I had a pretty uneventful screening at Clemson last night. Nice theatre, small crowd, decent projection... I suppose I ran out of things to say, and the audience didn't have much to say either. I just sort of stared out at them, and they stared back at me. I think we all knew it was over. I went out for beers with some of the Clemson people, who are great, then forgot my bag in Amy and Johnathan's car. I suppose if there were ever a time to do something like that, now is the time. I just got Michelle out the door, and I'm waiting for my bag to return. Then, it's off home.
So that's it. It's been an interesting tour of the "new south".... so many people I've met along the way doing these things are transplants from other parts of the country. Plenty of confederate flags, several billboard messages about Armageddon, an endless variety of fried food... all the usual suspects were in place. But in the end, the whole thing seemed much more personal than blogworthy. I'll probably remember the sensations of the trip more than the actual events.
So thanks. Thanks to David and everyone at South Arts who does so much work to make this happen. Thanks to all the sponsors of the various shows, the organizations putting on the shows, the people running the venues, the audiences coming to see my work. You've all been absolutely inspired. And yes, thanks to whoever out there read this blog. I've never experimented with the form before, and I'm sure the omissions are more obvious than the words, but I suppose that's the nature of this sort of tour. Again, thanks. I've met so many great people doing fascinating things, and I do feel like this trip was as much about me becoming aware of what's going on in these towns as it is about me showing my own work. If I've met you along the way, stay in touch!
until then, it seems that Roger Beebe is off and running....
Eric
Showing posts with label Eric Patrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eric Patrick. Show all posts
Friday, September 14, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
My shifting history....
Asheville was surprisingly uneventful. The only apparent publicity was an email blast and a couple of posters. The contact I had couldn't make the screening and sent someone in her place. He was very nice, but also couldn't stay for the whole screening. I only had 8 people in the audience, but they were a nice group. I sold 2 DVDs. The manager of the theatre was very kind, and Michelle and I had a great talk with a few of the local filmmaking crowd.
Later in the evening, I had a blast with my sister. She informed me that my last name (Patrick) isn't Irish, but rather German... It was originally Fitzpatrick. It was a perfect bomb to drop on me during this increasingly personal journey that Southern Circuit has become. All my life I assumed that it was Irish. Now I feel my lifelong affinity with Saint Patrick, James Joyce, and all things Irish draining away.
Goodbye Jonathan Swift, Hello Goethe. Very weird.
I go to Clemson tonight, then home tomorrow.
Eric
Later in the evening, I had a blast with my sister. She informed me that my last name (Patrick) isn't Irish, but rather German... It was originally Fitzpatrick. It was a perfect bomb to drop on me during this increasingly personal journey that Southern Circuit has become. All my life I assumed that it was Irish. Now I feel my lifelong affinity with Saint Patrick, James Joyce, and all things Irish draining away.
Goodbye Jonathan Swift, Hello Goethe. Very weird.
I go to Clemson tonight, then home tomorrow.
Eric
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Which statement uses faulty logic?
1. Last night in Jackson, MS, a bartender shook my hand when I arrived at the bar. I’ve never had that happen before.
2. I like Johnny Cash .
3. I picked up a hitchhiker today. Randy. I got him in Birmingham and brought him to Atlanta. He was going to work with a relative in construction.
4. Randy had good teeth and a guitar. Someone once told me that I should only pick up hitchhikers with good teeth. I'm not sure why, but I admit I've never picked up someone with bad teeth.
5. During my almost 10 hour drive today, I drove through 6 or 7 bands of rain that were all torrential. Each band lasted less than ten minutes, then was followed by blue skys.
6. I used 120 minutes of my 350 minute cell phone rate plan today.
7. The cell phone is a bad medium for philosophy.
8. I think the cabin is fantastic. Spacious with a hot tub in back, drinks in the fridge, impeccably decorated: Asheville cozy cabins
9. This is the first time I’ve been in a log cabin.
10. After arriving, I went to a biker bar near my cabin.
11. I had a short conversation with someone I couldn’t see on the other side of a bamboo shade on the back porch of my cabin.
12. The caretaker of the cabin told me not to smoke in the cabin six times in the less than ten minutes she was showing me around.
That’s it. At this point, the tour has taken on a blurry quality. Enigmatic moments are happening almost constantly.. It’s a strange mix of observances, feelings, and serendipity, leading me to believe that I can’t really capture the experience in this format (at least in the time I have to spend on it). Maybe tomorrow will bring some focus. My sister arrives, and I’ll try to find a wireless place to post this. Asheville tomorrow.
Eric
2. I like Johnny Cash .
3. I picked up a hitchhiker today. Randy. I got him in Birmingham and brought him to Atlanta. He was going to work with a relative in construction.
4. Randy had good teeth and a guitar. Someone once told me that I should only pick up hitchhikers with good teeth. I'm not sure why, but I admit I've never picked up someone with bad teeth.
5. During my almost 10 hour drive today, I drove through 6 or 7 bands of rain that were all torrential. Each band lasted less than ten minutes, then was followed by blue skys.
6. I used 120 minutes of my 350 minute cell phone rate plan today.
7. The cell phone is a bad medium for philosophy.
8. I think the cabin is fantastic. Spacious with a hot tub in back, drinks in the fridge, impeccably decorated: Asheville cozy cabins
9. This is the first time I’ve been in a log cabin.
10. After arriving, I went to a biker bar near my cabin.
11. I had a short conversation with someone I couldn’t see on the other side of a bamboo shade on the back porch of my cabin.
12. The caretaker of the cabin told me not to smoke in the cabin six times in the less than ten minutes she was showing me around.
That’s it. At this point, the tour has taken on a blurry quality. Enigmatic moments are happening almost constantly.. It’s a strange mix of observances, feelings, and serendipity, leading me to believe that I can’t really capture the experience in this format (at least in the time I have to spend on it). Maybe tomorrow will bring some focus. My sister arrives, and I’ll try to find a wireless place to post this. Asheville tomorrow.
Eric
Monday, September 10, 2007
Someone tried to break into my room at 4AM.
Thankfully, I had all the locks in place. I startled awake and said "What the Fuck!!" in the best angry southern accent I have. It had to be someone associated with the hotel because they opened the door a little (which can only be opened with a key). I slept for several more hours, but once I got up, I just wanted to leave. I waited to shower until I had made the three hour drive to Jackson.
That's the great thing about this trip. It's a cascade of images, personal feelings, strange little voodoo moments, and cultural observations.
The other fascinating thing about Southern Circuit is the range of situations. Some people clap between the films, some only clap at the end. Some raise their hands to ask questions, some just shout them out. There are endless variations in how the different crowds create their own social cues. In that way, it's an interesting study in how to work with crowd dynamics.
I've also shown my work to a wide variety of people. I've had conversations with everyone from artists, college students and curators to pipe-fitters, secretaries and even a guy who raises cows. The question and answer period is different in every place. Each crowd focuses on one angle of the films: technique, concept, aesthetics, psychology, etc. It's been a really great way for me to study how to frame my films to different populations. Sometimes stories are good, sometimes it's semiotics, sometimes it's just as simple as describing techniques.
I showed my work to Millsaps College tonight, got rid of two more DVDs and several people came up to look at the art work from Stark Film. I didn't feel that I had much energy going into it, but thankfully the films look relatively the same each time, so on some level, it doesn't matter what I say.
Tomorrow, I'm going to drive all the way to Asheville, NC, where I've rented a little log cabin outside of town for two nights (everything has been one night per stop as of yet). My screening there is Wednesday, then I'll leave Th AM for Clemson, SC. I'm not sure what the internet situation will be, so there may be a break in posts until I'm hooked up again.
Eric
That's the great thing about this trip. It's a cascade of images, personal feelings, strange little voodoo moments, and cultural observations.
The other fascinating thing about Southern Circuit is the range of situations. Some people clap between the films, some only clap at the end. Some raise their hands to ask questions, some just shout them out. There are endless variations in how the different crowds create their own social cues. In that way, it's an interesting study in how to work with crowd dynamics.
I've also shown my work to a wide variety of people. I've had conversations with everyone from artists, college students and curators to pipe-fitters, secretaries and even a guy who raises cows. The question and answer period is different in every place. Each crowd focuses on one angle of the films: technique, concept, aesthetics, psychology, etc. It's been a really great way for me to study how to frame my films to different populations. Sometimes stories are good, sometimes it's semiotics, sometimes it's just as simple as describing techniques.
I showed my work to Millsaps College tonight, got rid of two more DVDs and several people came up to look at the art work from Stark Film. I didn't feel that I had much energy going into it, but thankfully the films look relatively the same each time, so on some level, it doesn't matter what I say.
Tomorrow, I'm going to drive all the way to Asheville, NC, where I've rented a little log cabin outside of town for two nights (everything has been one night per stop as of yet). My screening there is Wednesday, then I'll leave Th AM for Clemson, SC. I'm not sure what the internet situation will be, so there may be a break in posts until I'm hooked up again.
Eric
three more shows....
I slept in Baton Rouge at kind of a crummy cheap hotel, and will be driving to Jackson, MS soon. As it turns out, I have Tuesday off since my TN date was canceled. I just looked into mountain cabins in Asheville. If I can get a decent one, I think I may drive all the way to Asheville tomorrow. It would be nice to have two nights in one place... take a little mountain hike, hang around Asheville and catch up on sleep. Two of my last three screenings are at Universities, so I'm interested to see what the students are like.
Eric
Eric
Sunday, September 09, 2007
The South sets in.
Generally, I don’t have much to say about the last 25 hours. It was intensely personal, and I don’t even know how to articulate it. It would probably be better conveyed by banging rocks together.
The show though, was great. Beautiful place, great people. The woman from the Art and Humanities council drove 60 miles round trip to bring me shrimp gumbo and boudin (knowing I was from here). They sang happy birthday to me, and all was great. The local film group (that co-sponsored the show) was inspired. The Lake Area Film Group are a rag-tag group of filmmakers trying to make something happen in a town where there isn’t an awful lot going on. They’re very gutsy filmmakers and remind me of early Cinemaker Cooperative in Austin.
I came to Port Arthur after the screening, and I’m still here. I’m trying to decide how far I can get so that I don’t have a full day of driving tomorrow. Perhaps New Orleans just isn’t in the cards. I once again feel myself being sucked into the place, and should probably start moving. Then… Milsaps College in Jackson, MS.
Eric
The show though, was great. Beautiful place, great people. The woman from the Art and Humanities council drove 60 miles round trip to bring me shrimp gumbo and boudin (knowing I was from here). They sang happy birthday to me, and all was great. The local film group (that co-sponsored the show) was inspired. The Lake Area Film Group are a rag-tag group of filmmakers trying to make something happen in a town where there isn’t an awful lot going on. They’re very gutsy filmmakers and remind me of early Cinemaker Cooperative in Austin.
I came to Port Arthur after the screening, and I’m still here. I’m trying to decide how far I can get so that I don’t have a full day of driving tomorrow. Perhaps New Orleans just isn’t in the cards. I once again feel myself being sucked into the place, and should probably start moving. Then… Milsaps College in Jackson, MS.
Eric
Saturday, September 08, 2007
“Boring” as social construct
Last night, I had a good projection and the largest crowd so far. They were pretty silent through most of it, which made me wonder a bit. At the end, I opened it up for questions, and an old guy a few rows back told me that I had mentioned the desert Southwest for “Stark Film” but he didn’t see it in the film. I mentioned that much of the film pieces were shot in the Mojave desert and at Joshua Tree to which he replied “The Mojave isn’t a real desert.” He then proceeded to tell me that I had mentioned that David Echelard was an early music composer, but that the music for “Roothold” was some sort of Jazz (which it is sooo not). I tried to remind him that I had become attracted to a piece of Echelard’s that was different… with him playing the hurdy gurdy.
When he first started talking, many people in the audience started laughing, likely from his obtuse (by his own admission) line of questioning. I must have made him mad by telling him that he had latched onto certain words I said without taking in the overall context of my introductions. He then told me that this work was all about technique and he really found the whole thing quite boring. The statement would seem to suggest that most major art movements of the 20th century are all about technique (at least, if you looked at them without a degree in art history). Leaving aside the fact that I disagree with him about my work being “all about technique,” if we accept this argument, then Cubism would be all about technique, which I’m sure some would argue is exactly the case. But I doubt many of us would question the worth of cubism.
No, actually, the far more interesting thing that he said was that he found it boring. I’m really fascinated by this concept of “boring” because it seems to imply a need to be entertained. I can’t recall having the experience of being bored by a painting, because a painting doesn’t exist in time. It is “one without a second.” We become bored by time…. Television, certain kinds of music, the boring professor, etc. Further, boring is a fascinating state of consciousness. I’m interested in what makes us bored, how to be bored compares to being sleepy, being drunk, being in a trance. Perhaps it’s the inversion of trance. Where one becomes acutely aware of everything surrounding them to the point of it becoming painful.
Of course, I also think it suggests that we are refusing intellectually to engage with what it is we’re experiencing, and unfortunately, I think that was exactly the case with this loveable old curmudgeon.
After that, I had many beautiful and very flattering compliments and sold several DVDs of my work… I hope they didn’t think I took it personally? A great crowd all in all.
Quickly then (the plane is calling): Summerville was a moment, though not a special one. I’m born there, but I’m actually from somewhere else-- a contradiction that I’ve never been able to rectify. Today, my birthday, and off to Lake Charles, then a 45 minute drive to spend the night back with my mom in the place that my ancestors and I are really from-- Port Arthur, TX
Eric
When he first started talking, many people in the audience started laughing, likely from his obtuse (by his own admission) line of questioning. I must have made him mad by telling him that he had latched onto certain words I said without taking in the overall context of my introductions. He then told me that this work was all about technique and he really found the whole thing quite boring. The statement would seem to suggest that most major art movements of the 20th century are all about technique (at least, if you looked at them without a degree in art history). Leaving aside the fact that I disagree with him about my work being “all about technique,” if we accept this argument, then Cubism would be all about technique, which I’m sure some would argue is exactly the case. But I doubt many of us would question the worth of cubism.
No, actually, the far more interesting thing that he said was that he found it boring. I’m really fascinated by this concept of “boring” because it seems to imply a need to be entertained. I can’t recall having the experience of being bored by a painting, because a painting doesn’t exist in time. It is “one without a second.” We become bored by time…. Television, certain kinds of music, the boring professor, etc. Further, boring is a fascinating state of consciousness. I’m interested in what makes us bored, how to be bored compares to being sleepy, being drunk, being in a trance. Perhaps it’s the inversion of trance. Where one becomes acutely aware of everything surrounding them to the point of it becoming painful.
Of course, I also think it suggests that we are refusing intellectually to engage with what it is we’re experiencing, and unfortunately, I think that was exactly the case with this loveable old curmudgeon.
After that, I had many beautiful and very flattering compliments and sold several DVDs of my work… I hope they didn’t think I took it personally? A great crowd all in all.
Quickly then (the plane is calling): Summerville was a moment, though not a special one. I’m born there, but I’m actually from somewhere else-- a contradiction that I’ve never been able to rectify. Today, my birthday, and off to Lake Charles, then a 45 minute drive to spend the night back with my mom in the place that my ancestors and I are really from-- Port Arthur, TX
Eric
Thursday, September 06, 2007
my life in airports
Last night, I paid $24 for an inedible pizza through room service… this morning, $30 for a big breakfast that I asked to be delivered at 7am (they arrived at 6:45am). I woke up early to give myself plenty of time to get showered, packed, and to the airport, and as it turns out, I needed every second of it. My directions sent me to some lonely National car rental lot with wrecked cars far from the airport. On arriving, my carry on bag was searched and determined to be a threat to airline security because I had a non-solid substance in excess of 3 ounces that wasn’t hermetically sealed inside a 1 quart zip lock sandwich bag. Those sandwich bag makers must be very happy. I’m not. It just goes to show what a ruse these rules are… I carried on the exact same bag on my flight from Chicago and Greensboro. That’s two out of three times that they missed the deadly gel.
I remember right before September 11, I flew from Austin to Los Angeles to work on some puppet animation with a couple of friends. In my bag, I had two ten pound blocks of modeling clay, floral wire, many metal clay sculpting tools, a box of one hundred razors, and various other things that in this climate would look like I was going to spend my time on the plane actually creating a bomb. The poor guy at security who saw all this said into his radio something to the effect of: “I’ve got a Red 476, Red 476!” About 8 security guys came running with hands on their guns. Once I explained what I was doing, they lightened up and just told me to check the bag. If that happened now, I would probably be stripped searched and put on the no-fly list. My how things have changed.
Yesterday I was leaving Greensboro, and logged onto what was apparently a paid wireless network with what was apparently my department head’s T-mobile account (I’m using a borrowed computer from the school). Oops! The Louisville airport doesn’t have free wireless either, which makes the airport in Charlotte all the more appealing with its free wifi. The short of it is I’ll be posting this at some later point when I don’t have pay $9 to do it.
I remember right before September 11, I flew from Austin to Los Angeles to work on some puppet animation with a couple of friends. In my bag, I had two ten pound blocks of modeling clay, floral wire, many metal clay sculpting tools, a box of one hundred razors, and various other things that in this climate would look like I was going to spend my time on the plane actually creating a bomb. The poor guy at security who saw all this said into his radio something to the effect of: “I’ve got a Red 476, Red 476!” About 8 security guys came running with hands on their guns. Once I explained what I was doing, they lightened up and just told me to check the bag. If that happened now, I would probably be stripped searched and put on the no-fly list. My how things have changed.
Yesterday I was leaving Greensboro, and logged onto what was apparently a paid wireless network with what was apparently my department head’s T-mobile account (I’m using a borrowed computer from the school). Oops! The Louisville airport doesn’t have free wireless either, which makes the airport in Charlotte all the more appealing with its free wifi. The short of it is I’ll be posting this at some later point when I don’t have pay $9 to do it.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Insert title here...
Because the experiences are happening so fast, I can’t come up with a title for this post. Over the course of the day, I could have posted with the title “A salad every two days is critical on this tour” or “American airports and why a smile goes a long way” or “The lost art of gumbo” or “Colonel Sanders and Hunter Thompson, and why they are the same” or “my broken button” or “hotel soap and the excitement of invisibility.” The truth is, time passes fast, and I would be better off creating an audio diary than trying to reflect on what is REALLY going on.
I had drinks last night with the Greensboro crew. My friend Laurelyn traded me a copy of her new Polecat Creek CD for a DVD of my work. Justin’s book is due out in the Spring… such great people.
Ironically, I found a similar situation in Louisville. There are these amazing, talented and driven transplants working within the South, and doing very interesting things. I sold 3 DVDs tonight and had another surprisingly good crowd. Tamara from the Bluegrass Independent Film Festival introduced my work (along with a charming piece by a local filmmaker), and the people seemed at least open to the ideas I was giving them. The projection was pretty awful (sound and image), but we switched DVDs for the last film (which played much better).
After the show, I went out with Tom and Dan from the Kentucky Center, and with Scott from Pitch magazine. The whole experience left me in the same state I’ve felt about the South in this country-- confused. Being (officially) from the South has always left me with a love/hate relationship for this part of the country. Louisville has a beautiful downtown with thriving art galleries and shops. Talking to these guys reminded me of that contradiction between the new South and the old. These new southerners are somehow superimposed on the old, which has something to do with my internal conflict about the place. I immediately felt how great it would be to live in a place like this (while at the same time knowing that I’m fickle about these southern towns).
There is a familiarity about the town… always in the back of my head I continue to feel drawn back to this part of the country. I’ve moved back multiple times. Every time I don’t feel heartbroken like I used to when I would give the South “one more chance,” but rather I become agitated and restless. All of these guys I drank with tonight make it a habit to take regular outings to other parts of the country. Perhaps that’s my problem? I’m too much of a homebody?
In any case, I’m off to Hollywood, FL tomorrow. It’s a slow move backwards through my own personal history. It gives my films a certain sort of resonance seeing them in this context, as I’ve avoided using literal experiences from my own upbringing in my work. Still, the images somehow seem to imply this space, even if only between the frames. I doubt the audience sees this, and I'm certainly not going to outline the trail of dead and the hidden skeletons. Better to just leave it alone.
Friday, I’m back where I began… I turn 38 on Friday night in Charleston, SC, the town where I was born but haven’t seen since (my family moved away when I was just a few months old and I’ve never been back). The town both holds the promise of seeing a hidden part of me that even I’m not familiar with, but it also reflects back on how this year started: with the murder of filmmaker Helen Hill in New Orleans (Helen was from Columbia, SC). This will be my first trip back to the state since her funeral. More reflections on the loss and that gripping pain that the South always brings. We'll see...
Eric
I had drinks last night with the Greensboro crew. My friend Laurelyn traded me a copy of her new Polecat Creek CD for a DVD of my work. Justin’s book is due out in the Spring… such great people.
Ironically, I found a similar situation in Louisville. There are these amazing, talented and driven transplants working within the South, and doing very interesting things. I sold 3 DVDs tonight and had another surprisingly good crowd. Tamara from the Bluegrass Independent Film Festival introduced my work (along with a charming piece by a local filmmaker), and the people seemed at least open to the ideas I was giving them. The projection was pretty awful (sound and image), but we switched DVDs for the last film (which played much better).
After the show, I went out with Tom and Dan from the Kentucky Center, and with Scott from Pitch magazine. The whole experience left me in the same state I’ve felt about the South in this country-- confused. Being (officially) from the South has always left me with a love/hate relationship for this part of the country. Louisville has a beautiful downtown with thriving art galleries and shops. Talking to these guys reminded me of that contradiction between the new South and the old. These new southerners are somehow superimposed on the old, which has something to do with my internal conflict about the place. I immediately felt how great it would be to live in a place like this (while at the same time knowing that I’m fickle about these southern towns).
There is a familiarity about the town… always in the back of my head I continue to feel drawn back to this part of the country. I’ve moved back multiple times. Every time I don’t feel heartbroken like I used to when I would give the South “one more chance,” but rather I become agitated and restless. All of these guys I drank with tonight make it a habit to take regular outings to other parts of the country. Perhaps that’s my problem? I’m too much of a homebody?
In any case, I’m off to Hollywood, FL tomorrow. It’s a slow move backwards through my own personal history. It gives my films a certain sort of resonance seeing them in this context, as I’ve avoided using literal experiences from my own upbringing in my work. Still, the images somehow seem to imply this space, even if only between the frames. I doubt the audience sees this, and I'm certainly not going to outline the trail of dead and the hidden skeletons. Better to just leave it alone.
Friday, I’m back where I began… I turn 38 on Friday night in Charleston, SC, the town where I was born but haven’t seen since (my family moved away when I was just a few months old and I’ve never been back). The town both holds the promise of seeing a hidden part of me that even I’m not familiar with, but it also reflects back on how this year started: with the murder of filmmaker Helen Hill in New Orleans (Helen was from Columbia, SC). This will be my first trip back to the state since her funeral. More reflections on the loss and that gripping pain that the South always brings. We'll see...
Eric
starting from the beginning...
High Point was a great show. It was a small/moderate sized crowd, but they were very engaged with the work. I just realized that I may be dealing with many people that don't know much about experimental films. I need to make sure I articulate an easy in for them... a way for them to make sense of what they're looking at. It seems much better to show the works individually... to sort of guide them through it. Still, the management and sponsors were great, the crowd was warm and open to the work, and I had several friends from the area show up (which turned the event into a big family reunion afterwards). Luckily enough, I sold 4 DVDs of my work, including one to the sponsor.... really great crowd.
A little sleep before dawn, then Louisville awaits....
Eric
A little sleep before dawn, then Louisville awaits....
Eric
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
moving backwards
It's amazing how much and how little has changed. I just arrived in Greensboro (where I lived for four years up until June). I had finally felt a little at home here, but coming back I feel like an outsider all over again. The polite distance of the people here always leaves me feeling a little lonely. I drove by my old house to see a fence that the new owner put up. All in all though, it feels very much the same. I'm looking forward to seeing some of my beautiful Greensboro friends and neighbors that give the place such meaning to Jen and I. I'm still not sure who will make it to the screening (or not), but hopefully there will be a couple of pints at McCouls afterwards.
In some way, I'm longing for Saturday.... I arrive in Lake Charles and can forget about the flying. Meanwhile, I fly every day until then, crisscrossing the South as if searching for some relic to give it meaning, or looking for the intangible clues to my own relationship with this part of the country.
I've been looking forward to this trip as a sort of personal journey. Coming to Greensboro so soon after leaving it, then hitting Charleston, SC (where I was born) on my 38th birthday, then off to Lake Charles (the region I grew up in and where my family is from) the next day. It's almost as if I'm moving backwards in time... backwards into my body.... waiting to hit the bone marrow to see what it's made of... a small glimpse of my personal history and a half conscious vision of my ancestry, all in the context of these films that are both a personal history of my subconscious and a fleeting residue of filmic metaphysics.
To that end, I grabbed the novel Ka (about the Hindu gods) on the way out the door as it seemed to be the perfect companion on such a travel through so many ghosts (gone but not forgotten). We'll see how it plays.
The films are screening at 7pm.
Eric
In some way, I'm longing for Saturday.... I arrive in Lake Charles and can forget about the flying. Meanwhile, I fly every day until then, crisscrossing the South as if searching for some relic to give it meaning, or looking for the intangible clues to my own relationship with this part of the country.
I've been looking forward to this trip as a sort of personal journey. Coming to Greensboro so soon after leaving it, then hitting Charleston, SC (where I was born) on my 38th birthday, then off to Lake Charles (the region I grew up in and where my family is from) the next day. It's almost as if I'm moving backwards in time... backwards into my body.... waiting to hit the bone marrow to see what it's made of... a small glimpse of my personal history and a half conscious vision of my ancestry, all in the context of these films that are both a personal history of my subconscious and a fleeting residue of filmic metaphysics.
To that end, I grabbed the novel Ka (about the Hindu gods) on the way out the door as it seemed to be the perfect companion on such a travel through so many ghosts (gone but not forgotten). We'll see how it plays.
The films are screening at 7pm.
Eric
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Ritual Etchings: The Experimental Short Films of Eric Patrick on tour Sept. 4 - 13
Check back here over the next week as Eric posts entries to the blog while on tour.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Eric Patrick tours with Southern Circuit - Sept. 4-13
Experimental director and animator Eric Patrick will be showing a collection of short films that spans a decade of his highly acclaimed work on the Southern Circuit Tour of Independent Filmmakers from September 4 - 13, 2007. The collection entitled Ritual Etchings: The Experimental Shorts of Eric Patrick represents not only ten years of Patrick’s work, but also a sort of general method that he uses in his work. “The films are a cohesive collection of a certain approach to filmmaking for me,” he says. “I was interested in finding innovative techniques to illustrate the concepts that I was dealing with.”Listen to an audio interview with filmmaker Eric Patrick about his work with experimental film, the ritual of animation, and the challenges of finding audiences for short films.
Get tour dates, locations, and times
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