To Alaska, and for what?
I don't remember many of the stories Papa told me, but i do remember that no matter what in life he was someone who dedicated itself fiercely to whatever it was he was doing. I have stretched myself so thin over these past few months that i haven't been able to do the same. I miss the vigor in what i do, and for that i am bleeding myself of luxury to remind myself not only of gratefulness, but also to really test my ability as a millennial in a very rapidly out-growing age. Yes, even as a millennial things are beginning to outgrow me; cultural norms, ideals, beliefs, practices, technology, the list is endless. I can only imagine that this grows exponentially as i do, and pretty soon my relevance will be short lived, long winded and ultimately: gone.
Anyway, onwards. I worked very closely with Micah Hamilton on the following piece. We put a lot of hours and manpower into the short film, its quiet and tells the story of the 1924 studio life. An often-staged theatrical performance based around the world of authenticity: two things that are quire contradictory, theater and audience.
Nevertheless, the piece reverberates the truth of the work we put into the things we do. Whether they are ideas, fluff talk or real...
Alaska is very real, and this trip to Her without a cellphone, internet, any form of communication other than my voice box and writing will be an ode to the life my late Papa grew up in, to the adventurous spirit my late friend Kappel held in his smile... it remains true that all things given the chance are beautiful, even passing things, even the quiet.
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