Is this all really worth it?

I’m killing myself looking up queer film festivals around the world to send my film to, but I bet it won’t be accepted in more than three-quarters of them. The more I go through film festivals’ programs, the more I see that they types of films they screen have the gay/lesbian/queer thing very much upfront — and that’s not necessarily the stories that I want to tell. Sure, I made Stay which was super gay, but with something like June, which I think is my best, most artistic film to date, I want to explore other issues than just being gay. Maybe my films are too weird/artsy to fit in to typical film festivals; I’ve been reluctantly submitting my film as an experimental film, which I never considered it to be when I made it. And when my mom came in as I was going crazy, flipping through multiple open tabs on my browser of different film festivals, she asked what I was doing. When I told her I was sending off my film to festivals to get super famous, she told me to stop dreaming and left. I don’t expect to get super famous from my films, but I’d like some validation that my art and my stories are worth seeing, worth showing to other people. I’m thankful June has been screened at the Vancouver Queer Film Fest, though they have screened legitimately weird things, so my film hardly qualifies as too weird for them.

Maybe I was right to give up on film. The acceptances of my writing in various lit mags (despite lots of rejection from other places) has made me feel confident that my stories are worth publishing. I guess I feel like I either have to make clear, narrative films with gay characters facing gay situations, or I shouldn’t be a queer filmmaker if I expect popularity. And I don’t know if I want to do that.

My brain is a pile of mush right now so I will leave my existential crisis at that.

Watch me “act”!

Here’s the rough cut of the first short film I wrote and directed, titled Stay.  As I posted in the comments (but not in the description… I should probably do that sometime), the rough cut was filmed first to submit to a film festival (the Vancouver Queer Film Festival) in hopes of buying me more time so I could make the film with Nelson and Minh. It was shot in one afternoon and edited quickly vs. the real film, which was shot in three days. I think Nelson and I did only a couple rehearsals before shooting too, both on the day of.  It’s imperfect and it really is rough and I wish I could’ve acted a bit better (but I’m not an actor so I excuse myself), but what’s there is there, and it’s not all bad.

Enjoy me half-naked!

The Wannabe-Filmmaker’s Guide to Making a Short Film — 5 days to go

Updates:

No new official crew updates today, although I did get an email from someone about being an Art Director. We’ll see how that goes.  I also forgot to mention my good friend and former co-worker Chris might be able to “lend a handy hand”, as he called it.  He’s good with pretty much all positions so I’ll just say he’s a wildcard.

Crew update:
Director: me!
Cinematographer: Joe
1st Camera Assistant: Chris
Gaffer: Zac

Drivers:
Elaine
Kelvin?
Chris?

To be filled in:
Makeup
Sound
Gaffer/lighting
Art Director
Camera op.
EPK
Stills photographer
1st AD

Got distracted today and didn’t get to look for a frame.  I should really stop doing that.

I also added the role of still photographer to the list, which means I have another person to look for.

For all those who actually have producing experience: is $200 to use someone’s place for a film shoot for a day a reasonable offer?  The woman whose place we’ll be shooting in has also suggested $300 if we are to be needing both weekend days.

Is it wrong of me to want to negotiate with her?  I mean, I’m more than willing to pay her something — of course she should get something.  But $300?  Hmm… my gut feeling says it’s quite a bit.  I’d feel more comfortable paying $200 for both days, but I think I need other opinions.

I also spent the day sending out emails to some old film friends to see if they’d be up for helping out.  I got one response back, and he’s in Japan.  So not going well so far.

Perhaps tomorrow will be more productive since it’s a weekday.  Let’s hope so.

PS.  If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that I really dislike producing.  Part of it is not knowing anyone/anything.

Should I be concerned about how this is all happening?  I’m sure I’ll start panicking later.

The Wannabe-Filmmaker’s Guide to Making a Short Film — 6 days to go

After turning on my phone this morning, I get a text from Joe, saying the following:

My Ear infection spread to my throat and it started to swell up so I had to go to the hospital.

My immediate response was something along the lines of, “When did you have an ear infection??  Also, OMG!!”

But seconds later, another text popped up:

But I’m better now.  It’s like that time we filmed the pill movie and I had no voice.

Six days to go and I have an almost-mute cinematographer with an infection.  Just what I need.

Updates:

We have a gaffer!  YES!!!!  (courtesy of Joe) We may also have a driver, my friend Kelvin, to help get equipment on Friday (courtesy of me).

Crew update:
Director: me!
Cinematographer: Joe
1st Camera Assistant: Chris
Gaffer: Zac

Drivers:
Elaine
Kelvin?

To be filled in:
Makeup
Sound
Gaffer/lighting
Art Director
Camera op.
EPK
1st AD

I posted an ad for an Art Director on craigslist.  No response as of yet.

Was supposed to go shopping for a photo frame but didn’t have enough time, as I had to send out frantic emails to the woman whose house we’ll be using for the shoot.  Eventually, she texted me tonight about things, and mentioned a “rental fee”, which of course, I completely forgot about.  If I were to be writing a guide book, one of the things I’d advise wannabe-filmmakers to be aware of is paying people — everyone associated with the shoot.  Not just cast and crew.  And paying doesn’t have to be money, either.  It can be food, or copies of DVDS, or a credit on IMDB or something.  You gotta work that out.  But be aware that people will probably expect something from you, unless you’ve made it perfectly clear that you are a dirty broke artist making a film for absolutely no money.

Joe said the total for the equipment rentals is about $144, which isn’t too bad, really.  I don’t mind paying it, if it’s what we need to make a good movie.

Since I have the day off tomorrow, hopefully we can sort out some more details.  Let’s hope no one else gets any infections.

Untitled song

Was playing this song earlier and I really dug it, which doesn’t happen a lot with my own songs.  I should probably get on recording this and my “album” sometime.

Untitled

Here lie the fragments of a broken yesterday,
and the soul of a boy cursed to live it.
“This is a headline in my mind,” they all would say,
as the ties begin to curdle and they mutter, “I can’t forgive it.”

Salty hands, wiping down the rivers on your face
before shoving them in pockets hoping no one sees.
Must be comfortable living in that little bubble,
and when I turn around to wave all I get is your back to me.

CHORUS:
Blink once, and I’m still here.
And once again, you’re too near.
I wish we could disappear
from this town.

Black and white, the only shades that appear to you.
My heart is just a pawn in your little chess game.
Stare as hard as you want, but this ain’t no magic mirror,
and in the end when I’m gone all you’ll have is yourself to blame.

Blink once, you’re still here.
And once again, I’m too near.
I wish we could disappear
from this town.
From this town.

If there’s a place that exists that we can finally go,
Take my hand, we’ll board a train, or we’ll never know…

CHORUS:
Blink once, and we’re still here.
And once again, everybody’s getting nearer.
I wish we could disappear
from this town.
Or we’ll never know.

The Scientist

I finally understand the meaning of the title and this song.

A scientists tests hypotheses, analyzes data and evidence, and comes up with a conclusion.  I realize this may be redundant, as I’ve mentioned this in previous posts, but I’ve been poring over what happened with me and G. these last few months (It’s such a shame for us to part…), analyzing what happened, both our lives and what we wanted, in order to come up with a viable solution.  Even though we had decided to break up, I couldn’t just change my feelings for someone I had been with for more than 9 months. I genuinely felt that our situation was one that could be solved if we– or rather, I– spent enough time to figure things out (Questions of science/science and progress do not speak as loud as my heart).  That’s why I never felt completely terrible when we broke up and the following months because I still thought there might be hope.

It took me half a year to figure it out, to come to a conclusion and a possible solution (I had to find you/tell you I need you).  I think some people think that once a couple breaks up, it’s done forever.  But G. was someone special– obviously, since I was with him for so long (tell you I set you apart).  In addition to thinking about a solution, I also reminisced about all the times we spent together including the times we said “I love you” to each other, all the sweet things I’d do for him, and (last but definitely not least) all the times we had awesome sex.  Essentially, I made myself sad (tell me you love me/come back and haunt me).  A lot of the time, I wished we could try again, and I suggested it to him (Oh, let’s go back to the start…), but to no avail (running in circles/coming up tails/heads on a science apart)

When he told me he was seeing someone, any hope I had left was gone.  I’m not even going to attempt to describe how much it hurt, more than anything he’s claimed he ever done to hurt me (no one ever said it would be this hard). 

And now.  Now with my newfound science and knowledge, I’m forced to start again without him.

I’m going back to the start…

I am the scientist.

“A Million Times (All On You)” — Aaron Chan

I’m again at a loss for what to post so here’s a song I co-wrote and performed for the first time last weekend where I screwed up.  Enjoy!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 3: A song that makes you happy

You may or not have noticed but I don’t really have a giant collection of happy music to pick from mainly because I don’t stop to listen to happy music when I’m happy, so I spent some time rifling through my CDs.  Eventually, I picked Jeremy Fisher’s “Scar that Never Heals” though I think I’ve posted it in a previous post.  Anyway, I don’t have much to say about this except that I love Jeremy Fisher.  And he’s a Vancouverite too!  🙂

The alienation of my music

[posted from my myspace blog page since I’m too lazy and uninspired to write anything new today]

This weekend is Pride in Vancouver.  I’m going to be helping out with some filming of queer events and performers for a documentary a friend of mine is putting together about local queer performers in the city.  Of course, interviewing bands and musicians who are playing shows when I myself am a queer musician and have a hard time even getting a show kinda makes me jealous.  But there’s something else that I’ve been thinking about as well.

When I think of “gay” coupled with “music”, I–and I think most people–tend to think of dance-y, trance-y, electronic stuff that simply makes people want to dance.  And who better dances than the gays?  (The correct answer is no one, in case you didn’t get that)  Then there are also bands that can put on a good show because well, frankly, they’re noisy and during a celebration like Pride, noise = good.

But then there’s me.  My music/style isn’t particularly upbeat, both in a tempo sense as well as an uplifting way, and it’s not really loud either.  I thought about it a lot over the last few days and I realized my music isn’t… very gay.  Not that that’s a bad thing or that I feel like I should change my sound.  No way.  But it’s just difficult sometimes to try and get people, especially the gay community, to listen and enjoy my music when I’m so much different than what they typically listen to.

My music can be brooding, pensive, and sad, and a lot of people don’t want to listen to that, which is fine, whatever.  But then to see other musicians making it because they’re more… accessible or have a more popular sound and have more fans is kind of disappointing, especially when I feel like my music and my songs are a lot more meaningful than stuff that’s already out there.

I sent an e-mail to the Pride organizers with a link to my music several months ago when I saw an ad for acts in the upcoming Pride.  I never got a response from them so I can only say that my music wasn’t what they were looking for.

It’s not that I don’t have any happy songs, but that I don’t feel the need to write happy songs when I’m happy because I’m out there being happy!  It’s only when I’m utterly depressed and unwilling to do anything else that I write.  And if that gets me fewer gigs, than what am I supposed to do?

Anyhoo, I’ll try not to be a downer for Pride.  Just a reminder that my short film, Stay, will be screening on August 16th at 9:30 at Tinseltown.  Happy Pride, tout le monde,

Aaron

Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=100468409&blogId=537701612#ixzz0vJs1OGcW

10 Defining Moments of My Life (so far) — #7: Music

7.  I had managed to snag my friend to come along with me to this coffee shop in Burnaby I had never been to.  I phoned earlier to ask about signup times and was told that it started at 8:00.  We both got there at around 7:30, in awe of the small setting and the music equipment on stage.  My friend saw this chalkboard of times and told me to sign up for a time.  I wrote my name down for 8:20, the first act after the host played at 8:00.  The waiting and anticipation was incredibly hard to handle.  My friend was extremely nervous, for both of us, as we didn’t know what would happen.  Finally, when my time rolled around, I was called to the stage.  Because the café already had a piano there, and most people that performed were guitarists, the host asked me, “Are you doing spoken word?” to which I shook my head and pointed to the wooden piano.  After I played my 20 minutes, I received positive comments by a few audience members and I was filled with such humility and I genuinely felt like a real musician, despite always being told from my family that I sucked at everything.