Um, you're wrong.

I was hanging out on North Campus waiting for the bus (when my friends come out and want to see something "uniquely Michigan," I take them to North Campus. It's where the wild animals and engineering students live.), perusing the posters plastered to the bus shelter. North Campus is also home to the theatre and music schools, so they usually have a lot more interesting posters than the Central Campus bus stops. I was reading one poster for some performance art show when I noticed a hand written note on the top of the poster. The Sharpie-d note said something roughly along the lines of, "Art is not for your personal commentary."

I thought about this, because I'm an open-minded university student, and decided that this person was wrong. I believe it's impossible to create art totally devoid of any commentary on its subject. If you haven't created your art to say something, then what have you created it for? Just for aesthetic beauty? Even that is a commentary on the way that you believe life and experience should be interpreted - that life, or in this case art, should be aesthetically pleasing.

Nothing that I've created has been devoid of commentary (excepting, maybe, the stories I wrote about magical ponies when I was six. But even then...). "The 4:05" commented on the nature of love and friendship. "Collapse" commented on death, grief, and forgiveness. "Join This Group?" focused on the ridiculous impact of Facebook. I feel like every story, every sculpture, every film, every blog, comments in some way on life, relationships, experience - at the very least. Some have more focused intentions. And I'm not talking just about Sicko or W.

You can't create art without commentary because of the nature of creation. Art is a physical marker of the presence of a maker. Creation suggestions a purpose, a plan, a design, and it encourages a certain perspective. And I guess I just can't fathom a situation in which the maker's art has no reflection of their plans or their purpose. If there's nothing to be said, then why create at all?

Tales of a Student Producer, Part 4

The film I was coproducing wrapped two weeks ago while I was abroad for spring break. Now all I have to do is record some budget stuff, plan the wrap party, and distribute DVDs in a couple of months.

I caught up with the director during our screenwriting class the week after spring break to see how the shoots went. Apparently they were crazy. They had limited time, a lack of actors and crew, and completely modified shots. I always felt a little badly when we had to modify something. You have to be flexible on a film shoot, but there is a line that you can cross that sacrifices the integrity of the film, and I was always concerned that the demands for flexibility would force the director to make choices she didn't want. I think that filming anything is a huge accomplishment, but I think that this film will turn out great and will update when I see the finished product.

One of the things we talked about is how the finished product never matches what we imagine. I think it's a struggle every artist goes through, the moment the realize that nothing they ever produce will be as good as what they envisioned. It's really discouraging at first. My stories are never as good as they are when I'm working them out in my head. It's like failing every time you go to work. I think that it's something every artist has to make peace with if they're actually going to make art a life-long pursuit. But just because you it seems like you'll never reach your ideal doesn't mean that you don't closer and closer each time you pick up a camera or sit down at your computer or mix your paints. And just because I'm probably never going to get to the level of emotional, intellectual, crafted brilliance I desire in my stories doesn't mean I'm not going to get pretty darn close sometime. Perfection isn't the result of genius (at least not for me). Perfection is the result of hard work. And with that in mind, I can reconcile my ideal with the result a whole lot more easily.

It just sucks for everyone else, because you will never know how good the story actually is. : )

"I promise you I will learn from my mistakes"

Facebook has a ridiculous number of applications now. Like really, it's getting a bit obscene. But one of the great things it does is let you stalk every single move your friends make. One of my friends posted a link to the video of "Fix You" by Coldplay and added the simple comment "World Peace."

I'm a big Coldplay fan, and I don't really think of world peace when I think of them, but I hadn't heard the song in a while (silly computer being dead and all), so I went ahead and clicked on the video. Not only is the song brilliant and amazing, but at the end of the "Fix You" video they have footage from a live concert. Dear H.D. has gone to a Coldplay concert and described this moment for me, and how everyone's just bawling. Just watching the video stirs emotions.

Then a few weeks later I got to go to a Switchfoot/Relient K concert. Really, music blows me away sometimes. Being in an auditorium with hundreds of other people, all singing along to songs that have integral meaning to each of us, is an incredible experience. I think art is often considered a luxury. It serves no functional purpose. It's subjective. It's often manipulated to conform to commercial whims. But when you go to a concert, when you read a book so often its binding breaks, when you find yourself watching the same movie over and over again, it's impossible to image life without art. The expression, the connection, the transformation that is possible. I don't think I'm an idealist when it comes to the influence of art. I just think that too often, we don't even realize how much we depend on it. You don't believe me, go play some of your favourite songs. I doubt that you like them because of their clever lyrics or because of their musical genius. I bet you like them because they connect to your life in some way. A personal connection like that, isn't that one of the most powerful connections of all?

"Nobody said it was easy; nobody said it would be this hard."

Welcome to the Twilight Zone

Things have been going awry here in the space/time continuum. For one, October was a lot shorter than a month. I feel like I went to bed one night and woke up and it was Halloween - and I don't even sleep that much! Not only that, but the physical area of this town has been slowly stretching. It now takes me 1.5x the amount of time to get to the USB as it did at the beginning of the year. If I didn't have to walk there so ridiculously much it wouldn't be such a big deal... *grumblegrumblegrumble*

So, apparently, what I've heard is, where I go to school, well, it's kind of a big deal. In the top twenty five in the nation or something. So how is it that Monday night I can collapse exhausted on my bed, get a power nap at midnight, drag myself up again at 1:30 to wrangle together a response essay for a lit class on John Milton's freakin Paradise Lost, and get a response back from my professor the next day that it was an "excellent response" and that it's good enough for me to consider turning into my term paper.

Shouldn't people be expecting more of me than this??

Why Our Brilliant B-School is the Fault of High School English Classes Everywhere

I knew this trend existed, I did, but I feel like I've seen it manifested a little bit more recently. People picking majors based on what careers will get them the six figures, figuring out specialties based not on what they enjoy but on which has the slightly bigger paycheck. Really? Really, people?

Don't your high school English teachers make you read Death of a Salesman?

My esteemed friend H. D. Martin said once that she wants to write for the "middle class crap." And if you're carefully watching, you can see exactly what she means. Most of your friends are probably missing out on their lives, and they don't even know it. Art is one of those things that tries to wake people up, point out questions and problems, study dilemmas, not often give answers but at least gets you thinking. The thing is, I'm not sure many people have spent time thinking about their lives in relation to their careers. And just why is it so important to be making the most amount of money in your field as possible. Everybody's chasing the American Dream now but maybe someone's forgotten to get some real sleep on it.

I am not a huge fan of Death of a Salesman. I find it long and tedious. It really hits you over the head. Which is why high school counselors should make everyone of their students read it as part of the college application process. And then write a two page response paper about it.

I've been ruminating on this because I had an idea for a screenplay about a young man who has the commendable middle class lifestyle but goes through several life changes about how that's not enough (cheesy in one sentence like that, yes, and without half the plot). It's a "coming of age" story in a different sense, in a sense when someone realizes that their B-school diploma is just a plaque on the wall. As I was thinking about this, realizing that it has so many themes of the tedious Death of a Salesman, I had to wonder if we needed another, reinvented Death.

The sad thing? I think we do. Maybe the B-school does need another prerequisite course in their major: "Your Career and how Art has deconstructed the myth that it will lead you to Happiness." A cumbersome course title? Maybe. But appropriate? I think so.

"Listen to this song - it will change your life, I swear."

I was talking to a friend a couple weeks ago, about my major and what I'm going to do after college, and I said something to the effect that I wanted to make movies that changed people's lives. And his reaction, well, it was almost like disbelief. I know that not everyone holds the view that film can be art. Lots of people think that it's just entertainment (the most powerful entertainment industry right now, but...). But I felt a little shocked, not only that my friend had never been moved by a film to the point where it helped shape his life, but that he seemed to think I was naive for believing so.

I have my doubts about this career. It seems pretty selfish sometimes. I have friends who are going to be doctors and nurses and missionaries, and I'm going to go play around in pretend worlds. But then I remember reading something in Surprised by Joy by C.S. Lewis, which is basically his spiritual autobiography. I don't remember what the exact passage is (even after trying to go back and find it several times), but he talks about how he was prepared for his conversion to Christian through all the books he had read, the ancient pagan myths and fairy tales alike, how his "imagination was, in a certain sense, baptized; the rest of me, not unnaturally, took longer." One of the greatest Christian thinkers of all times was prepared for his faith through the stories he heard.

I'm in love with the movie Stranger than Fiction. I've seen it three times already and I'm planning on buying it once I have a chance to get a cheap copy. I was watching it last night with about ten other people, and I realized that a writer and a filmmaker, the movie resonates differently with me. Kay Eiffel is a writer, and she wants to write the most amazing masterpiece of a book ever. Every writer wants to write a masterpiece. But there comes a time when she has to choose between her finishing masterpiece and therefore killing someone or changing the end of her book to save a life. And in the end she has a beautiful quote when replying to a professor about her book:

"[I]t's a book about a man who doesn't know he's about to die. And then dies. But if a man does know he's about to die and dies anyway. Dies- dies willingly, knowing that he could stop it, then- I mean, isn't that the type of man who you want to keep alive? "

If every movie I ever wrote was based on this core idea, I would be happy. If every movie I ever wrote was about love and sacrifice, the beauty in life inspite of the pain, the hope, friendship, family that redeems our lives, I would never regret picking this selfish career. If a movie can open a person's eyes up to the love in life and inspire them to actually live, isn't it worth three years of my life and eight of their dollars? Film has so much potential to show life as it is and as it should be. Imagine if the film industry became an industry that produced movies that had a real purpose. What if the industry could spread hope?

I know my life has been shaped by movies. Art restores my faith in people. When you get a chance to see truth, in no matter what form, you can't just ignore it. It would just be nice to know if other people felt the same way too.

Has anyone had a movie change their life?

"I brought you flours."

Harold Crick: Dave, can I pose a somewhat abstract, purely hypothetical question?
Dave: Sure.
Harold Crick: If you knew you were gonna die, possibly soon, what would you do?
Dave: Wow, I don't know. Am I the richest man in the world?
Harold Crick: No, you're you.
Dave: Do I have a superpower?
Harold Crick: No, you're *you*.
Dave: I know I'm me, but do I have a superpower?
Harold Crick: No, why would you have a superpower?
Dave: I don't know, you said it was hypothetical.
Harold Crick: Fine, yes, you're really good at math.
Dave: That's not a power, that's a skill.
Harold Crick: Okay, you're good at math and you're invisible. And you know you're gonna die.
Dave: Okay, okay. That's easy, I'd go to space camp.
Harold Crick: Space camp?
Dave: Yeah, it's in Alabama. It's where kids go to learn how to become astronauts. I've always wanted to go since I was nine.
Harold Crick: You're invisible and you'd go to space camp?
Dave: I didn't pick invisible, you picked invisible.
Harold Crick: Aren't you too old to go to space camp?
Dave: You're *never* too old to go to space camp, dude.

- Stranger than Fiction