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 The spell is broken with the alarm ringing and the food being withdrawn.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.”

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