Monday, 31 July 2017

Not Microwaving But Drowning

I'm working on a storyboard for an idea I had while waiting for sad pasty to reheat. The title is a play on the poem 'Not Waving But Drowning' by Stevie Smith

Story: A journey taken in the mind’s eye while going through the bleak ritual of microwaving a cornershop meat pastry.

Idea for the setup of this script: Film a microwave cooking a pasty for a minute. Superimpose the animation on the door of the microwave. The spell is broken with the alarm ringing and the food being withdrawn.

Voiceover monologue (bold is scenes to be animated):

“There are moments that, in the words of Roy Batty, are like tears in rain. These fascinate me. The world carries on regardless. We are clouds of particles toing and froing, dancing and colliding. We move on flowing currents plaiting together. Paths that no individual can decipher, between the usual miracles.

Riding the bus, reading the paper, tying shoelaces, staring out the window. An old man strips naked in the supermarket. Light reflecting off the door handle looks like a sassy woman. Twice a day the clock smiles. We are an unlikely event. There is only now; frame after frame sliding past. We are born, live and die, now. Now, here, I am living! Now my pasty catches up with me.”

Friday, 14 July 2017

Early Drawings

I found some of my early drawings. Densely packed with imagery, looking them over is like jumping in a time machine and travelling backwards, becoming the person I was. I had a lot going on in my head, I still do. The difference now is that I've learnt coping mechanisms. I also learnt that in an orchestra not all instruments have to be playing at once. These are maps to my pre-adolescent psyche.

This one is so fragile I had to glue it to a piece of card to stop it disintegrating. It dates from around 2000-2001 when I was twelve going on thirteen.
This one was made when I was fourteen and being homeschooled. 
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