‘Art for Charity’ venture went really well. The exhibition was on Sunday, and two wonderful people bought my art in support of Oxfam. Hooray for that, because as an artist/writer I’m obviously not in a position to donate that amount out of pocket.
These are the two pieces that sold:
And now, onto the next project I’ve secretly worked on the last month and a half. My first short comedy!
I made ‘The Usual Hunt‘ for the My RODE Reel competition which offers film gear for winners. And won’t lie, I really want to win, at least the Public Choice category. So here is the link for you to watch the film on YouTube, and the voting gets activated for you within the next 24 hours.
Please watch the film. It’s only 3 min long, and it’s fun. I would really appreciate it if you guys could vote for it?
And tell me what you thought if the film! 🙂
Incase the link above doesn’t work, here is the URL:
‘In all seriousness,
what’s a meatloaf?’ He yelled
watching her back as she disappeared
around the bend, and he was amongst a crowd
who stared at him with are-you-serious glares.
Yes, he deemed them glares,
as if he had cried out something foul,
something so God-awful that he felt
in that moment, ostracised by society,
neigh, all humanity.
Yet, a voice in the corner of his mind knocked loudly,
there were many a people, in many a nations,
who would sympathise with him dearly.
After all, what really was a meatloaf,
if not loaf with meat in it?
Scratching his head, he brought out his phone,
and upon it he texted, nay pleaded for mercy,
‘Then I won’t tell you what a…’
he thought for a moment, trying to jog memory
searching in his foodie vocabulary, for a dish daring.
‘Then I won’t tell you what a Writer’s tears is!’ he pounded the keys
Gloating, ever so slightly.
For sure, she’d have a hard time of this.
A message binged and he read, his face dropping.
‘You’re not seriously asking, are you? ‘Cause I’ll finish the rest of the bottle for you.’
He clenched his jaws tight. She had not yielded
no, not like his fantasy.
‘You suck at this!’
She messaged back promptly,
‘At least I’m not the one wondering, what the hell meatloaf is!’
And he could hear the laughter in each word, and cringed.
Now he’d have to Google it.
(I cracked myself up writing this! It was inspired, would you believe it or not.)
A wound caused by falling on gravel.
A nasty hit on the side of the head.
Suffice to say, I’ve had a very interesting week leading up to this post. I mean, that’s my hand and my face there!
OMG! Is that what you’re thinking?! NO, no, no need to be alarmed. I wasn’t mugged or bashed, nor was I in an accident or took a fall on any gravel.
These are photos to show some SFX makeup works that can be done with very few things on hand. In fact, right now, I’m in last phase of pre-production for my short film, The Circle, and I’ve been making some of these videos on how-to.
If you are curious how I did these effects, check out the video on YouTube. (Please beware: the images may be too graphic for some).
And if you’d like to pledge your support to help me make this film as best I can without compromising on the look of it, please go to my Pozible site and donate as little as AUS$5.
The target amount I need to raise is $2500. At the moment, we are sitting on $1120 with 32 days to go. Fingers crossed I can raise this amount and bring you all a very entertaining and suspense film. 🙂
Thank you once again! Have a great week ahead, and I can’t wait to bring you some snippets of our shoot this coming weekend. Stay tuned and follow us on our facebook, or pledge to our campaign.
He sat there in gloom
covered in soot from head to toe
his nice suit marred and slightly charred,
what he set out to do
and ended up happening.
He eyed his watch, almost 12:15
in the night that is,
and she would be here shortly
tired from her trip, and perhaps hungry
and what a brilliant moment that had been
when the idea had struck him like gold
that he should make a romantic dinner for her
crack open a bottle of sparkling wine
and douse her exhaustion in music sublime.
How ever did that idea turn to this
with him sitting sooty and coughing
between the smoldering remains of a house that was
before his culinary skills brought it to the ground
leaving all but the sky above peering down.
That’s when he saw the headlights of her car
pull a corner and slow down
obviously in shock at the sight, no doubt.
He could almost see the frown that may be on her face
and wondered however he would ever live this down.
He rose slowly from the belly of the kitchen,
or what was left of it,
and heard the ding of oven bell
– perfect timing
at least the chicken was done!
She rushed onto the street
her eyes gazing over her watch on wrist, frequently
and almost, from the moment she stepped onto the asphalt
she came to a halt before a speeding car
and both screeched!
‘Watch the traffic, you crazy loon!’ said the driver, and angrily drove away.
Hazel glared and took a step back, today was not a day to die
or even end up hospitalized.
She glanced once more at the ticking time
peering for a taxi amongst passing wheels
and stuck her hand out at every yellow, white and silver with a sign.
She was running late, so very late obviously!
and before long she was madly flapping her arms tirelessly
one finally came to a stop briefly and she slipped in.
When she arrived at her destination, she stared up
at the sign and wondered if she had heard right.
She went in and waited outside the fancy restaurant
nervous and clicking her heels.
Her first date in over a year,
she only hoped she dressed properly.
The glances at her watch revealed more and more
that perhaps her date wasn’t turning up anymore.
Eventually she walked up to the counter and queried the maître d
if she was even on the list.
‘No, ma’am, your name is not on here.’
Hazel’s face flushed and she fumbled for words.
‘Are you sure?’
Maître d checked again, flipping a page or two,
‘Nope, not here. Though there is a reservation for two
under your date’s name for tomorrow.’
Hazel smiled wryly, ‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes ma’am, tomorrow.’
Hazel bit her lip, she felt absolutely silly.
How could she come back tomorrow and not look so?
‘I think I mixed up the dates, huh?’ She said in a hush.
The maitre d nodded and warmly smiled,
‘We will see you tomorrow then I believe.’
Hazel nodded, thanked and walked away.
‘Oh miss,’ she turned around again, ‘I’ll have the best table set aside for you.’
Hazel smiled and nodded, and quietly stepped back out onto the street
and waited for a cab again.
My ‘Glory’ days – Part 2
With such desperate luck
I hung on
to one tiny fact
she could not and would not escape me
not a second time,
so I crossed the road and told Jo
‘Keep bringing the darn coffee’
I would wait to see her little head
then I would pounce
the tiger in me proud
at falling my prey
and what a prey would she make.
I dared not look at the clock
for fear of seeing how foolish I was being
so I sat there drinking and dreaming
practicing lines to woo and swoon her
straight of her heeled feet
and when she did reemerge
from the limestones building
I pranced ever Kingly
gaze riveted upon her form.
‘Remember me,’ I slipped in behind her
into the car at the ready.
‘Get out!’ She cried most offended and angry
and more huffs and puffs were thrown behind me,
‘What the hell are you doing?’ she narrowed her eyes.
‘Asking you out?’ I smiled – grinning, actually.
Her brows rose questioningly,
‘This is how you ask a girl out?’
I grinned wider, ‘I don’t usually do the asking out, babe.’
She laughed shortly, ‘I can see why!’
and I thought finally!
‘You are absolutely horrible at it,’ she proclaimed loudly.
I could feel a burn under my collar,
it was getting hot in there,
so I simply said, as the cries grew louder outside,
‘Say yes and I’ll leave,’ and made myself comfortable to say the least.
You want to know what she said to this?
(I’m having so much writing this series of poems on poor old Kate. Here is Part 4 for those who are following her love journey. Thanks guys, ‘Like’ if you like it!) 🙂
KATE THE CUPID -Part 4
Kate woke to the incessant ring
she grabbed her phone and peered angrily
why couldn’t Matthew have done this
felt a desperate need to speak with her
why was it that it took Kate to up and leave
for him to miss her dearly?
It had been weeks since she last spoken to him
had she tortured him enough
or maybe it wasn’t for her he was ringing
maybe it was Sienna, Tianna, or Roxy whatever
and she was the punch bag he would see?
It was well in the middle if the night
so she let the phone ring
and buried her face under the pillow.
She had a great evening, hadn’t she,
a wonderful date with a charmer if one she had ever met?
Then why did her mind keep floating back to Matt?
‘Shut up’ she mumbled and crumbled
the phone was ringing again.
‘Pick up, pick up, Kate!’ he desperately whispered
keeping a peering pair of eyes at the dark corridor
or the closed bedroom door.
‘Pick up, please!’
But the phone sang mockingly back at him.
In frustration he tried thrice more
to only be heart broken and forlorn.
He slunk back to the room
back to the bed
where on it lay a sleeping fiancé,
then why was it that he could not think
of anyone other than poor old Kate?