Life of a Filmmaker

It's kind of "funny" that as soon as I wrote about posting consistency, I disappeared for a week. Well, life as a college undergrad isn't exactly a walk in the park. For the first time this semester, stress is beginning to set in.

I have an ambitious film to shoot with only a week left and preproduction barely halfway completed. The woes of wrangling equipment, talent, and locations are starting to chip away at me.

The Cost of an under-budgeted, understaffed, ambitious short film:
1. Sacrificed storyline - the story will eventually take quite a few slashes.
2. My Grades - For this week, my attention and time will be monopolized by this short. I will undoubtedly be 'slacking' in my other classes in order to start and finish this project.
3. Social Life - Neglecting relationships. 'Tis the life of a filmmaker, I guess.
4. My sanity.

Shooting was supposed to start this weekend...

Stress Reliever: "Bangor Mash" by Devil Makes Three

My Insomnia went Away...

When I got into film school, I knew. Before I ever transferred to the university, I knew. While I was still in high school, I knew! To succeed, I have to dive in headfirst and swim. I knew it was going to be a LOT of work, and take a lot of time. I knew it was going to be challenging, and I relished the opportunity. That was then.

They say I'm supposed to study 2 hours per unit. For one 3-unit class, I should study six hours throughout the week. That averages out to be less than an hour a day; not bad... I have EIGHTEEN units.

That comes out to THIRTY-SIX hours of studying. Over five hours daily, seven days a week. On top of my ten hour school days. I'm exhausted just talking about it.

On the plus side, my insomnia went away...

Did you know, there are no bells in College?

In high school there were bells. We walked around campus like Pavlov's Dog - what was that dog's name anyway? No matter how independent I thought I was, the bells told me what to do; where to go, and when to eat. We even had different bells for Bomb scares and intruders. When the bomb bell rang, the school was corralled in the pen-like football stadium; for "safe" keeping. The intruder drill was easy to remember. It was the same response to an earthquake and an Atom Bomb (circa 1950s & 1960s); duck-and-cover. Despite the risk of "zombie-ism," the bells were comforting. It was effortless. It was easy.

They said college would be Great!. You get to pick your own classes, meet new people, and decide what you want to study... I have to pick my own classes? I have to manage my own schedule? NEW people? What about my friends?... Thrust onto a foreign compound, stripped of friends, and told to "make Mom and Dad proud..."

A dog will learn to swim when thrown into the ocean. Swimming is the least of its worries... Did you know there are no bells in College?