In June, Karl of Extreme Things brought us on a short hike down the rocky shores of Western Malibu. We started at Matador Beach and made our way to Leo Carrillo. There were tidepools, coves, crags, and creatures. After the hike we lounged in the sand, explored the rocky coves, and toyed with some very friendly squirrels.
Throughout life, especially dry foods have been difficult for me to swallow. I drink large portions of water when I eat and often can be seen taking large gulps to push food down. The difficulty varies drastically based on numerous variables I haven’t entirely figured out. It was only within the last few years that I realized this was abnormal and that perhaps I should get some medical assistance.
I moved to Los Angeles seven years ago. I was depressed and broke and it took a few years to get my life and finances in order. It also meant a few years with no medical coverage. I am a generally healthy person and have been lucky enough to avoid doctor’s offices and hospitals for most of life. Thus, when my employer offered me health care a few years ago, I didn’t spend much time thinking over my choices. I chose a doctor near the office and was happy to have medical options again.
I was approaching thirty and had not seen a doctor in several years—not since my food poisoning fiasco in the early part of the decade. A physical seemed like a good idea. Thus, began my relationship with my third-world doctor’s office. Not quite downtown, but nearly, is an inner-city area near MacArthur Park called Westlake. It is a low-income area known for gang violence and drug dealings. MacArthur Park was the location of the infamous May Day Melee in 2007. My previous experiences with the location were daily bus transfers during my bus-riding years where I was often lucky enough to meet people suffering from varying degrees of psychosis. This has little bearing on the doctor’s office other than to reinforce the setting: a run-down urban area that is relatively ignored by those that needn’t frequent it.
The doctor’s office was tiny—wedged between two other tiny offices (one a market and the other a dry cleaner I believe). The door opened onto a carpeted wheelchair ramp, yet the waiting room was so small the declining section working as a ramp offset the levelness of the entire room. The few chairs placed along the wall were nearly teetering on the edge of the decline. The carpet was a patchwork of stains, the walls decorated only in nails and chipping paint. An old window unit blared above the door. A small window and a door separated this miniscule waiting room from the rest of the office: two tiny rooms, a desk, and a small area for bloodwork. There was also a staircase above the chair used for bloodletting that I imagine lead to an upstairs apartment. The unit masquerading as a doctor’s office was clearly meant to be used as a small bookstore or cafe. My apartment is probably larger than the entire office. I would end up visiting this office several times and never did I see another male patient. The waiting room was always full of pregnant women or mothers with young children. It was obvious from the beginning that the office’s expertise would lie there.
I approached the window to announce my appointment and make my copay. I was informed that the office only accepted cash and was ushered across the street to a small grocer where I could use an ATM. I met the doctor, who was very personable and underwent the examination. Everyone at the facility was friendly and competent and although I felt like I was in a run-down free clinic or planned parenthood center, I shrugged it off. I don’t visit the doctor often. I would regret that decision early this year when my swallowing problems intensified.
I was watching an IMAX documentary called Coral Reef Adventure tonight and one of the divers said something I think is pretty profound:
We do not inherit the world from our parents, we are borrowing it from our children.
That small difference in outlook can make a huge impact on how we decide to treat this planet.
Working on the Van Von Hunter project at my job for the last two years has introduced me to a number of people. One of those people is a guy named Travis Stevens who has been playing a major character in the project and contributing a lot of assistance in other ways. He has worked in television and film production for a number of years and is much more friendly and cordial than you may expect from a person mired in an industry known for brewing cynicism and distrust. Much like all of us involved, he has his own aspirations and passions. He has a devout interest in Westerns and Horror and penned a screenplay combining the two. I read it. I liked it. I was absolutely interested when he said he wanted to shoot a scene from the script as a test piece.
There were a number of factors that made me interested. I have recently become intrigued with the Western genre myself (I think I have hit that age where Western story elements suddenly seem relevant as a male). It would be shot on the RED camera, a camera I have been interested in working with. It would be an opportunity to try out a variety of effects and keying techniques on very high quality footage. Travis is a standup guy and has helped me in the past with my Marty Mitchell project. It would be fun. And the clincher, Daisuke. Dais is an editor I work with. He exudes a stoicism and dry wit that makes him a perfect candidate for playing a cowboy. He would be part of the cast. Deal.
Travis wanted his actors to feel comfortable with a six-shooter so he took them and some of us on the crew to a firing range. Despite growing up in “Sportsman’s Paradise” (that’s Louisiana for those who don’t know) surrounded by an extensive hunting culture, I had never managed to fire a real firearm in my life. It was an interesting experience. Holding a real handgun, feeling its weight, experiencing its explosive force, and hearing its deafening roar is intimidating. Especially when you are standing in a firing range where various weapons are being fired every few seconds. There is a great power there and a necessity to treat it with respect. It was a valuable learning experience.
The video shoot encompassed the first three weekends in June. We started in a green screen studio and moved to a ranch for the last day of shooting. Travis compiled a relatively small, but exceptionally efficient crew. Everything was pre-planned, each position was filled, everyone knew what they were doing, and the days ran smoothly. We often wrapped early. The nice thing about the crew is they were all friends and associates of Travis’. Thus, everyone got along very well and most of the time everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. It didn’t feel like work. This was the first shoot I have ever been on that used a crane. It was spectacular to see it in action. I look forward to using a crane on a personal production someday. It allows the camera to get places it can’t normally and move in ways a person can’t. It also makes finding shots and preparing setups much faster. I really enjoyed the location shoot also. Having the actors on horseback trotting across ranch property added a beauty and believability we wouldn’t be able to mimic in a studio.
Now the project is in editing and soon it will be coming my way. I was on each shoot and helped as much as I could, but my real work on this project is yet to come. Soon I’ll receive an edit with all 60-70 shots and the compositing and visual effects process will begin. I have lots of keying, comping, and grading ahead of me. I look forward to seeing this short when we finish it and I hope to work with this crew again in the future.
I have stumbled upon a trend. Every year, my sporadically updated journal seems to hit an extended period of quiet where I am keeping busy, but have no desire to log it. Then I appear seemingly from nowhere and unleash a deluge of updates. Well, kiddies, it’s that time of year again!
After returning from Yosemite, May was relatively quiet. I went on a few fun rock-and-water-focused hikes, learned to make fire various primitive ways, and released the last few Moodoo Moments episodes online. The end of May brought the beginning of two ongoing adventures I’ll post about in future updates: the shooting of Silver Moon (a Western by Travis Stevens) and the medical probing of my esophagus in hopes of curing my lifelong swallowing problems.
June brought 3 weekends of Silver Moon shoots, further esophageal study, and a really cool hike down the rocky shores of Northwestern Malibu beaches. The fourth week of the month was dedicated to socializing with my parents and two nieces while they vacationed here in Los Angeles. Theme Parks, Outdoor Parks, Eateries, Theme Parks, Erika’s birthday, Chloe’s birthday, Dining with Erika’s family, and Theme Parks. It was a busy and fun week.
July began with a camera attached to a long tube exploring my throat quickly followed by a trip to Kernville. Whitewater Rafting and Whitewater Kayaking in one weekend (more on that later). The following weekend brought us to Bell where we helped Erika’s sister sell assorted dishes and desserts as part of a fund-raising event. And so, we arrive at today.
Sport Chalet offers a free introductory SCUBA class once a month. Erika and I checked it out. My one great irrational phobia is suffocation. This leads to claustrophobia at times—something I have had to push through in a few tight mine caves—and great unease when my breathing is obstructed in any manner. I have had difficulty with snorkeling in the past because of the way the goggles cover my nose. I knew this would be a problem today, but I was not going to let it deter me. We were introduced to the basics of SCUBA diving in the shallow end of a diving pool. It took me a bit longer than Erika, but I was able to acclimate myself to the nose-constricting face mask and the odd breathing apparatus. After toying around in the deep end a few times, we signed up for SCUBA lessons. Hopefully, we’ll be certified ocean divers by the end of the summer.
Over the next few days, I’ll post new entries about Silver Moon, Kernville, the Malibu hike, my medical misadventures, and my visiting family.
Everyone’s favorite space pirates decide to share quality advice with the viewers at home.
This week brings you the final episode of Moodoo Moments.
Let us know if you like it or loathe it.
Moodoo Moments 7 on You Tube
Moodoo Moments Vimeo Channel
Moodoo Moments on Facebook
Being a pirate aint all fun and games, you gotta be able to tell intimidating stories too.
Next Wednesday, stop by and see episode 7 – Public Servants (the last episode).
Moodoo Moments Episode 6 on YouTube
Moodoo Moments Vimeo Channel
Moodoo Moments on Facebook
A few weeks back I received a gift from Erika, a tiny little rabbit version of Chinny. She ordered him from a girl online who makes special order yarn bunnies. Now, like everyone else, he has a Facebook page.
Erika and I spent April 26-30 in Yosemite National Park. John Muir and many others have raved about the majesty of Yosemite. Their words are not exaggeration. The earth falls open to reveal blankets of rich green sewn with threads of flowing whitewater; flora climbs huge granite sculptures painted with redwood monoliths. Life seeps from its every pore. Mother Nature is reflected in every pool throughout Yosemite. Her voice in every leaf. It is grandiose, splendorous, humbling. To try to capture its beauty in a photograph is an affront. Photos of Yosemite are mere ambassadors—a tease for future visitors. You cannot capture a star in a telescope.
We slept in a primitive camping area in Hodgdon Meadow where temperatures plunged into the lower 30s at night. All campers throughout the park are required to lock away all food in bear-proof lockers or canisters. A fire was a necessity every night. This is no complaint. You can’t commune with nature by locking yourself away in an air-regulated hotel for large portions of the day. Next time I visit, I certainly want to camp in the back-country and attempt some of the many multi-day hikes… to really experience Yosemite. I want to lie on one of its higher peaks and see the stars unobstructed.
Amidst the trees, waterfalls, rapids, and rivers we saw numerous squirrels, chickaree, woodpeckers, chipmunks, and other creatures. Along the road, we dodged two deer and spotted a foraging bear. We hiked a few trails, felt the spray of a few falls, surmounted numerous rocks, and stared in awe at the sights. Yosemite can keep a person busy for a life time. We’ve barely begun to see it.
Our last day was spent rafting 16 miles down the Merced River with Zephyr Whitewater Expeditions. This was Erika’s first rafting experience, my second. I can’t wait for the day I get to raft class 5 and I hope to eventually have the knowledge and skill to traverse whitewater alone in a kayak.
The night before leaving for Yosemite we camped atop the little-known Pine Mountain with Extreme Things. The night was cold and the wind was ceaseless. The stars were the most populous I’ve ever seen.
What better way for Space Pirates to make extra cash than with their own Pay-Per-View special with beautiful dancing girls?
Episode 6 – Pirate Tales hits the internet this Wednesday.
Moodoo Moments Vimeo Channel
Moodoo Moments Ep005 on YouTube