Monday, September 29, 2008

the sleeper

Derm and Kate dip their toes into creating a film for big screens with a mobile camera. And yes, the second image is supposed to be upside down.

Friday, September 19, 2008

happy bar wench on vanity

working the end of fashion gig tonight. I've been strapped to the pod for the last couple of days, so dancing behind the bar is going to be a well-deserved groove.

Shoot days for Miara, the narrative peice written by my favourite brasilian expat have been settled on, as well- first week in October. I think I've had sufficient rest from filming. After the insane first six months of this year, I needed a break. But I'm keen to get my AD boots back on and manage the bejezus out of you punk monk folk- and the ring in crew too. No one here is safe.

And while I do see the irony in saying this in a blog- I thought I was self-absorbed until I saw this this morning:

Kind of reminds me of the time that I left my new digital camera alone at home with my old flatmate. When I came home, there were 265 photos of her (the total capacity of the memory card), all taken from arms length. Apparently she didn't know how to delete them. I reckon she just ran out of space to take more.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

kings and lovers

the lover is not the lover anymore, hence my silence. He hasn't come home in about two weeks so I figure he's gone for good this time. It's been a brilliant, sparkling, ugly, crazy two years. Less said about that the better.

Been getting into the new KOL stuff as it comes out. Luckily I have a KOL obsessive at the podjob who is like my own personal KOL newswire. Being drip-fed use somebody was an undeniably pleasurable experience in a week of rather shit ones.

In more abstract and interesting news than all of that, here's yet another article that is pointing towards the pheonix rising of vinyl. To me, it makes perfect sense to buy the vinyl if you're going to purchase music at all. The sound quality argument has been around since day dot, but to my mind, the worth of buying music in a physical form rather than just as a sound file online is in its artifact status. And if the product ceases to be the music itself and starts to become the physical artifact, then why wouldn't you buy the vinyl? There's simply more room for the graphic design, the lyrics and the credits. In other words, all of the tasty merchandising that somehow makes the relationship between the fan and the artists all the more rich.

On that note, this is what I was 'tubin today:

Thursday, September 4, 2008

cool kitten

one good thing about the podjob, discounting the fact that they make me wear shoes indoors, is that sometimes the dude that sits next to you will say, "hey, you've gotta see this kid i met last night," and show you clips like this.

what have jaffas taught YOU today?

I was disgusted to notice this morning that I've actually started thinking in status updates when I'm in front of my work computer. I haven't eaten any breakfast yet, mostly because I was a zombie this morning after working at the bar last night. I had a few leftover strawberries and cream lollies and some jaffas, so I ate all six of those and washed them down with the leftover sunkist that was also in my bag from last night. Then into my brain pops the gramatically incorrect phrase "really wants breakfast". Or it would be grammatically incorrect, had my brain not hardwired the fact that I don't need to put in a definite article to define myself or even conduct my (let's face it, SCINTILATING) internal dialogue in the present tense anymore when I'm sitting in the podchair. Facebook and Twitter do that for me. So it is official: I have become Katiebot, only able to function with the assistance of computational devices, and as such, exist permanently in the past tense.

All of the experimental witch stuff is up on the www for the entire netty universe to see. You can check them all out here. Ours was Heron Ryan, the first one on the list, with the emo-looking tearful eye of an AJ.

In other news, I am totally in lust with Billie Piper again. That sexy period detective thing she did is eclipsed by the eye-whipping that is Confessions of a Call Girl. I am not a TV person, and I'm definitely not the kind of person who can commit to being at home at the same time, week in, week out for a whole television season, but this may be the show that breaks me. I'd like to think that all this robotic becoming is rubbing off on my under-developed ability to keep to some semblance of a routine.