The Flowers, They're Goldblumin' (or I Prefer My Shakes Maltin)

I have a quick confession to make. Due to the rigorous nature of the festival, I may not be able to update the blog as much as I would otherwise like to do. It's currently 1:23 A.M. in Telluride, Colorado, and I've already got to be up for breakfast and a discussion at 7:30 A.M. -- yikes. Prepare not to sleep if you ever come to Telluride. By its very nature, especially relevant to Student Symposium, you are out and about at all hours of the day and the night -- it is (blissfully) unrelenting. I have absolutely no complaints.

I have a lot that I plan to write here, personal anecdotes and may venture into the realm of using videoblogs to condense information, but since I won't have time enough to prepare oratory on the subject matters, writing things down here or in a notebook seems to be a more appropriate way to store my thoughts for the time being. I've always been a writer first and an actor/improviser second, so I'll opt to stick to my guns on this one -- the deliciously serendipitous (and not-so-serenditious) occurrences here at Telluride deserve a meticulously and thorough relation, with careful attention to details.

A story might be fun to hear in person, but my one experimental venture into videoblogging (or vlogging) resulted in a fairly circuitous, rambling and incoherent relation of several anecdotes, including but not limited to a brief and spastic tour of my condo (by means of spinning my computer around in a circle). So. Let's put that brief bit behind us, ignore it for now, and hope for the best via the textual relation of my stories to all of ya'll.

A brief note that I will expound upon after the festival's close comes from our class discussion with filmmaker Peter Sellars -- Sellars, in his forty-five minute lecture to us all, talked of the importance of praise and of understanding intentionality. His focus with these two main core subjects was on defining who you are in the truest form, and admittedly having to go through some relative hell or tumult to arrive at a sense of peace or appropriate purpose in one's life. He said something to us all that really struck a chord with me -- I may be paraphrasing a bit when I transcribe this quote from my hastily-written notes, but the sentiment that follows is a near perfect illustration that my life has taken in the past year.

"It's when you're in a miserable state in your life that you really realize what it is you want and who you really are (and who you need to become) -- also, how to come to a place that mirrors that."
-- Peter Sellars

What Sellars said to our symposium is outstandingly relevant in the sense that a less than favorable state in my life led me to realize exactly what it was I needed to be doing with my life. I was in a situation where the circumstances were unfavorable, where I was making choices based on the concerns and opinions of others instead of first consulting myself.

I am being purposefully cryptic because I intend to expound on this a bit more in a later post, but trust me when I say that in the past year (since having realized the changes that needed to be made), life has been close to ideal. A place like Telluride makes me (at least) realize that everything I have come to believe in the past year of my life and have realized as aspirations, goals and wants, is intensely valid if potentially less poetic than the linguistic stylings of Peter Sellars, filmmaker and honorary motivational speaker, in my book.

Also, I have some additional quick notes for further explication. Look forward to hearing about the following:

• My Chance Meeting with Leonard Maltin
• Meeting Jeff Goldblum (complete with pictures to prove it!) + Bonus Random Anecdote
  
• Symposium Discussion with Ken Burns
• Symposium Discussion with Peter Sellars (in further detail)
• Paul Vester's short film In The Woods (and aftermath)
  
• U.S. Premiere of Waltz With Bashir & Meeting with Director Ari Folman (w/ Folman's video introduction that almost got me kicked out of the Chuck Jones' Cinema -- sorry, Telluride Staff, I honestly didn't know that it was forbidden!)
  
• U.S. Premiere of A Private Century by Czech Director Jan Sikl & Meeting Afterward

It's true what they say about Telluride, in that you have every opportunity to meet anyone who is in attendance. The Ari Folman story, in particular, is an excellent illustration of how making the right choice (what would normally be considered going the extra mile) allows that which is unbelievable to become a distinct reality.

Everyone here really is within an arm's reach. The opportunities can slip away as easily as they present themselves -- but, thankfully, I have rarely been one to turn down an opportunity. And, since being here in Telluride is such a special honor, I'll be damned if I am going to walk by someone I respect or who has inspired me in some way without at least introducing myself. Some are content to observe from afar and say, "Hey! It's Jeff Goldblum." But, I got to talk to the man, all because I made the effort to do so. It's not hard, per se, but it takes some courage.

For me, the fact that I am here in Telluride is courage enough. Cheers.

Who's With Me?

No, seriously. I'm asking the question and hoping for answers. Who visits this website? Who are all of ya'll? I cannot help but reach out to satisfy my insatiable curiosity -- it may have killed the cat, but hopefully this human will survive. So, do me a favor and post a comment saying your name, where you're from and how you found out about this blog. Alternatively, if you're someone who I have personally made aware of this blog, why not post a little hello if you feel up to it.

Onward!

For readers of 24 Frames, I sincerely hope that this weblog serves as a way and means for you to experience the 35th Telluride Film Festival as if firsthand. This blog post inaugurates a feeling of unity that I hope will continue to remain prevalent on this blog henceforth -- thereby, the use of the enclosed fist raised into the air. We stand together. Myself and you, the internet. As they say in what I imagine to be the only Spanish I'll ever need to know, "Mi Telluride Film Festival es su Telluride Film Festival."

I will not solely be writing for myself in keeping this blog updated throughout the course of the festival, but equally for family, friends and those who stumble upon this page and find that they're intrigued with its contents. The locus of my writing efforts will be to recreate the festival experience -- I want the reader, more than anything, to feel like they are proverbially 'along for the (Tellu)ride.' Excuse the pun. I could not resist.

Neglecting to share this experience in any fashion would be a tragedy. In fact, in being given such a rare gift as to attend the 35th Telluride Film Festival Student Symposium, it is my opinion that making all of the information accessible globally is a necessity. All of the facts, the critiques, opinions and, above all, the mind-bending stories that will come from this experience, as I see it, will be too precious to keep to one's self.

In recording the six days I am in Telluride, Colorado, I am making a commitment to hopefully inspire others in ways that I have been inspired. I am of the opinion that nothing affects the mind to greater effect than the relation of personal storytelling. For me, this is most certainly true. I have been impressed, inspired, challenged and frightened all through examples from the lives of others -- never have I been more moved as when someone told me something that has happened to them. In this way, the story is personal, real and tangible.

Such stories beg the asking of a particular question. It is, so it goes, "if it can happen to them, why can't it happen to me?" Or, if painful, the opposite is true. "I hope nothing like that ever happens to me," one could be heard to say.

Personal stories of all kinds have led me to where I am today. In six days, I start to tell my own. The rest is yet to be told.

A Dream Postponed

Look at those puppy dog eyes. It can't be denied that those eyes are issuing a fierce apology to this blogger -- or, at least, that is exactly what I would like to think. I say this on account of a bit of news that came to me early this morning. With the aforementioned news came what in my opinion is an equal dose of good and bad news. Spike Lee's eyes, in the above picture, might say it all.

An anonymous reader of 24 Frames wrote a comment on my last post about Brandon Colvin's dream regarding myself, Spike Lee and the Telluride Film Festival. The anonymous reader wrote first that he is a fan of the blog and second that Spike Lee's film Miracle at St. Anna is set to premiere at this year's 33rd Annual Toronto International Film Festival, which happens only two days after the 35th Telluride Film Festival. Read about it here.

Apparently, it was announced in early July, which just goes to show how much news one can miss out on while abroad -- for those not in the know, I spent the last seven weeks or so abroad in the Czech Republic, where national cinema is on the rise, but where Hollywood blockbusters are the only things you'll find at the cinema otherwise. And, the arrival of these films is almost always unimaginably delayed -- for example, by the time I was about to leave Prague, The Hulk and Made of Honor were just being released. Pretty sad, though I did get to see a fabulous Czech film (with Eng. subs) by director Petr Zelenka, entitled Karamazovi based on Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. Highly, highly recommended.

Now, I mentioned earlier that hearing this news was something of a blessing and a curse. While I am understandably somewhat despondent to hear that Lee won't make it to Colorado to premiere his film, an important set of realizations come along with this sad news. First, I realize that this is by no means the end of a dream -- as the title of the post suggests, the dream is not over but only postponed. In fact, it hits me clearly now more than ever before that sitting idly by wishing that something were to happen is likely to be the least productive method of making these dreams come true.

Sheer force of will alone cannot direct one's future -- herein lies the difference between thought and action. Also notable is the fact that each individual is in complete control as the primary agent in his or her life -- in short, you are responsible for what happens. I can will towards coincidence as long as I want, but that won't change the fact that Lee's film is debuting at Toronto. By contrast, if I am to meet Spike Lee, another route must be taken.

Thankfully, this alternative route does not involve the act of stalking. That would be far too creepy and disrespectful. Instead, I am lucky to have as a friend a fellow by the name of Dan Sandford, Director of Graduate Admissions at New York University, where Spike Lee is Artistic Director of the Maurice Kanbar Institute of Film & Television and teaches the 3rd-Year MFA Film Production Program. Sandford is a great friend with an incomparable taste in contemporary and classic jazz music. He also represents a direct connection to New York University and Spike Lee.

I visited Dan in New York for the first time last December, both to reunite with him and explore the university, as I intend to apply to New York University for graduate studies. Herein lies the opportunity to not only meet Lee, but to have him as an instructor and close mentor. I still am not certain whether I will attend graduate studies for film production or analytic cinema studies. If I am accepted and attend for production, I will be taught by Lee. If I attend for cinema studies, I won't be instructed by him, but I will still have the opportunity for him to read the analysis of A Huey P. Newton Story that I presented at the University of Notre Dame in April. That's the dream that needs completion.

In looking forward, I see that Spike Lee's absence at the festival is not a major loss. The mystery of Telluride is still, and truthfully has always been, the draw of the festival. Any way you spin it, Telluride is going to be life-changing. You can't spoil a thing so great at this.

And, the other exceedingly positive thing that I learned from this news? I learned that people outside of my friends and family are frequenting this blog. Knowing that makes me beyond ecstatic. I hope that what I write from now until the festival's close brings you as much joy as it will me to be able to write it. Here's to you, anonymous reader(s). Cheers!