Change a lot.

There’s something very nice about a closet of my own clothes in Alissa’s place, pink, blue, red and white seem to be my theme, though I’m getting more neutrals in. I stare at my shoes in the morning: my burgundy vivannas, my mary jane flats with a off-white insole, my nike grey rainboots, my two victorian shoes, one’s pointed, the other curved in the front. I’m glad to have neither narrow or wide feet, no bunions, or a fat instep – I just have my medium, semi scuffed feet (from working). I stare at my grad project wall and my sill of random things: my diary, my sunglasses, notes, my pens and my planner. This feels more at home to me.

I ran auditions for Sitji today. Somehow I like just watching him and Anh joke, their voices take me away from a lot of the stress I’m having this year. I wonder what things will be like when I graduate. . . when they’re not in my fifteen minute radius. Will we be as close, or will graduation really be one big reset button?

I’m not sure if writing in a frustrated state will make anything better, but I am currently diverting stress balls away by eating this delicious tofu my dad cooked. I think it has seafood seasoning and love, even though I’ve become sort of a moody mess because I don’t know HOW to feel about my grad project at all.

I love my dad’s cooking, I want to be a great chef like him. He gets the salt right in our wonton soup, I’m always craving for more moist noodles swimming around my wonton. I chomp on the noodles first, before biting halfway into the wonton to reveal its innards, the delicious mixture of shrimp and beef. I always seem to have to look at it to reaffirm that it is delicious.

But between our lovely conversation about life, my dad happened to bring up my sister mentioned to him sound was pretty much in the can for my shoot. I said very quickly, “I would not like to talk about film at home. I leave it at school.”

With that, my dad changed the subject to wonton.

I had a really epic day, for my shoot day, despite it going a little crazy at first. It started with a taxi driver cab fight, that perpetuated so many stereotypes. Everything was shot well though, and everyone had a good spirit, so I was happy… only that the sound wasn’t recorded right. At the end of the day, I felt so happy and came home and listened to seagulls and wind and the dialogue way way way way in the distance. I wanted to cry, because I realized the finality of film: I can’t reshoot, I have no money. I can’t waste people’s time either. So I’m doing in studio sound sync… my idea is that the grad project is to learn how to SOLVE errors as well as avoid them and make the best damn thing ever. But I just want to make the best damn thing ever.

Oh, my heart and my mind are duking it out right now. My heart says, you are learning, you are growing, you are benefitting from not getting angry, it takes too much energy, be patient and help will be on the way. My mind says fuck that, you gotta demand results and be bitchy and be assertive and make sure shit is done right because damnit you spent a lot of time and money planning this. Where’s my fucking middle ground? It somehow lyses into: you are learning but you also gotta demand results, don’t get angry but be assertive, be patient and you will get results. But that has no practical application this advice to myself: how the hell do I make my own advice tangible?!? EVER?!

Niv has kept me mentally sane for the most part. How can I thank my little friend for not making me run out the door and say I’M NOT A FILMMAKER. I WAS JUST A COMIC BOOK LOVIN’ NERD WHEN I CAME TO EMILY CARR. @#$@#@$@#. Actually, I don’t know if it’s all him that’s making me not run for the hills. I know I want to do this… so I can figure out whether I love it and feel the greatest and dorkiest orgasm of post-secondary life which will be the birth of my grad project, or I can figure out that it will be my bastard child I pretend to never have had and leave at someone’s doorstep.

I write shit man. I need to get into my delusional biography writing self, in which everything is glorious and justified. Of course.

#@$#@S

Also, I’m producing for several people this year: Sitji Chou, Carrie Momborquette, Kristen Turcotte, Cale and Yusra Rabia. Yesterday we ran auditions for Carrie and Sitji. You really do get a spectrum of humanity coming in when you do auditions. And lots of terms to teach my new collaborators: sides, cold reads, etc. I have to hook Kristen and Alvaro up, he’s an interesting sound designer who I met randomly the other day.

I’m also going to collaborate with Emma Walker on a silent film she wants to shoot… plus I’m already helping Catherine along side Ericsson. Then there’s a couple gigs here and there. I just hope I don’t die.. okay… here we go…

I am sacrificing my well being, my social life, my financial stability and my life to my grad project.

All my money is put down.

All my time is devoted to this.

It haunts my dreams, whispers at my lips and captivates my soul.

And all I think is, “Why Blanca, why now?”

The Lady of Shalott locked in her room.

If she looks out her window into the real world, she’ll die.

Her magic mirror shows her Sir Lancelot.

Her descent into the real world.

She dies along the way because the blood freezes in her veins.

Sir Lancelot and King Arthur find her.