Wow, that may have been the most miserable drive I’ve ever taken from New York to North Carolina. Except for that one time when I was totally in love with that girl Mauri and I had no idea if she liked me or not and there was a rumor that my suitemate had told her something unsavory about me. You remember that trip?
Anyway, the sleet was blinding and pounding us all 500 miles, and I think Chopin accidentally sat in his own poop in Delaware, making the whole experience a neverending feast for the eyes, ears and parasympathetic nervous system.
To answer all the queries both here and on email, yes, we are going to show the roughest of rough cuts of the Pink House movie tonight, Friday, at 7pm on the UNC Campus, Carroll 111. If you plan to attend, get ready for the disclaimer of your life, because this movie is as unfinished as Schubert’s 8th Symphony.
The 8th Symphony has some very beautiful parts, as does “The Pink House,” but we need at least one giant fix of music, sound and picture before we can let it blossom in good faith. Yes, yes, we know. We finished shooting in 2003, but these things take an inordinate amount of time for a project this ambitious – and as longtime readers of the blog will know, we suffered at the hands of a pathological creature that set us back horribly. I will tell that story in class on Tuesday if it seems appropriate.
If you go, try and see it as it will be. Let my disclaimers wash over you like a warm balm.
In the meantime, how about some pictures of the glorious New Jersey Turnpike in the rectal-crack of winter?
massive truck explosion and fire
I can understand bullet holes in an Army jeep, but a white Chevy Suburban with a kiddie carseat? Yay Turnpike!
I accidentally took this picture while eating Sour Gummi Worms, but I think it captures the dreariness of the Turnpike in February. Christ, can spring fucking come already?!?