Evan Munday is just plain cool.

Imagine my surprise when, after posting the first audio score for The Dead Kid Detective Agency on youtube, I get an email from the author, Evan Munday himself, complimenting me on my project!  Not to mention I think he’s a pretty awesome and funny guy, so that was a pretty cool day for me — and a fellow Canadian author too!  He’s even posted a little mention of me and my project on his blog! (I realize I’m blogging about another blog about a youtube video… but I don’t care)

Everyone should read Dead Kids.  It’s a funny, entertaining novel not just for young adults (though I was forced to read it as part of my English class curriculum but am very thankful for it).

http://www.idontlikemundays.com/2012/07/05/scoring-the-dead-kid-detective-agency/

I knew filmmaking was hard…

… but dammit.  I didn’t think it would be this hard.  Or maybe it’s being a producer.

Either way, it makes me want to stick to writing and only writing.

“Gymnopedie No. 3” — Erik Satie

A piece that will likely be in my short film I’m shooting on Saturday.  It’s so simple and mournful that I couldn’t imagine anything suiting the scene better than this.  I know I’m being vague because I’m not explaining the scene, but if you really do want to know, click on this to find out more details: http://www.indiegogo.com/June-a-silent-ghost-short-film

Anybody want to fund my next short film project?

I have some really good ideas for some blog posts but I always get to posting something at around 11pm when it doesn’t give me much time to really flesh out the idea, read it over at least once, and make it seem brilliant.  I should try and get my posts done earlier, eh?

In other news, does anyone reading this want to give me money to help me make my next short film?  I have two pet projects I hold fairly close to my heart that I want to take ample time to film and make sure it is utterly… well, brilliant.  They’re almost the same idea except told in different ways: the first is about a young man who meets a man claiming to be him from the future, who has come back in time to warn him about meeting a guy he will eventually fall in love with which would end badly.  This one would be easier to make even though it is a few pages less in length but only 3 locations.

The other script is more artistically and experimentally presented.  It’s about the same young man who is told, through images and scenes, that he will have to make a choice between love but ruin afterwards, or missing out on love but possibly never knowing it — a take on “it is better to have loved than to have never loved at all.”

I know I could try and make both of these without budgets but I actually have a couple actors in mind and am convinced that they would only do something like this if they got paid, not to mention everyone else helping out with the film.  I haven’t made a film with any sort of budget so it would be a good learning experience (not to mention, yay!  Money!).

Unfortunately, a lot of funding sources that I have looked at (Canada Council for the Arts, BC Film) require applicants to not be a full-time/undergrad student, of which I am, and I haven’t the slightest idea of how to find a producer who might be able to help (maybe craigslist…?  Kidding!).  If only I had richer friends… kidding!  Well, sort of.

So if anyone does indeed want to help out a lowly filmmaker realize a project or two that he has great belief in (which is rare for him) or know of a producer with some money lying around, send him an email and you will make one usually unlucky boy feel actually lucky: evil_ice_dragon@hotmail.com.

Dream 8

Dream #1 in a series of 3 dreams (last entry was #2).  While typing this up, I noticed I say “weird” a lot.

Dream 8, March 27, 2005

I was at school in Mr. Mey’s room and it was supposed to be Law class, but there was a bunch of kids from my grade there, learning Socials (Anthony Lee, Ian, Jonny Wong) and me.  Mr. Mey was writing some notes on the board and I took out my notebook and started to write it down too cuz I said I really didn’t have notes (I have Mr. Sanky!).  I think people around me were kinda confused cuz I wasn’t supposed to be in their class but since I had Law, it was weird.  Then, some people in Law class started coming in and I told them Law was next block though it wactually isn’t.  Then, I saw this biology book and I looked in the cover and my name was on it!  Someone had taken my book and I had found it again.  Either the bell rang or everyone disappeared, I dunno.  I took my book and went to biology a weird route.  When I got inside, there were only a few desks and those desks were occupied by people.  I started walking over to Chels but only said hey when there weren’t any seats around her.  So I walked back to another empty desk and sat down (around Matthew and Merrick).  I believe they both started talking to me, kind hitting on me but Matthew was making it more obvious, especially when he took my hand.  I excused myself and went into the “old house kitchen”, sat near the fridge and started crying.

I think it was because I didn’t want to (and kinda still) fall in love with either of them, even though they are really great guys.  Then, one of them came in (I can’t remember who) ana dhe sat with me and it was nice.  I’m not sure if this next part is in the same dream but it’s school-related so I’ll put it here anyway.

I was in Ms Mersiadis’ class for French (?) and people were presenting these things.  I remember Jonny Won’g sthing and it was like this guy hiding.  His poster was quite big and just a drawing, compared to other people’s which were smaller and all writing.  Meanwhile, I was putting little stick-thing into a box divided into little squares.  I think I was trying to make them into candles but it would only work better if I took a whole bunch and tried to press them in; if I did it individually, it was harder to get them in straight, and they would angle in weirdly.  For some reason, the projector was on and the people had to go in front of the light and put the thing in front of the light and it would be magnified.  Joyce Lau was helping me with my weird thing, I think.  Some other people in Ms. Mersiadis’ class were there too (Duncan, Erica, etc.)  But Jonny is not in her class, he’s in my class for French which is weird.

Untitled

Back in 2007, I took part in Project Stitch, a project organized by local youth in preparation for World AIDS Day on December 1st. There were different activities divided amongst us and since I was into creative writing, I joined the Slam Poetry folks (which really consisted of me and two other girls). During my time there, I wrote this poem to express how I felt about people.

My bones remain broken,
My bruises visible.
The damage of deception, betrayal, and blistering words have cut
these canyons in my heart.
So I feebly kneel before the pieces, attempting to begin building these shards
But
Here comes an invited guest,
Loading up on trust,
Before walking away.
Followed by a mother,
And a lover,
Several others,
All taking a bite of what I’ve too freely handed out.
It’s not long till I’m left with my heart,
Stale as a rubber tire.

Without question, I leave my heart in the cold,
Until it is coated with frost and suspicion.

Without doubt, I construct and fortify layers of walls,
Of stone and insecurity.

Without hesitation, I put up frigid, heavy chains,
Melded from iron and isolation.

Every ending has its lessons:

My bones still remain broken,
But my bruises lay unseen,
Beneath this vast, desolate, empty entity
That I used to call “me”.