A warm snap. You gotta love it. It’s pushing midnight. I’ve my transom window open, wearing shorts and sandals. I was over at C4 Workspace earlier this evening–it’s nice to have access to a place I can use as an impromptu studio. I recreated the lighting and backdrop set-up of Monday’s shoot, but a bit in miniature. It was just me, two lamps, a black backdrop, a fan, a white shirt on a fake clothes line, and an electric fan. Not too exciting, but all I needed shot tonight was six minutes of a shirt billowing. It’s gonna be tossed into my current project.

Earlier in the evening I went with Deborah to the Alamo Exhibit at the downtown gallery of SAVA (San Antonio Visual Artists). About half of the works were by my friend Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez. He’s done quite a few paintings pertaining to the Alamo, as well as the other regional missions, mostly in an historical context. There were works of his both old and new.

Here’s a photo of Ramon with one the paintings from the show.

And here’s a photo I took of him with a mannequin back in December.

Oh, and here’s a piece he did that arrived in my email box as a digital Christmas card. I really like this piece.

The SAVA Gallery is a small place. But the place never got too crowded, because people came and went during the show. I saw a lot of familiar faces, and also got to meet some new people.

I’m glad Deborah called me up and dragged me out of the house. It was a beautiful day, but I mostly pissed it away reading and watching movies online.

Yesterday was a Luminaria Steering Committee meeting over at the Southwest School of Art and Craft. The big cheese over there, Paula Owens, has mentioned a parking-lot in the past, but I still don’t know where it is, so whenever I make an appearance at the Southwest School, I park at the downtown library. The parking garage is free for the first hour if you get your ticket validated in the library. Since I arrived early, I went into the library and checked out a book. I chose a Jules Verne omnibus. Now I know I bought a few Verne novels as a tyke from the Scholastic catalogue, but I can’t remember anything abut them. I’m fairly certain I read Mysterious Island and 20,000 Leagues, but I’ve also seen various movie adaptions. Anyway, when in Dallas, at my auction gig, I’ve had to research some first editions of Verne; and thus I’ve become quite interested in his publishing career, especially the relationship between him and his publisher Pierre-Jules Hetzel (if you ever get a chance to examine one of the original Hetzel illustrated editions of Verne, you’ll begin to understand how the popular readership ate this stuff up).

I’ve been reading From the Earth to the Moon, and am pleasantly surprised. There’s a kooky sense of humor I wasn’t expecting. And the science appears absolutely up to date.

The movie I watched today was Grey Gardens. I don’t know why I never heard of it. My sister, some months back, brought it up. She said I needed to see it. She was, of course, right. It’s incredible. Documentary film-making brothers Albert and David Maysles shot and produced it, with a release date of 1976. It’s an unflinching look at two women, mother and daughter, both named Edith. They live in a crumbling mansion in East Hampton. The house has fallen into squalor–their once substantial fortunes have been reduced to near poverty. These two aging upper class bohemians, reclusive and out of touch with the world, spend their days feeding an army of cats roaming freely through the mansion, as well as an extended family of raccoons living in the attic. Big Edie was a minor figure in the entertainment world, occasionally singing on stage in the nineteen teens. Little Edie attempted to work her way into a dance career in the thirties, but with no more success than her mother. The film is full of moments where these crazy cat women might slip into impromptu song or dance or poetry recitation. They are both fucking nuts, but there is something appealing about them. They have never lost their innocence. Check it out. It’s a solid documentary, and not near as squirmy and depressing as one would expect considering the subject matter.

Yikes! I started to type and was blindsided by a funky font I was using for another project. SF Digital Readout. In 72 point. The shock was compounded by the fact that tonight, once again, I’m using my new video projector to shoot the image of my monitor on my wall at 96 inches. At least I had stopped with that magenta font color or I might be flopping on the floor, blindly scrambling for my cell phone and 911.

I wimped out and didn’t make it to the MLK march over on the east-side on Monday. Fact is, I didn’t drag my carcass out of the house until well after noon.

Instead, I spent the morning sipping coffee and dicking around on the internet. I’ve been duly impressed by the clarity of picture I can got off my projector when watching Hulu and Netflix on my computer off my cable modem via wi-fi. I found myself wondering if the servers on free video hosting sites can handle such clean and lush transfer rates with all their user provided content. And so I cruised over to Vimeo–they’ve always been about quality of picture. Impressive! I actually got swallowed up watching a run of randomly selected pieces which I splashed on my wall. Here’s a cool interactive projected art piece from, I believe, New Zealand:

http://www.vimeo.com/8525186

There’s a brilliance, I think, in the simplicity of that piece. The concept of allowing members of the audience to be a central part of the performance is certainly nothing new, but it’s the execution of this piece which I find so liberating. As I watched this, I came up with an interesting idea for an interactive dance piece on a smaller scale which I think I could pull off with the help of a few friends.

The bottom line is that when you own a 3000 lumen video projector, everything seems to be a potential canvas. The other day I was trying to get to the grocery store, but as I was on the south-side, I had to deal with the trains. I was waiting for one to pass on S. Flores near Gallista Gallery. It then occurred to me that this was a fascinating moving canvas, with surface colors, textures, and shapes constantly changing. I’m now suddenly keen on creating a projection work near a train track. Gallista. La Tuna. Sunset Station. Just get me a dependable train schedule, and I’ll be there.

I don’t know why the folks behind the San Antonio Contemporary Arts Month changed the time from July to March, but they’re morons. I mean, what a wonderful time of the year to embrace contemporary art–the dead of summer. In the past there were so many extraordinary outdoor events at night. The summer. The fucking summer. Hell, yeah! You put these things on in March, and folks will be cold, and probably wet. I could say something similar about Luminaria, but no one’s listening to my opinion.

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Early Monday evening I was at C4 with Seme. I wanted some tight shots of her choreography on video for the projection next week at Jump-Start. My plan was to hang some black drapery from a couple of C stands to give a neutral backdrop. Todd saw me doing this, and came to my rescue with some equipment that proved more appropriate. For the lighting, I ran a bell light up on a C stand. It pointed down–a 200 watt bulb, frosted and gelled green. Deborah showed up with this badass 1K light we had used when shooting Danielle doing her fire dancing back in December. I made some vague suggestion that she place it at a right angle to Seme and run it up rather high. She did something like that, didn’t care for it, and dropped the lamp down to about four feet off the floor, and pulled it in a bit to soften the angle. Perfect! What I was wanting to do was to, as simply as possible, emulate the style of theatrical lighting. The fact is, I like working with one or two lights so as to generate loads of shadows. I think between me and Deborah we achieved a nice set-up. I took just a few still images. But I think this one kicks ass:

I hope Seme doesn’t mind. The video we’d been shooting was very close. Mostly images of her hands. I think she wasn’t prepared for shots of her face. Personally, I think she looks great. I was shooting the stills with my GH-1 with a Nikkor 50mm lens, probably open all the way. I’m a bit squeamish here because the image is slightly out of focus. This might have been a situation where I would have benefited from the automatic lens that came with the camera.

But I digress. Come on out and see Seme Jatib’s performance. There will be some video by yours truly. Wednesday Jan. 27. I believe it starts at 7pm. Get the info at the Jump-Start website. It only costs 5 bucks. Also, there will be works in progress by two other performers, Maggie Lasher and Laurie Dietrich.

Yep. That’s where you need to be next Wednesday. Jump-Start.

And don’t forget, this weekend is the first of a four-part site-specific performance cycle, collectively called Request Concert. The first offering is from the incredible S.T. Shimi (dancer, actor, writer, administrator, and from what I understand, a damn fine chef). I’m planning to book my ticket, maybe tomorrow. They’re limited, so order NOW–I hope I’m not too late.

I not sure what that red star over towards the east is. Betelgeuse? Maybe no star at all but the planet Mars. Probably I could make a fairly quick ID from one of my star guides or off the internet. But the fact is, that distant point of red light wasn’t so much on my mind as I was unloading my groceries tonight as was its chromatic opposite. Sirius, the dog star, burning bright in a chilly blue tone like a magnesium flare set off on a midnight glacier…on Pluto. I’m getting tired of this cold weather. I had been led to believe it’d be a fairly sunny and warm day. But, dammit, I don’t think it got over 65. And there was this ghastly haze hunkering down over the city all day long. After taking in my purchases from La Fiesta, I walked down the driveway and took my clothes off the line. I hung them up seven hours ago, but they’re still damp, and now cold and clammy. That was when I saw this warm-looking red star. But as I turned away, by gaze crossed Sirius, the antithesis of warmth. Fucking winter!

Earlier this evening I spent some time working with Seme on the dance piece she’s doing for the W-I-P the week after this. She’s got the choreography down solid, but because we want to add an additional level of projected video, there’s still a fair amount of work to do. I need to build a six minute prerecorded video/audio file and put it on a DVD. Much of the information Seme wants are words, in motion, coming up, doing their thing, transitioning into other words, all in accord with her dance movements. She’s suggested some video images as well, and I’ll have to come up with a fun range of short clips that will fit the theme of the piece. For the meeting tonight, I had set up my laptop, projector, and video camera. When I asked if maybe she could give me a bare bones run-through of the piece, she said no problem and did some stretching warm-ups as she told me about her weekend in Dallas with her husband. And then I hit play on the music she’d emailed me and I video-taped as she danced. It’s a cool piece; very much modern dance, but with some elements of hip-hop. I always get a charge out of watching competent people dance. Seeing a beautiful body in motion is something I can’t take my eyes away from. And, because I’m really not that much different than other people, I’m perplexed why there seems so little interest in dance as an art form.

Other than her serious chops when it comes to dancing and choreography, Seme Jatib brings this wonderful open-minded creative optimism. She’s full of great ideas, and when I mutter something about how this or that might be a bit over-ambitious, she just shrugs. Perhaps the idea could be modified…or perhaps the resources needed to make the original vision could actually be wrangled. And, really, if anyone could make these larger things happen, it’d be Seme. She possesses an abundance of charismatic pleasant persuasion. And it’s quite infectious.

Keep your eyes and ears open. Seme. I think she’s going to get some great things done. Let’s hope she calls San Antonio home for some time.

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I spent the morning online reading about Burkina Faso, a landlocked West African country. Back in December–whilst researching that library of African books at the auction house where I temp–I found myself fascinated by regions of the continent which I’d never before given thought. The area where Burkina Faso resides is one of them. Through some serendipitous internet searching I came across FESPACO, an incredible African film festival held every two years in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. It’s being held this year, in March. No way could I make it. I think I need to be there in 2012. This city, in this forgotten and impoverish African country, is a powerhouse of filmmaking. Yes, that’s right. Not only do they honor African films with screening them, but there are some serious and well-respected filmmakers in Burkina Faso. I was watching clips from some of those film via YouTube and Google video. Maybe one day the city of San Antonio (along with the government of Bexar county) will get the message–people come here for the unique culture. What could be a better way to exploit and explicate this culture than through movies?

But, I dunno. America’s seriously fucked. Once I get my passport I might just chuck it all and head off to sub-Saharan Africa. (It’s gotta be warmer there than here.) I hear they love making movies and watching movies, especially if those movies explore their own culture. That’s pretty cool, yeah?

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Here’s a picture I took right after I bought my new camera. I went back in the archive. It looks pretty cool.

I think I see Barbasol waiting in the wings.

We’re cycling out of the winter mode here in SATX for at least the next week. The sun came out Saturday and it got up to about 63 in the afternoon.

I was up and out pretty early. Early for me, that is. My friend Deborah was planning to have some folks from her Tao group meet at her studio. The little electric heater in her studio had recently crapped out, and I recalled that a neighbor had given me a Wal-Mart gift card for Christmas. I headed south down Roosevelt early in the morning to see what I could find. I made it to Wal-Mart by about 9. I hate the place on general principles, but today the customer service was particularly noticeable in it’s absence. After flagging down three people I finally learned that they were sold out of all their space heaters. None at all. Zip! I thought I’d head down to a region I dread even more than the Wal-Mart on SE Military. I’m talking about all those big box retailing monstrosities out near City Base. Would I have better luck at, say, Home Depot? Nope. Next stop, Conn’s. The unshaven wannabe hipsters working there fidgeted in their soul-crushing polyester outfits and told me, before I’d walked ten feet into the store, that heaters aren’t the sort of things they ever carried. As I thanked them and walked out, one of the more aggressive sales boys croaked out that “maybe you’d like a big screen TV?” Hardly. I then tried the big Target on the far side of the parking lot. I’d forgotten how much I hate the Target color scheme. But the employees are generally pleasant and seem to know what’s where. The chipper high school girl (a far cry from the hungover slugs at Conn’s) told me in an unfaltering and declarative manner that, no, they were all sold out. “Hey, Larry,” she called out to a fat guy pushing a trolly stacked high with boxes of Beer Nuts and a product called the Foot Jacuzzi. “We getting any more heaters?” Larry shook his head without even turning around. “Sorry, man,” she said. “It’s a seasonal thing.” I thanked her. I grabbed some Bustelo coffee and some flavored creamer. It looked like I was giving up on my quest. From a retail standpoint, it would seem that summer, in south Texas, has ended.

I took the scenic route back to my neighborhood, via S. Floras. This allowed me to whip into the drive-thru at Eddies Taco House for a couple of breakfast tacos.

I stopped at my home to pick up my camera. Then I headed over to C4 for my smaller tripod. It can be a pain, at times, having another space, because you find yourself wondering where the fuck you put this or that. Next, I drove to Blue Star. Upstairs I saw that Deborah was already working in her space with some of her Tao group.

I handed the coffee and cream off to Deborah, and took a peek into one of the adjacent stdio spaces. I was there to meet Russ. He was helping another artist on the second floor, Felipe Reyes, to document the art work of a colleague on display in his studio/gallery. Russ and Felipe knew each other because they both teach at Harlandale High School. It seems Russ has jumped over to the DSLR world of movie-making as well as myself. He has one of the new Canon’s. Compared to mine, it’s huge. I, of course, fell into a deep state of buyer’s remorse.

Why didn’t I get THAT camera…? Oh, well. The deed had been done. And I also had to remind myself that I had done a fair amount of work with that camera which I was quite proud of. Maybe a Canon will be my next camera. No rush. Just plunge ahead and do good work.

Later, back home, I opened the blinds to let the sun in and forced myself to clean up some. My place has become such an appalling mess that whenever I hear a friend working up towards inviting him or herself to come over to my place, I quickly mention a convenient restaurant, coffee shop, or the very handy C4 Workspace. I succeeded in doing a very good first pass-through on my kitchen and my living room.

There was a point where I was cleaning my sink and I looked out the window (one of the fun features of this place is that the window over my kitchen sink lets me peek out onto the drama that is my neighborhood). I saw Rick and Angela Martinez, the Slab Cinema couple, visiting my next door neighbor. They were on their bikes. Well, dammit, what am I complaining about? Even though the low ’60s is too cold for me, the sun was out, and here I see people I know buzzing about the neighborhood on bikes. I put on my sneakers and shorts, grabbed up my bike, threw it in my truck, and I drove to that little park over near the old old Mission Drive-In Theater. Chilly, I’ll admit, but I had a nice quick ten mile ride to to Mission Espada and back. Shit, it’s probably been over two months since my last bike ride. And it looks like it’ll be in the upper ’60s and lower ’70s this coming week. Finally, sweet respite!

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This new projector is damn slick. It’s 3000 lumens, and that’s bright. Slab Cinema uses a 2700 or 2800 lumen machine. And they can spread a clean and clear image onto the side of a two story building. I don’t know how big that screen was (I speak in the past tense, because it was destroyed in a big wind (though I should add, deep in this double parenthetical, they have a new, inflatable screen, and screenings will continue, when it warms up a bit)), but I remember the last film I watched there in HemisFair Park, and it was a HUGE screen, and the picture quality, rather impressive.

What I can say about my machine is that as a large screen TV, it’s no slouch. In fact when those dorks at Conn’s wanted to know if I might want to buy a large screen TV, I really wanted to spin around and explain the situation: “Look, squirt, I have a NEC 3000 Lumen LCD projector, my entire house is a large screen TV…if I so desire.” And, indeed, lately I’m been watching my “stories” off hulu.com projected onto the wall in my living room. This gives me a 96 inch screen (diagonal). The size is limited because I need to fit the projected image onto the clean space between two doorways. The manual rates this projector to 300 inches, I guess that means a diagonal measurement.

At the moment I’m in my living room at my standing “desk.” I have my laptop connected to the projector off the external monitor port. I have this old Gateway monitor I’ve hooked up to the projector’s output feed. I’ve set my computer to recognize a dual monitor array. Right now I have a browser open (tuned to Pandora, with the Rye Coalition as the operative meme). On top of that is iPhoto, running through a slide show of recent imported images. This is what’s playing on my wall. The laptop’s monitor is set to this word processing program (which is, um, the lowly Text Edit, which I use for all my blogs). I’d probably slide the word processing window so it’d be projected, but I don’t touch type. I spend quite a bit of time looking at my fingers when I type. So, if I were using the wall to see my work, I’d be looking down, looking down, looking WAY UP, looking down, looking down, looking WAY UP…. This isn’t a good situation.

This photo is the same set up, but while I was experimenting with the VJ software program, GrandVJ. I only had three of the eight channels going, and only one, as I recall was a video clip. I’m still using the demo version. I’ll probably buy it tomorrow. The other program I was playing with–also in demo mode–is really quite a bit more fun. But it’s currently beyond my abilities. I think this one works best for my current needs. One of the cool things about GrandVJ is how it can be expanded upon by adding a midi keyboard and/or a usb mixer. These are two devices that I’m quite confident that if I had, I could operate the system so much faster. But, the good thing is that there’s quit a bit that can be done just with a mouse and a computer keyboard.

In the photo above, the two lower monitors are in the immediate foreground. Inches away. The one at the top is the projected one, about 13 feet away.

Tonight I was playing around with my camera at C4 Workspace. It had been raining off and on all day and the streets were wet. I wanted some shots of the traffic lights and headlights glancing off the wet and reflective intersection of Durango and S. St. Mary. A drizzle was coming down and I was hanging in close to the building enjoying what little protection an overhang from the roof provided. With no warning there was a blast of light. I blinked and looked up and around just as the explosion of thunder cracked like a length of lumber splitting. I watched in awe and bemusement as a line of sparks arced down from the transmitter tower of Univision, just across Durango from me. This mini fireworks display was fleeting and short-lived, evaporating after maybe a second. I do believe the television antenna a mere block to the north got struck by a bolt of lightening. Nature, in all her tempestuous displays, can surely amaze and entertain; you’d just better hope you didn’t book a front row seat by accident. Because–and here, a word to the wise–she can fuck you up.

Here are a couple of photos I was working on:

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These winter days of cold and wet bullshit are wearing on my nerves. I want sunshine. I want to go on bike rides along the Mission Trail. I want fine and warm respite!

Because of this nasty weather, I actually found myself hanging out fairly late tonight at C4. I thought I’d just wait for the rain to slack off some. After an hour of sitting on the sofa catching up on my RSS feeds and listening to the incessant gurgle of hundreds of gallons of that shit running down the rain spout off the roof, I had to bundle up and make a dash for my truck. And so now I’m home listening to my neighbor’s music through the wall. I have no idea what he listens to, but for some reason the throb of bass and drum makes me think it’s nothing by Ted Nugent’s “Cat Scratch Fever” on a constant rotation. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a serious fan of fast and loud music (I’d not give up my Scratch Acid albums without a fight); but, correct me if I’m wrong, all music heard from someone else’s domicile seriously sucks.

Oh, wait. I just turned down the Jesus Lizard blasting off my stereo long enough to realize the neighbor’s turned off his music. Good for him.

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Welcome to another typical San Antonio day for Erik Bosse, the unemployed art busybody.

I began the day a bit late. Near noon I made my way to my desk at C4 Workspace with coffee and a late breakfast of a sandwich from the Filling Station next door (they make great pizzas and phenomenal sandwiches, and they’re great people–so, folks, feed there!). I looked over some old emails I’d put off. One was from a woman in Portland who’s on FaceBook with me. She’s a cyclist and has somehow befriended the Rev. Phil Sano, this guy who has curated a traveling film event called “the Pornography of the Bicycle.” It’s got my attention. Two things I love. Bikes and porn. What a magical melange!

It seems this bike porn guy (I’ve gotten in the habit of referring to him thusly) wants to move his traveling show into the Texas market. About fucking time! So, this FaceBook friend of mine, in the interest of spreading bicycling goodness, has connected me with Phil Sano. I sent off some possible allies in San Antonio who might help bring this unusual and curious (and, perhaps, educational) experience to San Antonio.

If this show comes to town, you’d better believe I’ll be there!

Later in the day Seme Jatib dropped by C4. We discussed some collaborative projects. It looks like I might be providing a single channel projection piece that she can dance along with at the January W-I-P. Jump-Start, Wed., Jan. 27th. Oh, and don’t come just for Seme. There will also be works in progress presented from Maggie Lasher (contemporary dance), and Laurie Dietrich (a performance art piece). Like all of the W-I-P performances, it’ll be outstanding, This monthly fruitful collaboration between Jump-Start and the San Antonio Dance Umbrella is put on by ST Shimi and Amber Ortega-Perez–they are heavy-hitters in the performance and dance scene, and I’m honored that not only do they both return my phone calls, but I have worked with both of them on creative projects. These girls kick ass–not just as performers, but also as curators. W-I-P is, hands down, the most interesting and yet over-looked venue for super-cool performance work in town. What are you waiting for? It’s only five bucks.

But I digress.

The video work I hope to provide for Seme will truly work as a work in progress. Seme will consider the feedback provided by the audience at this upcoming W-I-P and the both of us will work to further the piece for Luminaria, and other possible venues. Following the W-I-P performance, we’d like to work on a live collaboration: instead of a prerecorded single-channel video projection to accompany Seme’s unfolding choreography, the video component would be real-time manipulation of the projected images, accompanied, most likely, by a manipulated projection of a live camera feed.

I all sounds very interesting. Oh yes, and loads of fun.

The next stop was a meeting over at URBAN-15. George Cisneros is co-chair, this year, of Luminaria. I’d wanted to talk with him about the film/media component of Luminaria (me and Adam Rocha are co-chairing this committee). We need to firm up the A/V needs to see if the budget can handle what the film/media artists are wanting. Unexpectedly, today, I was lucky enough to find myself in a meeting concerning a large scale multi-media project. I was included because this proposed project needs video projection and might well impact the works I will be facilitating.

The last stop on my typical art and cultural day was meeting with Angela and Rick Martinez of Slab Cinema. They joined me at C4 before the big rains began. Angela and Rick have been at the forefront of outdoor cinema in San Antonio for years. They were involved in Luminaria all along–2008 and 2009. They provide the outdoor screenings of films at HemisFair and at Main Plaza. Having a Luminaria without this couple would be plain stupid.

That was my San Antonio day, hanging out with cool folks in the arts. It’s not a bad life. I might not be making any money, but lately I have been graced with a well-paying sporadic job. This lets me do a lot of freebies. I’m thinking now that I need to be a lot more cautious with the freebies I give. As I said to Seme today, I want to work with people who are smart and creative and dependable. I’ll add to this trifecta, those who have a sense of humor. All of the people I’ve gushed about in this blog fit these criteria.

Anyway, we’ll just have to see if I make a clean and smart break from projects that don’t benefit from me, and put my energy in those which do.

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To end on a film-related note, I don’t know how this ultra-groovy coffee mug clearly created by the San Antonio Film Commission made it’s way to my home away from home–C4 Workspace–but it looks great. I had to take a picture.

Let’s all share the love! The San Antonio Film Commission is tops! And who don’t love that logo?

A former wife of a friend of mine was visiting my place a couple of years back, and surprised me in that only did she see nothing unusual to find a gynecological exam table in my living room, but hopped right up, longing (there being not enough chairs for everyone) and continued with a conversation she’d been having up the walk, onto the porch, and right inside. Later it was revealed to me that she had been struck by the fact that everything in my place was film-related: light stands, tripods, mix boards, cameras, and props (of which the examination table was). My film nerd credentials were further driven home tonight. I’d just come back from the grocery store. As is my custom, I place all the bags in the bed of my pick-up, and hope they don’t roll around too much. Tonight, I was dismayed to see that a bag holding two big cans of Foster’s were in the dead center of the truck bed. Just out of reach. It was like that dog who just can’t reach that flea feasting away in the small of his back–he twists and snaps and wriggles and scratches to no avail. Sure, I could have climbed up into the bed, but, without giving it a second thought, I walked inside, grabbed up my telescoping boom pole and used that to snag Australia’s greatest contribution to the global good somewhere betwixt Jim Thirlwell and the Atomic Absorption Spectrophotometer (RIP, Sir Alan Walsh).

Speaking of video nerdery, last week I used my sister’s Christmas money to buy the only I thing I remembering asking Santa. She wisely decided to give me cash so I could get the item. It’s a lens adapter so I can put my old Nikon lenses onto my Panasonic Lumix GH1 (a fantastic and moderately priced examples of these new DSLR hybrid cameras–hybrid, because they do an excellent job capturing video). The GH1, strictly speaking, isn’t a true digital single lens reflex camera. It’s uses a micro 4/3 system. This allows the camera to be smaller and lighter than a regular DSLR. It doesn’t have a mirror. And so, like a video camera, you’re seeing an electronic image from the camera’s CCD chip. This allows for a placement of the CCD closer to the front of the camera. Because of this placement, you can’t just pit on any old DSLR or old SLR lens. It needs a device that acts not only as a mount adapter, but also as a spacer so that the newly introduced lens’ optics can properly focus.

I barely understand hat I just wrote. There’s no way I wanted to ask my sister to find the best one of, you know, those things, and go on my merry way, secure in my notion that my holiday gift request would find its way to me.

These sorts of devices are all over the place. I found half a dozen companies (most in Hong Kong) making something that would work for me. I tried B&H, but the only vendors they were working with were the top dollar guys. I turned to Amazon and found a variety of sensibly priced couplers. I decided on one carried by some outfit whose Amazon handle is Rainbowimaging.

I ordered it Thursday, I believe. And it came today, a Wednesday. They ship USPS, first class. They’re not in Hong Kong–the return address was Brooklyn. This seems a bit slow. Might be I could blame the post office. I won’t give them a hard time. The thing works perfectly. It came wrapped well. And they threw in a free retractable lens dust brush!

Here’s the thing that was driving me crazy. I put the adapter onto my camera, and, with some difficulty, got my Nikon 50mm lens attached (the trick is to be firm in twisting the lens on. But then, fuck, I got this warning: “please check that the lens is attached correctly.” Well, shit, that didn’t sound good at all. The manuel was no help (imagine that). I wish I could remember what website helped me out, but I forgot. So, let me add to the hive mind. Here’s how you fix it. Get into the main menu. Click down to “My” (aka “My Menu”). At the bottom you’ll see an option: “shoot w/o lens.” Your choices are “off” and “on.” Most likely you Lumix was set at the default “on” position. Change it to off. Problems solved. Should be the first thing in any article about swapping out lenses on this camera. The problem is that when you add these old lenses they lack all of the electronic connects that modern automatic lenses have, thus the camera is absolutely positive you’re a moron and are operating it without a lens at all. So you have to tell it that this is okay.

This marriage between SLR 35mm lens and this funky micro 4/3 format creates an optical anomaly I was glad I had already learned about, otherwise I’d been pissed. Because the lens needs to be pulled away a bit from the CCD chip, any lens added with have it’s magnification drastically increased. Basically doubled. So, my old Nikon 50mm lens now performs like a short telephoto 100mm. The upside? It’s fucking fast. I can open it up three stops–it’s an f 1.8. And, of course, this means I can now shoot under much lower light conditions, but it also gives me an insanely shallow depth of field–I can now do a sweet rack-focus on a close-up of a face from eye to nose…if needed.

What a great new toy! That’s Paula, for the Christmas present!

But, in an attempt to balance the wheel of karma, as I was frolicking about the neighborhood shooting hither and yon with my camera and a “new” lens (and braving the nasty weather), my trusty Panasonic Lumix GH1 let me down. One of the strap anchors came off. Thankfully this didn’t happen while I had it around my neck. Actually, I don’t know when it happened. I just picked it up, and, fuck! I like the security of having a strap on my camera, dammit. But I don’t want to ship it off–I’ll now see it for weeks, or longer. I remember when Carlos sent off a camera. I’ll try some place locally. Screw the warrantee.

Here are two quick snaps of a damn shallow DOF with my GH1 now augmented with a badass old-school Nikon manual F-mount lens. One fast lens, I’d say.

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Ever since I met with Seme Jatib last week I’ve been thinking about live video performances. It’s an intriguing way to present a time-based visual work. But in the past, all my research to find an interesting piece of software came up short. There is such of mountain of VJ and associated presentation software out there that I’ve given up in my past cursory searches. But the other week I came across two that I find intriguing: GrandVJ by ArKaos; and Avenue by Resolume. Resolume handles audio and video clips perfectly. I can do everything I want such a program to do. The problem is that the interface is stodgy and counter-intuitive. It’s the glitzier of the two, but I’m leaning towards GrandVJ. It seems like a water buffalo when compared to Resolume, but my hand-eye coordination has never been stellar, and I’m confidant GrandVJ is the program I could use with the greater speed and facility.

Last night I was hanging out by myself at C4 Workspace. I pulled down the movie screen and hooked Todd and Debbie’s projector to my laptop. I placed my DVX on a tripod and plugged it into my laptop via it’s firewire cable. Pretty cool. GrandVJ recognized the camcorder as an incoming source. It also alerted me to my laptop’s onboard camera–another incoming video source. GrandVJ lets you work with as many as eight video channels: you can break them into grids, layer them as transparencies, assign them to signal A or signal B (which helps to control the images as they may be manipulated via cross fades or layering). You can preload over 250 onto the interface. It had no problem handling several video codecs, formats, and could give a rats ass about SD or HD. You can create animation, text, and I’ve seen the cool site of a guy who provides a tutorial on making flash-driven files (using the software) that respond to an audio in-put.

Also, last night, I realized I’m tired of begging people to borrow video projectors. Let me do a quick inventory…. Um, I’ve groveled and “aw-shucks” my way into the good graces of nine individuals or groups for use of video projectors. And I’m probably missing a few. Time to get my own. I checked out B&H for their used and refurbished equipment. And so today I took the plunge and ordered an NEC brand 3000 lumens LCD projector.

I try and procure a new toy/tool with every stint at the Dallas auction house where I’ve ben so lucky to work. This time around it’s something that all of us who work making films constantly need, yet almost never purchase–the fuckers are expensive!

The more I find myself working with dancers, the more I find myself becoming beguiled with the idea of filmmaking not just as a static creation (with the content frozen at the ass-end of the post-production period), but an open ended, potentially evolving form of performing art.

Well, we’ll see how this plays out….

Yeah, I know. I’m forever harping about the cold. But, really! God damn! My post midnight walk home on Saturday from Jump-Start (a mere five blocks) was crazy. My iPhone clocked it at 25 degrees, but it felt a lot more sever. Probably I should have worn a hat.

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I arrived back in town Tuesday, after midnight. I managed to work about five weeks in Dallas. And even though I drove back o San Antonio three weekends (when I could have put in some hours in Dallas), I made out quite well. The folks at the auction house are wonderful, and I hope they continue to enjoy working with me. I think I should be able to slide for three months, maybe more. Hopefully, by that time, a new auction will be opening up for me to work.

It’s nice to be back home. There are some things missing in my life here in San Antonio, but it’s one of the few places I’ve ever lived where I’ve felt I belong–where I feel connected. Probably just here, and in Redford, Texas (that’s at the southern-most asswardest point of Presidio County). Here in San Antonio I’m a legitimate part of the art and cultural community. Perhaps a position not terribly well-earned, but such can well be said of many of the higher profile folks in the upper echelon of the art scene here. I’ll take what scraps I can.

Because of this brutal cold-snap, I spent Wednesday and Thursday bundled up, eating take-away tacos and catching up on Hulu.com. By Friday I clawed my way back into the world, you know, to reconnect with folks. I dropped by URBAN-15. The gang were fighting to keep warm in that huge and drafty old church. Four rooms in the newer building were tolerable. As was the basement of the older building…sort of. George gave me a belated Christmas gift, and then proceeded to bring me up to speed on the chisme of the local art scene. Some tasty stuff, it seems, had gone down in the last few weeks.

My next stop was Jump-Start theater. I had to drop off a DVD. Actually, the previous two days weren’t completely filled with tacos and Hulu. I was also making a quick cut of a video. The artistic director of Jump-Start had emailed me asking if I had a short video piece to contribute to their upcoming annual performance party. I’m not sure when she sent the email, but I know I read it on Wednesday. I replied. Sure. A five minute piece? No sweat. I decided to edit some of the video I had shot with Deborah and her photographer friends during one of my December weekends away from Dallas. There was this lovely young woman whose name I can’t recall. Deborah had worked with her earlier as a model, and the images of that shoot were incredible–Deborah’s very talented. Anyway, Deborah learned that the girl was a fire-dancer. A date was set for a photo shoot of her doing her moves with fire…and I was invited. Who could say no to that? I was shooting with my DVX, and much of the footage was outstanding. I was quite pleased with the lighting. Anyway, I quickly slapped together a six minute video (more on it later). By early Friday afternoon I had a couple of DVDs to drop off at Jump-Start (DVDs are the devil’s media, and are far from dependable, so I try and provided at least one extra back-up copy). When I walked up to the office loft at Jump-Start I was pleased to discover that it was totally toasty. I tried to draw out my chit-chat with ST Shimi because I sure as shit didn’t want to throw myself out into the cold again; but, well, I had to eventually.

The next stop was a meeting with Seme Jatib. She’s a dancer/choreographer from Monterey, Mexico. She’s been in town maybe six months or so. Amber gave her my contact info when Seme said she enjoyed collaborating with filmmakers. When I looked at Seme’s work online (two websites: http://www.semejatib.com/ and http://www.danzadigital.com/ ), one thing quickly became clear to me: this very professional and talented woman has enjoyed working in the arts in that country to the south which we here in the US so often marginalize or even vilify as backwards. All it takes is a short visit to Mexico to learn that the Mexican’s have high respect and regard for the arts. I was hoping she’d not already have been disillusioned with our paltry underfunded art scene here in America, in general, and San Antonio, in particular. We met at a Starbucks in the neighborhood where she and her husband live. She’s amazingly charming, smart, bilingually articulate, and wise beyond her years (though I suspect she’s a bit older than she looks). She’s something of a technophile. One of her websites (see above) is this incredible interactive experience, where the user gets to play, to a limited degree, choreographer. I’m not sure if my humble and half-assed production work could benefit what she’s wanting to do. I would love to be part of what she’s involved with, because it all looks brilliant. Seme Jatib’s one of those artists from whom we’d all benefit if only someone would throw a shitload of money and resources her way. Remember her name. I have a feeling that whatever she’s involved with, it will be damn rewarding. And, here’s the kicker: she’s participating at the Jump-Start’s W-I-P series later this month, Wednesday, Jan. 27th. Come check it out. I’ll be there.

After two hours with Seme (just a cafecito), I drove to Blue Star to look in on Deborah. Her studio was fucking freezing. Just like my house. Sure she had a little electric heater, and yes, we sipped hot tea, cupped in our hands, but, man, this winter business isn’t for pussies like me. We hung around for an hour or so. Some guy was going to drop by and buy one of her Tara photographs. The sad fact is, her teaching gig had been fucked over–one of her classes at the Alamo Community College District didn’t make. A significant cut in income of which she had no control. This photo sale was important. After the gentleman (with very good artistic taste, I might ad) wrote his check, gathered up the work (a hand-tinted photograph on canvas), and left, we shut down the lights, heater, and computer and headed out to get dinner. At the bottom of the outdoor staircase at Blue Star, Deborah saw a couple of guys hanging out. “It’s Avi,” she said with a grin. “He’s got a show in a gallery on the first floor. You want to see? I really like it.” Of course I wanted to see it. And when we walked up to Avi and his friend, he let us know that, yes, he’s like us to see his show as well. This was the second Friday of the month. And because the January First Friday (first friday is the meat and potatoes of art shows in the Blue Star art complex) was screwed over by New Years, it was suggested that artists show their work on Friday, January 8th. But, fuck, it was in the twenties. No one wants to be cold. Not in this town. So we were the only one’s in the gallery where his work was displayed. I loved it. The guy’s young, playful, full of ideas, and possibly a bit full of shit. But I loved his giant Lone Star Beer can with giant cigarette butts. His silk screens were also damn cool. One of the Mexicano icons he was playing with was the oh so common boxes of vermicelli, aka, fideo. His name’s James Avalos, and his business card gives his name, in shorthand, as Avi.

And after I’d taken a couple of photos and we’d bid our farewell, me and Deborah soon found ourselves at Tito’s. I, of course, ordered their renowned cheese enchiladas. But Deborah, still with those images in her head–she ordered a bowl of fideo, which I had never before noticed on Tito’s menu. I had a taste, and, yes, the perfect sopa for a cold and miserable winter night.

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Saturday I started the morning reintroducing myself to my desk at C4. Todd and Debbie were at the space, over-seeing an event. The judging for the ADDYs was going on there. This is for the local advertising and marketing scene. The ADDYs award ceremony is a big deal, or so I hear.

I played around some with a book description that needed some punching up–a request from the auction house. When I got bored with that, I called up Deborah and left a message. She was thinking of doing a video with dancers wearing lights. I’d called Catherine Cisneros to asked where URBAN-15 bought their LED lights. She’d given me two local sources. I let Deborah know I was interested in hunting down some lights, if these places were open on a Saturday.

We connected around noon. The first place was a failure. It’s a local party store on S. Flores. I’ve been there before for other things they didn’t have. But I can’t shit on them. They have loads of cool stuff. The second place we tried was Tex-Cap Toy Warehouse down on the far south-side. We took S. Flores way south, jut before it joined Roosevelt near Stinson Field. It’s in a light-industrial warehouse, sharing a space with a punk rock record shop. Them is high credentials in my book! And, yep, they had the goods. Not only did they respond when I said that Cat Cisneros from URBAN-15 had suggested the place, but when I noticed that a pair of LED novelty sunglasses they sold had been sported by local wrestler/actor Gabe the Babe, the guy running the place just smiled–“Gabe? Oh, yeah, he’s in here all the time.” On the south-side, and this seems legit, mention Gabe the Babe–he’s name is sure to open doors.

After buying a shitload of very cheap LED toys we drove to a Mexican cafe on S. Flores I pass every time I drive to my grocery store, the La Fiesta on S. Flores. If you’re motoring down S. Flores, near Theo Street, pull into Cafe Taurino. The people there are warm and friendly. The food rocks. And, if I understood the fast Spanish of the owner, Sunday is the day for pozole, If that’s the case, I need to visit on Sunday. Since my visit to San Miguel, I’ve been jonesing for a good pozole venue.

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Saturday night I walked to Jump-Start. I’ve made their annual performance party every year since….well, I can’t recall that first year. I’m gonna guess. I’ve been to five.

It’s a great opportunity to gain a sense of belonging to a community. And–this is important to me–it’s the first time I’ve been invited to participate.

Fuck, I’ve got a program in my hand. My name’s on it. This is so fucking cool! Perhaps the coolest venue in which I’ve yet to screen.

So, I walked to Jump-Start. Paid my five dollar donation. Took a seat. I’d hoped that Deborah would be there–not only do I enjoy her company, but she was there when I shot the footage for my little film, a creation that would never have happened were it not for her. She’d mentioned an obligation that she didn’t think she could escape from. I don’t hold people to come and see my shit. They almost never do, and, to tell the truth, it ain’t always that good. But, as I was sitting on an aisle seat, bemused to see my name in the program, and basically waiting for the show to begin, I’d almost given up. But then I saw her. Across the aisle, three rows down. She was sitting next to her artsy cousin and her friends.

The title my film showed under is “Ribbon and Fire.” It shows a girl dancing with red ribbons, and, later, fire. The piece runs just shy of six minutes. Back when we shot the piece I was trying to find the best place to set up a single light. I was surrounded by a bunch a fucking still photographers–a couple of them were feeding me their opinions. I wanted something extreme so that I’d be shooting directly into the light. But the other folks weren’t quite getting it. However, the compromise worked fairly well. All I did was change my camera placement. For the most part I put the central light source hitting the subject from behind, yet on the same side of the central axis of the camera. The piece I put together is damn rough. I was squirming as it screened. The only good thing I can say is that the disk played, and it never froze up. What I gleaned from watching was that this six-ish minute two-part film was probably two to three minutes too long. It dragged. And then there’s the music. Deborah liked he original version I’d cobbled together from loops, basic keyboard work, and a fair amount of embellishment with sound effects. I wasn’t a fan. But I didn’t have the time to re-score this little clip. I made some minor changes. The organic sound effects (birds, monkeys, wolves) were not strictly banished, but my re-edit took the volume down so low that those effects can’t be recognized.

The piece is not horrible, but I should have done a tighter and smarter job with the edit.

I guess the work has to stand. The best thing that happened tonight: Pocha was in the house (with Payan), and I know I heard Pocha shout out “Bosse!” when my little film began. She’s so sweet!

Anyway, it was a great evening. However, I should have done better work.

There were some standouts, of course. Sam Lerma screened his Trash Day film. The Peace Posse (poetry and performance art) were back after a two year hiatus. Leonard Cruz, who isn’t getting any younger or skinnier, did one of his amazing dances, so fluid and organic that had him moving as free from gravity as more expects from a teenage bulimic ballerina on a double espresso. URBAN-15 rocked the house and pulled about a third of the audience onto the stage to dance with them. Melissa Marlow did a drop-dead brilliant selection from the Vagina Monologues. And I don’t know who the fuck Plutina & Her Plutonian are, but the costumes and the singing–fuck yeah! Shimi, as Shimarella, did some hoop dancing. The hoop was lit with LEDs, and she was wearing a psychedelic robot-esque costume. She’s a beautiful woman with an incredibly toned body. Her dancing is flawless. But the most striking thing about any of her performances is her stage presence. Fucking charisma to burn! The Guadalupe Dance company did a solid set of folkloric dance. Doyle Avant did a wonderful little original monologue that reminded me of JG Ballard’s “I Want to Fuck Ronald Reagan,” where he’s admitting to finding a strange and compelling sexual energy emanating from Rush Limbaugh. Doyle is, hands down, the best writer around, and a hell of a powerful performer. Azul–singer, songwriter, guitarist. She’s our Lila Downs. Phenomenal! There was also some Methane Sisters stuff going on. I adore Monessa and Annele no matter what they’re doing. But their Methane Sisters personae is just awesome. They’re gonna be putting on a new Methane Sisters show this year, expect the local media to slobber all over them…as they should. Also, the grand finale was a bit disappointing. It looked like the Jump-Start company was going to do their fire-eating schtick, just like years before. Yep, this they did, but I was charmed when Steve Bailey, Jump-Start founder, came out totally naked. I must say, speaking as a confirmed heterosexual, god damn, but that middle-aged man looks pretty fucking good. All in all, I think my favorite part of the evening was the skit done by Marisela Barrera and Anna de Luna. They are, of course, very accomplished on their own, but together, when they do these little pieces at the Jump-Start parties, they are just so perfect. Individually, they are both very smart performers with pose and intelligence and beauty. But together, there’s this enormous charismatic chemistry. They need to build some major show around this chemistry. Saturday they did a performance where Mari (as in the past) played a south Texas vato Lothario, As she was vamping and playing into all those machismo stereotypes I found myself getting a bit nervous. Mari’s wardrobe, makeup, and glued on beard made her look unmistakably like local chicano artist LA David. (I’ve said it before, but if you called up Central Casting and asked for a Chicano Artist, you’d god damn well better get an exact replica of LA David. I love his art. But I also love his look and attitude.) Maybe, I thought, the resemblance is accidental. However, I was vindicated. Near the end of the piece, LA David, himself, walked out on stage. Smiling, without a word spoken, he gently stole the pretty girl (played by Anna) from his pretender (played by Mari). It was sweet, funny, and 100% Puro San Antonio.

I am honored beyond words that Shimi allowed me to be part of this 2010 Jump-Start Performance Party. A landmark, really, as it was their 25th anniversary. I have been silly in love with so many of the folks who work and perform at this extraordinary place. To see my name associated with them is the best gift I could ever hope to receive for this new year.

The whole of the night at Jump-Start can be seen on video. Michael Verdi video-taped the evening for internet streaming. He also parked the footage online. Check it out: http://jump-start.org/2010/01/10/performance-party-xxv-archive/

My first day home stated off slow. I woke up at about eleven-thirty this morning (don’t raise that eyebrow!–I didn’t get to sleep until five in the am). My alarm clock was a couple of enterprising jackasses who wanted to know if I needed any “landscaping?” I should have requested a koi pond and a double yew hedge row, ’cause the kids like places to hide.

My chief accomplishments were to deliver my rent check to the landlady, hit the drive-in at Eddie’s Taco House for some proper San Anto sustenance, and make a pit stop at La Fiesta for groceries (hell, I didn’t even have coffee this morning).

But my lazy uselessness took a slow change toward productivity by early evening. It’s about to hit midnight, and I’ve been working on a video edit for the last five hours. I’d received an email from one of the mojo domos at the Jump-Start performance space. I was asked to submit a five minute video art piece. My first thought was to make a quick preliminary edit of the dance piece I did with Shimi, but then I thought that because Shimi’s an integral part of the Jump-Start family, she’s no doubt doing a performance or two herself. And then I remembered the footage I took the other week of a model Deborah had befriended. This girl’s a fire dancer. And so, tonight, I’ve been editing that footage. I need to get the finished product to Jump-Start by Friday afternoon. What I have so far is rough,,,and the “music” is something I threw together really really fast with Garageband. I’ll go ahead and post this early edit. I’m waiting on Final Cut to write this six minute short piece to a smaller file appropriate for internet streaming.

I need to get with Deborah so I can credit the dancer–I never got her name.

I hope no one I know needs to be reminded of the annual Jump-Start Performance Party. If you only go to a theater once during 2010, it’d better be the Jump-Start Performance Space this Saturday. Some of the most outrageously talented people call Jump-Start home: Steve Bailey, Monessa Esquivel, Annele Spector, ST Shimi, Daniel Jackson, Billy Muñoz, and Dino Fox; and a whole shitload of brilliant locals are closely associated with this crucial theater company, such as Amber Ortega-Perez, URBAN-15, Doyle Avant, Max Parilla, Ana de Luna, Michael Verdi, the fine folks with the Renaissance Guild, and on and on. If you live in the greater San Antonio region and you don’t make it to the Jump-Start Performance Company for this Saturday’s 25th anniversary performance party, well don’t be surprised if you no longer hear from me–you see, sir or madame, you will have played your hand as a high rube, a Philistine, a low-brow clown, in fact, little more than a wriggly little silver fish in my book: you will be purged from all my databases.

Here’s a YouTube link to that early edit of the video project I was working on today:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6gwaP9NyDM

Whew, I’m back home after working five weeks or so in Dallas. It’s two am and I’m settling in with a Shiner Bock and the Mountain Goats on the Hi-Fi. I’m constantly thankful of my semi-nosy neighbors who seem to have schedules as unpredictable as myself–we all do our best to look after one another on this block. So, even though I often feel a bit of paranoid dread as I pull into my drive after being away for a week or more, I really shouldn’t fret. Anyone skulking about would be noticed fairly quickly. It’s nice to know that six of my neighbors have my phone number, email, or are on FaceBook with me. Probably my only legitimate fear is that I might return to find my electricity or internet disconnected for lack of payment, or, perhaps, a family of possums nesting in my tub. But, so far, so good.

Actually, for this last stint in Dallas working for the auction house, I found myself returning to San Antonio for three of the five weekends. A bit of a bite in the pocketbook as I can usually work some hours Saturdays and Sundays. But I’d committed myself to several events: the San Antonio 48 Hour Film Experience, a Luminaria Film Committee meeting, a play at the AtticRep, and the Holiday Laser Show at URBAN-15. Um, oh, yeah, I also shot footage for three experimental dance videos on those weekends. Sure, I lost some serious coin (as my former neighbor Alejandro would say), but, damn, I had a blast. Also, the work at the auction house is quite rewarding in it’s own right. One of the collections consigned was an exhaustive accumulation of books on Africa, ranging from the mid 1500s up to the early twentieth century. About half were in French. It’s a cool job. I get to learn quite a bit. My French comprehension climbed from being able to catch the gist of a wine list to being able to read a French newspaper with the savvy of a seven year-old Parisian. Also, I’ve gleaned significant knowledge of European colonial expansion into the Dark Continent. And then there was that big collection of British histories from the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. Nothing much of tremendous value, but I was able to use the STC and the ESTC (Short Title Catalogue and English Short Title Catalogue)–these are bibliographies of books in the English language published before 1640 and 1800, respectively. Here’s the deal–the ESTC is now free and online! Wow! When did this happen? (This pretty much means that the STC is also free and online, as all the STC citations have been absorbed within the ESTC). Check it out, biblio-nerds:

http://estc.bl.uk/F/?func=file&file_name=login-bl-list

One of the high-dollar items coming up in this auction is a beautiful copy of Chaucer put out by the Kelmscott Press. William Morris and those cats were doing some killer work in the Arts and Craft period. I was watching some documentary the other week on PBS about Elbert Hubberd. He was our, American, equivalent of William Morris. The books put out by Hubbard’s Roycroft Press are pretty, I’ll give you that, but put them alongside Kelmscott books…? Fucking amateur! No wonder William Morris’ daughter considered Elbert Hubbard little more than a tedious and unoriginal parasite. Another cool item is a diary by Anne Rice. Now, I’m no fan, but she has achieved a legitimate icon status. She wrote it while in Paris, researching her second novel. She’d just published her first book, and was grousing about her publisher. I didn’t read it, but my sister plowed her way through the entire handwritten journal so she could write a description. Oh, and there will also be another ultra-groovy lot, but it will be in the manuscript auction, not the rare books auction. A huge collection of letters from William Gaddis. Fucking William Gaddis! I wish I could have written that one….

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Just for the hell of it, you know, to post some pictures, here are a couple of photos I took with my sister’s Christmas camera in her kitchen.

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I’ll end it here. It’s late and I probably should get some sleep. I’ve things to do in in the morning. It’s well into the first week of January, and I need to pay rent and bills and, um, get someone out to fix my water heater…’cause according to the post-modern Oracle-of-Delphi (my iPhone), Friday night it’s gonna get down to twenty degrees. Not a good recipe for a cold shower.

I fucking hate winter! It’s cold. And then there’s those god damn holidays. I just hunker down, pretend to smile, and keep my eyes scanning for new leaves, new buds, on the trees and shrubs. Spring can’t come fast enough. My plan for mid-autumn 2010 is to be heading to Oaxaca de Juarez or perhaps Johannesburg–wait out the winter in a fair clime. Call me a simpering wimp, but I’ll be damned if I’ll ever suffer through another Texas winter! I may be a traitor to my Norse genetic heritage, but I haven’t found gray skies and short days romantic for at least two decades. If I had my druthers, it’d be back to Olduvai Gorge, in spitting distance from the equator. Oh, yeah–see you there!

I might have to play a quick and dirty game of catch-up with this blog.

It’s nine-thirty on Sunday night…December 6th. I spent all of last week in Dallas, and tomorrow, before dawn, I’m on the road back to Dallas to do another week’s worth of work.

I’m decompressing at C4 Workspace. This is where over the weekend Pete and I worked on a short film for the San Antonio Film Commission’s 48 Hour Film Experience. Todd and Debbie were so kind to let us use C4 as a headquarters and shooting space. Everything is calm now. And, man, I’m just crazy about this new lighting scheme Todd installed while I was out of town. Big paper Chinese lanterns with colored compact fluorescent bulbs.

The edit for the film (entitled Voodoo Daddy) finished fairly early. Pete did the lion’s share of the edit. I fancy myself a damn fast editor, but Pete’s no slouch. I haven’t seen him cut video in a few years, and he’s got Final Cut down solid.

What bit us in the ass was printing to a mini DV tape. Pete, who was using his lap top, had never produced a video tape from his computer. I supposed most of his deliverables have been on DVD or digital files.

The deadline was eight pm at the El Tropicano Hotel, just on the other side of downtown. Maybe a seven minute drive. We seemed to be doing good. Printing to tape is a real-time procedure. This little seven minute film only took seven minutes to copy onto a miniDV tape. But, dammit, it wasn’t recording the audio. I went in to the editing program and tried to change the settings. Tried again. It didn’t look like the audio was registering. Pete gathered up his laptop, external hard drive, and my Panasonic DVX camcorder (all of these devices were interconnected with a spaghetti of USB and Firewire cables, all humming along, doing their thing. We got in my truck and headed to the drop off. Time was ticking away. I parked illegally and we rushed inside, the tape just finishing. I untethered my camera as we walked to the entrance. I played back some footage. Nope. No sound.

Thankfully, Pablo Veliz was in the lobby. He quickly assessed the problem and reconfigured the software and got the machines chugging out a third copy, this time, finally, with audio. Thanks so much Pablo!

We made the deadline by maybe thirty seconds.

Some of the film folks crowding about were asking me how it went, you know, was it any good?

“Well, it has a beginning, a middle, and an end. It was a difficult birth. And even though I might not want to put it, as is, on my reel, I don’t feel a need to ask for my name to be removed from it.

I was too busy running around like an imbecile, hauling abut equipment and dressing impromptu sets, and, dammit, I would have loved to have taken some still images. Hopefully some of the photos shot by Paul Vaughn and Siggi Ragnor will surface to give a sense of some of the flashes of coolness and occasional rare brilliance.

Here’s a link to a piece of simple dream sequence I put up online. We shot this just a few hours ago.

I titled the clip Voodoo Freakout, and, really, I think even Pete (who wrote this quickie script) would have rather we had created something which could have legitimately sported such a title. But, it is what it is. And the final and rushed edit is really rather fun.

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When I drove home from Dallas last Friday night, I realized, in something of a panic, that my low fuel warning light had come on in that Sargasso Sea dead-zone on I-35E between Waxahachie and Hillsboro. There’s nothing there. No towns, no gas stations, nothing. Spooky at night, more so when driving on empty.

Thankfully I saw an exit sign for Carl’s Corner. This is where you can find Willie Nelson’s famous roadhouse and truck stop. It’s strange, but I’ve never visited the place before.

Kind of a weird place. I picked up some snacks and a cup of coffee (coffee’s free if you buy gas). The convenience store was awash and aswarm with folks fingering a wide range of countrified trinkets and geegaws, along with all those Hostess snack products, and each and every one one would not seem out of place in line to get Sarah Palin to sign a copy of the first book he or she had bought since the final in that Goosebumps series.

While I was gassing up, I saw the gibbous moon rising above a line of parked and idling eighteen wheelers. I fetched my camera and took this shot. Guess I could have benefited from a tripod.

Speaking a photos. Below is a picture I took last week in Dallas. I was leaving my sister’s place and about to get into my truck to drive to the Auction House where I have been working. I was struck by these birds perched on wire, they looked cold and miserable. Nothing to do but suck it up and wait for Spring. But maybe I was projecting my own mindset on to these birds.

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Okay, it’s getting late. I need to go home, maybe find a morsel of something to call dinner, and then get some sleep. Tomorrow begins another work week in Dallas, three hundred miles to the north.

Here’s a photo of Ramon Juan Vasquez (not to be confused with his father, Ramon Vasquez y Sanches).

He was reading some of his poetry last weekend at URBAN-15. Ramon is the director for AIT (the American Indians in Texas), and last week they hosted an event of art, music, poetry, craft, and such. This is their first year with this particular event. It was small, intimate, and a lot of fun.

And the weekend before that I worked on two dance video projects. Saturday was a collaboration between ST Shimi and myself. I chose the location and…um, well, I shot the video and will hopeful get around to editing it soon. But mostly it was Shimi providing a wonderful performance of dancing with a hula hoop along the San Antonio river. I was very honored top be able to work with her. Shimi is an extraordinary artist…and a beautiful woman to photograph.

The next day I worked with my friend Deborah. She was working on another mandala project. She brought in one of her daughters, Katie, as a model. Her two gorgeous girls are as breath-taking as their mom. Here’s a shot I took of Katie with a still camera while my video camera was rolling.

Deborah’s project was staged just a hundred feet from where Shimi was dancing Saturday. In fact, Deborah was on hand to help with that project.

That was quite an interesting and fun weekend. Dancing on the river. And well, the following weekend, hanging out with San Antonio’s native peoples was also fun. Right, and so here I am, recalling this weekend, making a quick and dirty film with people whose company I enjoy. I only wish there was some way to make this sort of stuff pay me money….

Alright. I really got to clean this up, post it, and head home to bed.