I heard that pretentious term a few months back and kind of love it.
It has been a month of thinking and writing and rearranging with drawing for the book on hold until the copy is pinned down like some anemic wrestler. Anemic wrestler? See what's been happening? That came to me just now! I'm kidding. I read that somewhere... Somewhere in this update! Totally kidding.
What does any of this have to do with Back Already??
A few cool things going on, you know, to keep you occupied until this book comes out. Been working on some drawings for Echorev again. Here is a sneak peak at that.
Oh Nancy's "Calamity & Ruin" opened in Brooklyn a few weeks back and was a great success.
If you haven't been over there yet you still have time!!!! If you want to catch the live performance and eat grilled hotdogs you have one more chance at the closing on March 30th from 3:00-6:00pm.
And!!! If you are still wondering what in the hell Oh Nancy is after all this time... this interview with myself and the two other directors might illuminate things.
This is another poster from the series for Monkeyrock. Might want to check this out after the closing of "Calamity & Ruin"?
One more thing before the next (still very rough) excerpt from the book.
Early this month a good friend Kenny Riches launched his own kickstarter for a series of short films. Kenny is a really incredible filmmaker (among many other more impressive things he was responsible for shooting my own kickstarter video) and fantastic human being and the project he is raising money for is an important one. I'm going to leave it to him to explain it. Click here to check out his project.
And now let's get to some documentary fiction.
Some Back Already? already.
When I got home from work my roommates were already there, Ryan making a mess in the kitchen and Trisha watching. It smelled delicious.
I said so and hoping for dinner slumped down at the table. Ryan had a kind of magical knack with leftovers. He was in the process of turning the three old potatoes, the last of the salami, half a head of lettuce and a box of shriveled mushrooms into a roast chicken.
Trisha kindly handed me a beer from the fridge. "You as tired as you look?"
"I'm alright." I lied. I was exhausted. My first week had felt like two. My body ached like my bones were bruised. "I'm glad you aren't cooking calimari." I said.
"I was thinking about fish today." Ryan said. Trisha gave me a 'here we go again' kind of look, rolled her neck around and showed me the whites of her eyes. "You know that saying, 'give a man a fish and he'll eat for a day, teach a man to fish and he'll eat for the rest of his life'?"
"Don't you think that saying is a little outdated? Where are you going to fish, the harbor? It's full of god damn poison! So he has to go out to sea. Now you have to either loan the guy a boat or teach him how to build one? Who has that kind of time? Even if he happens to have a boat already, you know how many fucking fishermen go bankrupt each year in the Boston area alone?"
I shook my head.
"Okay fine, say he actually makes a go of it, does okay. Now he is adding to the environmental disaster that is fishing these days. Great, now the planet is dying even faster. Fantastic. Teaching a man to fish is about the worst thing you could do. If you're going to teach a man, don't mislead him with fish. Get him into 3D modeling. Or grifting. Something fucking useful."
"Maybe teach him to bread and fry the fish," I suggested, "and then sell it at a competitive price."
Trisha sighed theatrically and said, "It's not about the fish guys."
"There are lots of those dumb sayings," Ryan rushed on, prancing around the stove, checking the contents of various pots and poking at pans as he spoke. "'A bird in the hand is worth two in bush?'"
"Trisha, that one is about birds." I said.
"It's not about birds Finn." Trisha rested her head on the table top.
"It's like, dude?" Ryan yelled. "Why are you holding that fucking bird?"
"Put it back in that bush with it's family where you fucking found it!"
"Ryan, you hate birds." Trisha said. She lay down on the floor and covered her eyes with the crook of one arm.
"He likes chicken." I pointed out.
"I'm picturing them as small birds!" Ryan said. "Like regular small birds."
"It doesn't matter." Ryan was already onto the next one. "How about, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth.' What the fuck is a 'gift horse'?"
"It's not about the gift horse." I said sagely. Trisha cried faintly and rolled over so she was face down on the tiles.
"What. THE fuck. is a fucking gift horse!" Ryan screamed. "Why are we looking into it's mouth?"
"Is dinner ready?" Trisha said, her words smushed by the floor. Ryan began scrapping a pot of rice he had made from stale bread onto plates. "I want to make a book where all of those sayings make sense. 'Don't fuck with horses mouths.' 'Don't steal birds from bushes.' 'Build a man a website and he'll be psyched but then the next year when he want's to update it and you've moved to Rio he's fucked. Teach a man to program instead, he won't enjoy it but then he won't have to try and track your ass down in fucking Brazil!"
"Junior moved back to Brazil?"
"He got deported."
"Geez." I said, "That sucks for your online portfolio."
Longest update ever?
See you next month.