kodak kinda thing

90s sprinklers

We’re too far away from the pools.
Mum unfolds the sprinkler in the backyard and lets us play in the water.
My brother loves this shit.
He squeals with delight and makes sure I watch his latest Street Fighter moves.
Hee-yaa!

It’s hot with a cool breeze, the only way Melbourne summer can get, up and down like a bipolar off meds.
I feel the warm mud under my feet, I play with it between my toes.
Squish, squish.

“Liza, I just did it for you!”
I turn to appease my brother, “Ok, do it again.”
How’s mum going to get this wet grass off the floor inside?
My brother karate chops the water in midair, “Did you see that?” he screams.
“Awesome stuff!” I tell him.

Somewhere around there…
I know I will remember this moment.
I know it’s going to be a Kodak kinda thing.
I know it’ll warm my heart later in life.

My dog stops to sniff a sprawling plant taking up way too much space on the sidewalk.
I’m judging the house owner when suddenly –
I hear the sprinkler and turn around like you would an old friend calling you from down the street.
There it is oscillating from left to right, 80s eat your heart out!
And just like that…
I see my brother’s karate moves, I hear his squeals, I feel the mud between my toes.

 

a whisper

Going Down Short Film

This is us.
Artists, exhaustively keeping the dream alive.
Alive. A life.
We whisper, “This film has life.”

This is tremendous preparation.
This is sleepless nights, juggling balls in air (do not drop), taking the first step into mystery.

Light candles for the Creative Gods.
Say thanks every day.
Sun up or down, do something that scares the living shit outta you.
Thank your skilled Giants.

If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants.
– Sir. Isaac Newton

first meet

first meet

I can hear my heart beating.
I can hear myself laughing at his jokes.
I can smell the curly fries from Jack in the Box as we walk to my house
I can feel our hands shaking, as if we were very nervous.
Oh, wait… we are.
It’s the first time he’s coming over for dinner with my family.
I open the gate to my house, slowly and lead him in.
As I slam the gate, leaves fall down from the tree as if like snow; but sadly, it doesn’t snow in LA.
We stop and turn to each other when we arrive at the door.
I can hear my breathing.
I can feel him shaking.
I look into his eyes and say to him, “Ready?”
From where we’re standing I can hear them laughing from the other side of the door.
I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine.
I pen the door, as I walk in first.
I smell the sweet apples that are in the basket beside the entrance.
And it started with a “hello.”

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First Meet by Angela Hernandez from Before There Were Bars, POPS The Club

let the plates fall

We have trained ourselves to be so afraid of possibly doing something the “wrong way.” We actually think it’s death to ourselves if something doesn’t go the way our mind hopes or expects it should go.

The real problem is not that we can’t get our circumstances to go the right way… it’s that we think there IS a right way, or that there is anything we can actually lose.

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Kyle Cease