Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Three hours ago, I watched the music videos for Modest Mouse's "Float On" and Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out." They're quite similar visually; at once exploiting photo-realism and two-dimensional puppetry surrealism (very much like Coldplay's "Trouble.")

I wonder where and when this new surge of Gilbert and George-inspired creativity came from?

Music videos have always been on the cutting edge; their flexibility stemming from their lack of financial backing. But nowadays, the ubiquitous, mindless, million-dollar flair just can't compete with the intellectual thirst quencher of, say, a video by my hometown brethren, Floria Sigismondi.

Then again, Alien Ant Farm's "These Days" was filmed using guerilla tactics, which has been employed in film for decades; a way to create the false impression of spontaneity when really, the environment is controlled, reactions limited to surprise, amusement and annoyance.

Where am I going with this? Ah, I remember now. Nowhere.

***

Absent from school, but the Slovak told me my painting was picked to be judged to see if it will be in the exhibition this Friday, along with four other grade 12s and five grade 11s. Three will be picked from each school in total. On MSN messenger:

Slovak: "u know what's interesting...all the artworks that they picked were either black and white or gray...only your painting was colourful...she didn't want my acrylic painting and your pastel drawing from last year...it seems like the school has no money for paints..or the students can make only boring black and white artworks"

me: "But at the same time, by choosing black and white, it was probably her way of legitimizing her stupid program. Like, black and white equates to seriousness; colour, frivolous and fun (like me. lol)"

Now I have to get my hands on a digital camera for opening night. Not because I especially like taking pictures of myself, but because of the Crazy French Guy, Pierre (who's moving to Paris from Dijon this year, accepted into the most prestigious computer security school in France; only 200 people from around the world get in each year).

He sent me a picture of himself holding the pastel drawing I made for him a year back, framed with the present he got for his birthday. Wrote how he's hanging it in his apartment in Paris. I was admittedly flattered, so I've decided to send him a photo of something I'm actually proud of (didn't tell him that [I wasn't proud of my gift to him], because he seems to genuinely like what my mediocre skills created.)

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