Passion of the Mime

This morning was absolutely sublime. I sat inside the corridor before my Biology classroom reading material out of Nine Stories, and no one had any idea who I was. No one even noticed me. That sense of animosity, that feeling that I didn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things was outright intoxicating and absolutely essential for my good mental health. You see; I take my biology class at a completely different college then the one I take my film production classes at. At my day-college I’m just some kid who hangs around the laboratories. To the girl who sat across from me as I built plastic molecules, I was just a sheepish little boy. But when I had to step up before the entire class on Tuesday night I ceased being that sheepish boy and became Brock H. Brown the auteur. And it was outright frightening.
Characterizing and articulating my thoughts and feelings regarding this (now school sponsored) project has been difficult. Of course, I could begin by first describing the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy I experienced when I was given this distinction. In fact, I could even go back a little bit and describe how satisfied I was to be recognized among the four class “finalists”. But more likely, I’m better off highlighting the surreal disposition I held myself in the following morning. “Did that just happen?”
Maybe I’d be better off describing how inept I’ve suddenly become at articulating my artistic and creative impulses. (I could tell you that it’s because I no longer feel like one of the “alienated ones”, that it’s as if I no longer have a right to muster indignation in my work anymore) I could describe all of these feelings and feel wrong for stating them because in the end, I have no right to complain. Moreover, it’s just a stupid student project.
But it’s gotten me thinking none the less; especially when I had to stand up in front of the entire class and hunch over a podium judging how much each student is worth to the school’s project. That age-old adage of how disenfranchised artists often end up falling prey to the woes of the spotlight is true.
It’s just awkward, but in a completely new sense. Before, I had to look up to speak to my fellow classmates. Now, they look down. And I apologize, but to have a girl repeatedly tell you “she’s happy she didn’t have to sleep with anyone to get on the project” is just creepy.
Anyway, I’m sorry. Enough ranting. It’s just stifling: Tuesday night I sat on a bench and had this great talk with a fellow classmate about ‘his vision’. He told me about all of these great skate videos he filmed; about the great locations he’s found and about how much fun he has making films. And then 20 minutes later I stood in front of the class and told him he wasn’t right for the job of DP while the teacher looked on approvingly.
When that happened I pulled a Thom Yorke, I mentally checked out of the hotel so to speak. "I’m not here, this isn’t happening."
English with Marco is comparatively better. It’s a droll subject, but it’s nice to be in a class where I don’t have to ‘hire’ anyone.

Nevertheless, my creative interest in the project hasn’t diminished in the slightest. I spent all day today looking up pictures of actors so I could visualize my characters. And I’ve also snatched photographs by famous artists in order to shade the look of the film.
Back when Gabe, Rebeckah, Alex and I visited the Getty museum in California, we saw a great exhibit of ‘genius photographers’. By tracking down that exhibit online, I’ve been able to find plenty of inspiration for the imagery of my short.

Yeah, I’m a little taken back by the experience. But I’m also excited to begin working on my film. I wanted Gabe and I to have a bigger presence in the Phoenix film society; maybe this is our doorway.