“Are you filming?” He asked. I said, I always find myself somehow “filming” — I am a camera. Yeah, like that Isherwood quote. I’ve been putting myself to hard work every darned day hoping for a break. I’ve been self-isolating to deal with my identity breakdown that started just over a year ago now. It’s been super tough with me lately and my closest friends around me here in —H, they can all attest to that. (Note to you: I’m so sorry I want to be better! I’m am getting better! I am better. Thank you for all your patience and understanding.)
As the first few days of the news reached a fever pitch, I did not know how to keep going with the archive project. I started posting a video a day 77 days ago to challenge myself. No one knew then that the future would look and feel drastically different than anything we’ve ever known as a human race. We’re all inter-connected, remember?
I am a camera. A self-portrait reveals me. I’m sitting up in bed clacking this on my Logitech keyboard. I’m damp again with tears. A lonely pen sits by lamplight on the dresser unused. A cup half-full of coffee is nestled in the blankets. This is the kind of thing I’ve done lots before. I set up this routine six years ago. Five Hundred Words Before Second Breakfast. I made a podcast about it, remember?
I’m not a camera. I have a heart and conscience too. I am just an eye. I am my gaze.
This is what I was working on: being comfortable with uncertainty and being present. There are many teachers. I’ve gotten much help from audiobooks that I’ve rented from Hoopla for free. My life hack to self-isolation is to keep myself always busy. I have multiple projects always on the go. The day is ideally divided into 4 x 3hr chunks that are bookended with meals. That’s the super long day edition. If you have nowhere else to go, why not? This is how I’ve accomplished a lot of editing, writing, and designing.
Well, what can I say about the state of the world today? Start with the hardest thing.
I think the best way to buy groceries for your friends during a crisis is to support their art. Not only does it feed them, but it also gives them self-confidence (which boosts their immune system.)
Consider this Bandcamp project that I helped my friend put together. Supporting this benefits us both. (I did all the artwork and design.) Today, especially, Bandcamp is waiving all their processing fees so all the money goes directly to the artist.
What’s missing? What’s found? What do we have? What don’t we have? How are things?
What if “music medicine” is real? What if a specific ukulele healed those who are close to death? Is this why they would want to replicate the Benigno’s Ukulele in order to save their kind from death? Is this why the scientists in present-day want to replicate the tone of the artifact? How do I make that plausible? Maybe that’s a job for the director. I’m only a screenwriter for this project. I’m in a good position to imagine this. That’s a wild concept and it just might work.
I think I’ve got it.