Aug. 9th, 2003

rm: (complete)
I just caught up on some overdue emails to people from past projects I've worked on, and did something incredibly simple that was still a big deal to me, which was researching the logistics of something that's both an idle curiosity, a definitive silliness and a fairly tempting idea. Doing so didn't really make me decide which camp I was in on the subject, but it was still like "oh, right, with the Internet you can find out the logistics of anything" -- which is sort of terrifying, in that technology makes all things possible in the most mundane way _ever_.

Anyway, now I'm going to go turn into a human, do errands and return a script to someone who is very concerned I'm going to steal it from them, despite the fact that such a thought is both a logistical and aesthetic impossibility. I'll try to write something later myself, because right now, I feel sooooooooooo toxic.

Kat lent me Coldheart Canyon last night, which without a doubt is the right thing for me to be reading right now. That said, it's so very Clive Barker. I tend to gravitate towards the work of creative people who are clearly working out not just their issues (aren't we all) but their obsessions in their work. Clive Barker has two that he can't seem to get away from, that really really fascinate me -- one seems to be black man as chameleon trickster figure and the other is large scale living art (obvious in CHC and Weaveworld, less obvious but definitely there is Imajica). Having not read actually the bulk of his books, I have to wonder how many other times this stuff comes up. That said, he's one of those Really Smart People that clearly never sleeps that I _love_ to read interviews with.

You know, I so didn't intend for this to be a long post, but last night Kat and I had a conversation about the renaissance man and the jack-of-all-trades thing -- and I've always had the impression (clearly must be another one of those Stupid Things from My Childhood) that one had to choose an art and stick too it. No. No no no no and fucking no. Not only are all the creative types I really admire people who work in every medium they can get their little paws around, finding that out about someone nearly always elevates my respect levels -- and more and more I'm realizing it's not even remotely an uncommon thing. Which is so exciting to me, and makes me realize that for everything else I was as a child, I was also a too sweet and trusting thing.

Oh and duh, we went to see the new print of Chinatown last night. It looks astounding -- I mean there are still those places where the color quality goes haywire, but otherwise, pristine to the point that you really can't tell when the film was made. I've seen it so many times, that I don't always enjoy it when I see it (it's a looooong film that takes a while to come together) and I have seen it on the big screen once before (about eight or nine years ago at the Angelica), but last night I was so gripped by it and so moved by its really peculiar ambiguities as well as its peculiar place in movie history.... the audience was odd, in that there seemed to be a lot of people there who had never seen it before, and the woman sitting next to me kept starting at me and kicking my foot and I was being a totally saintly movie goer, so I've no idea what the issue was, and a lot of people laughed during the "she's my sister and my daughter" scene, which was odd, but as Kat pointed out, you have to have _some_ reaction to it, and it has become one of those endlessly spoofed things.

Anyway, it'll be at Film Forum (which I discovered I have door to door bus service to from my house) for the rest of the week.

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