Food, Inc.

Tim Burton Made Me Do It

I watched this really awesome Tim Burton interview, where he talked about his art process. His doodles, which he creates during dark times to express an emotional state, eventually turn into characters like Jack Skellington and Edward Scissorhands. I have always loved Tim Burton, but his art seems so much more profound after hearing him speak.

He lets his scribbles express himself; this is something I have always wanted to experience, but lacking the skills I never tried. But his scribbles are just that—-pencil lines! The hardest part is letting yourself go, and letting your hand move on the page.

Today at work I modeled Tim Burton’s doodles. My fine piece of artwork* (see below) was inspired by nightmares I had that morning of birds attacking me (Like in “The Birds!”), and experiencing the delirium of making phones calls to strangers all day long.

*sarcasm

Charlie Kaufman is a Genius

I cannot emphasize enough how much I love Charlie Kaufman. His movies are completely esoteric, and they always make me question life, love, and what it is to be human.

Everyone’s everyone.

[over radio]

Millicent Weems: Now it is waiting and nobody cares. And when you’re wait is over this room will still exist and it will continue to hold shoes and dress and boxes and maybe someday another waiting person. And maybe not. The room doesn’t care either.

Millicent Weems: What was once before you – an exciting, mysterious future – is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone’s experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone’s everyone. So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It’s yours. It is time for you to understand this.
Millicent Weems: Walk.
Millicent Weems: As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving – not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driving, counting off time. Now you are here, at 7:43. Now you are here, at 7:44. Now you are…
Millicent Weems: Gone.

—- Charlie Kaufman, Synecdoche, New York

Life Disintegrating

Koyaanisqatsi. The perfect word to describe life for Americans in this, the 21^st century. Koyaanisqatsi. Life in turmoil. Life unbalanced. Life disintegrating. Koyaanisqatsil; derives from the Hopi language. Koyaanisqatsi: the name of a 1982 visual-musical poetic film by Godfrey Reggio, Philip Glass, and Ron Fricke. (A prophetic warning of days to come?) A film connecting the dots between technology and the destruction of our bloodline, our life. This film, made in the dawn of the rise of glutinous American consumerism, before being green was the cool thing, peels back the layers and slows down—this world we live in, all beautiful and destructive and chaotic and horrible and completely astonishing. Chaos. Chaos.

Koyaanisqatsi: a state of life that calls for another way of living.

Is it too late?

The English Language is Dum