#post 5.4

[bullshit-radar]

Setting the light...

Das Set war so akzeptabel. Trotzdem: Das Key Light kam direkt von vorne, nicht in einem 45° Winkel. Das Filllight kam aus einer LED-Taschenlampe. Nur das Mag Light gefiel mir gut.

An dieser Stelle: Merci cuepropmter.com.

Zwei Videos musste ich aus Zeitgründen nun in diesem Setting abdrehen. Ich wollte aber nicht aufgeben und doch noch erfolgreich ein interessanteres Set bauen...

[zingapprentice-blog]

Writing Exercise #5

A thick fog began to roll in from the southern edges of the field by the time she’d gotten him to sit down next to her on the park bench. She hadn’t realized just how big the field of Northwick Park were until she could no longer see their boundaries; the fences that separated the grass from the neighboring residential properties and the adjacent metropolitan line they’d taken to get here. There was no particular reason for their getting off at this stop; he had stormed out from their shared flat near Tower Bridge after she approached him with the photos, and she had followed him with the hopes she might get some answers. They sat in silence, occasionally interrupted by her starting up with another statement along the lines of “…What I just don’t understand is…” She didn’t realize it until the silence that fell between them prompted her to look over the incoming fog, but that was probably the last time they’d be in that flat together: screaming, eyes rolling, fists-clenching, doors slamming. Would those be the last notes of their cacophonous duet?

Still, in their current measure, he said nothing. He hadn’t said a word since before Baker street. In fact, she thought, he hadn’t really said anything to her in months.

The fog seemed to rise and expand like helium in a balloon: she was glad this was case tonight. She didn’t want to be visible. The grass was wet with the dew of an early sunset thanks to daylight savings the week before – if only she knew then what she knew now… Would they be here?

She wanted to stand up from the wet, wooden bench that had been tagged with orange spray paint. She wanted to float away gently into the night sky with the fog, drifting indefinitely from the confines of her soft shell of a body.