to a more personal level. I am sure my actor portraying Mr. Fountain would agree.

Stage
I recently auditioned for a favorite company of mine and was lucky enough to be called back to read for several intriguing roles. I was hesitant to take on a new role, but with this production being produced in the Fall of this year I am confident that, if cast, I will be able to honor all my necessary commitments. The callbacks went quite well and I felt like I was able to demonstrate a variety of character traits and was able to take direction – what else can you hope for other than getting the role!

Play Writing
The Damage Done has been occupying my time a lot as of late. My fascination with the great “anti hero” has brought me back to this script. I brained stormed with an associate of mine and was quite inspired. I do have concerns that it is too much on the “incomplete” side and that to do it correctly I would have to expound more energy than I will be able to muster at this time. Other scripts remain in a holding pattern as I am spending more time with the prose and with other responsibilities.

Prose
My short-short stories are one final draft away from getting the “associate review”. This is the first phase before I consider stranger’s feedback and/or submitting them to any publication. This is an exciting stage as I am very curious what criticisms I will receive. In particular I am excited about Box Cars as I feel that it has the strongest voice and the easily the most compelling subject matter.

Other
I am settling nicely into my new apt. and have been blessed with what some would consider disturbing news. I am about to embark on a form of career enhancement that only fate could deliver.

Brilliance in the Unrefined

I’m not going to say that I was any good, but I am going to say that I was better than I thought at the time. I first began writing in a series of phases; play writing first, then poetry and then finally prose. I penned my first play in 1993, it is called Tones and it is essentially an adaption of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. About four years later after I read some very inspiring poetry from a friend of mine I thought I would explore that genre. Despite my best efforts I had never been a fan of poetry, at least in the classical sense, and well, honestly in the “beat” sense as well. I’m not sure if this is because, not unlike classical symphonic and jazz music, it takes a bit a trained ear for some to appreciate. I approached poetry from a novice’s standpoint and never claimed to be a poet, only a dabbler. Around 2000, about three years after my foray into poetry and during my relapse back into play writing, I decided to attempt to write short stories. I wrote a handful of short-short stories and short stories over the next few years. As I began to refocus on acting as a primary creative outlet and more recently the “day job” I put the plays, the poetry and the prose aside.

I was in the process of doing the fifth drafts of my two experimental short-short stories, I Watch the Morning and We Will Be Here Forever when I started reviewing my earlier stabs at prose. I opened a few documents when I stumbled across something I had been playing around with called Boxcars. I don’t know if it was the mood I was in, or a lack of oxygen to the brain, but I was literally astounded at how well it read. To be clearer, I was not sure I had written it at all. There were images, flows of dialog and the over all subject matter and even the voice its self did not seem like mine, and however, it all seemed very familiar to me. It was indeed mine, though. Needless to say I brought the document to the surface, so to speak, and am going to edit it and if it comes together as well as I anticipate it might actually be the strongest short-short story I have to date and might even warrant competition. Then again, I might be jumping the gun.

This brings me to an interesting revelation. It’s a twofold discovery: What we create in the moment, is often something worth holding onto. We might not see it clearly upon immediate examination; however, looking back it might have merit. It may even be quite brilliant! So make sure not to discard earlier projects, I believe early drafts can be valuable to some, however, the entire pursuit should be well preserved and revisited at a later date. Perhaps it is an influence on a current project or is simply worth reconstructing. I am not advocating 200+ spiral bound notebooks and a bogged down external hard drive, just the idea that sometimes we are too hard on ourselves or simply too close to something to see it clearly. Art is like life, you can’t claim to know everything about it, because that’s when you are wrong.

Work and Art and Art and Work and All That Entails

As a one-time full-time artist, I am now basically shocked at how easily my new found “day job” has become the goddess to whom all sacrifices of art, life and sometimes sanity are made. I made the decision for all of my artistic endeavors to become part of my world of “hobby”. To the offense of many actual artists that I interact with I am forced to view my pursuits in this manner. I admit this is only a psychological trick I play on myself. By simply naming it so, I feel that I can distinguish its worth and therefore focus much more readily and doggedly on the tasks that bring home the bacon.

I again find myself in a position where I want to be able to identify myself with a label. I believe it is a romantic, possibly nostalgic notion that believes that I need to name myself. Especially as I want to name myself something other than as an artist. This presents a potential reckoning for one of my strongest held believes. I’ve argued on line and in bars about the beauty of art, therefore the artist, being all inclusive. I’ve argued against better versed, better researched and better spoken individuals that art does not necessarily exist as a result of intent. The creator does not exclusively determine art. The recipient determines art as well. If I am to be consistent then I would have to say that I am an artist even when I create intermittently. Am I therefore and artist through intent? If that is the case then I would need the result of this intent? Is this the case? Can I be an artist without a result? Maya Angelou says we are all created as creators. If we believe, we must remember that we are all not necessarily artists or are we, without realizing it? Are we all artists? Not necessarily. It depends on the shaky agreement between the giver and the receiver. I believe the agreement to be so amalgomous that if an abandoned gas station sign appeals to someone as an abandoned sculpture, then for that person it is a sculpture. Then I must be an artist, even when I am brining home the bacon or even “as” I bring home the bacon.

This has to be true, but when it comes down to the nuts and bolts of it all, I only feel like a creative person when I am being creative. Even if I am not an artist, by the accepted definition of which I can accept, I can not accept a life that does not create. Creation is also a shaky surface to place one’s faith. There are many forms of creation, but the ones that appeal to me involve the creation of something that causes an involuntary cathartic response. Sure, it can be “intended” for some other purpose, but often design, artisan and craftsmanship cause this item of “use” to become more than its original intent. It has acquired an additional result of its intention. It has grown, dare I say acquired value. Unfortunately, I apply these criteria to myself, clearly a sentient being (I hope). I believe that above and beyond the daily grind that I call my “job” that my outcomes are greater than my intent. That my actions, my daily activities contribute to something more.

I continue to wrestle with the terms and how I apply them to myself. The reality of the situation lies in the fact that we will be defined by our actions, our inactions, ourselves and others, so why think about it. Do something.

Felicity Go Lightly

I have just finshed the first of the three stories featured in Flaubert's "The Tales" I'm not sure if I'm supposed to pity, trivialize, judge, or simply experience the journey of a certain Felicity in Flaubert's A Simple Heart. I realize that, not unlike, many many pieces of literature, I find myself saddened almost to the point of disgust by the unfortunate turn of events that happen to those humble characters that pop up, pluck your heart strings and then falter all in a nice tidy venue such as a short story or novella.

Oddly, at times I found Felicity to be equally as frustrating as I did Holly in Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's. Both are women who live a tragic existence. Felicity is a victim of class as much as Holly. Fortunately for Holly she can hide her inner self by using charm, charisma and sexual liberation. Poor Felicity is a simple girl, whose joys in life are approved and supplied by those around her. Sadly, they have little feeling for her. Her lot is to live from day to day and serve others with no regard for self. Being religious, she is able to do this with little desire for more. Considered Flaubert's answer to the critics that said he had no "heart" and to impress his friend George Sands, this story is one sad collection of poor judgment, bad timing, self-flagellation and all around class consciousness.

This is not to say that I did not enjoy it, I found it quite advanced for its time. Written in the mid 1870's it features an efficient use of words and phrasing and is just descriptive enough of those things that the reader truly needs to know. It also features a great mechanism by which a parrot becomes the surrogate partner that the heroine can turn to and find all comfort required. Her continual sense of loss pulls at you to the point, where I found myself just wishing she would shake herself loose of her conditioned state of suppliant behavior or just pass away. When death comes to her, it is over in a about a page in a half and I couldn't help but find myself truly relieved. Not as a reader, but out of sympathy to Felicity.

Perhaps the best device of all is the use of both flashback and foreshadowing while also providing an ironic, yet true sense of comedy to her final moment. As she approaches a proverbial "light" she sees a large parrot in the place of the usual St. Peter. I thought this was great, clever, funny and true form.

David Copperfield, A Night at the Theater, and Rejecting the Siren’s Call

David Copperfield
I am now at the halfway point of Dickens’ most personal and autobiographical novel. I have always been a huge Dickens fan and was particularly taken by this book when I first dove into it. Sadly, as I am at the 300 page mark, I am still quite invested, but find that “life” outside of his mid 19th century take on it, is making it hard for me to give it the attention it deserves. There are still some resounding stark prophetic moments that keep me very much interested as to what will happen next. The unfortunate thing is that I may be sitting on this novel for the remainder of the calendar year.

Screenplays for the Stage
I saw the opening night of a very intriguing original script this past Sunday. It was a relatively strong cast led by the protagonist who did an outstanding job in a difficult journey. His strength of craft carried him through the more difficult moments of the story, while his grounded, honest presence added a rich quality to the scripts stronger moments. The female lead was usually weak, considering that so many shows feature strong women and weak men. The 3rd character was involved in a bold creation of an antagonistic, yet liberating force. I felt that it was another case of a playwright writing for the screen. Perhaps not the entire script, but much of it was cut as a screenplay would be, save for the extended moments of dialogue.

What You Want When You Don’t Want It
I was offered a chance to understudy not one, but two plays at one of the most important theater houses in the DC Metro area and due to my recent difficulty at work (transitioning a new assistant while awaiting the arrival of a new supervisor as well as a new division VP) I opted out of this wonderful opportunity. I was proud to be offered a chance, but, again, I had to remind myself: I am not here for that. I know I did the right thing, but I hope that opportunities like this present themselves again in one for or the other