That’s what this blog is titled. It means the eye’s ability to retain a memory of something just seen for microseconds after the image is already gone. It’s what makes watching films possible.
It also means I have a vision. I want to make movies. I want to tell stories. I want to create something people can watch and enjoy.
Since I’ve graduated, I’ve had a very difficult time keeping that creative spark alive. Each day at school I found something inspiring, or a new idea popped into my head. I was thinking actively. I was being pushed. I had deadlines. I wanted to do well. I was motivated.
Now my weekends are the refuge from my hectic and long work days. From 8am until at least 7pm, sometimes 9, 10 or 11pm, I sit or rush around an office building, click a mouse and do things for other people. The things I do aren’t that interesting. By a normal person’s standards it’s a good job. The pay is decent. The benefits are tops. There’s even a retirement plan. In less than a year I could be an editor and making a hundred grand a year.
But I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I don’t want to cut trailers. I don’t want to work for some asshole who doesn’t know how to do his fucking job because he thinks 12-year-olds want to see more explosions in the trailer. I work there because I need money to live in Los Angeles. I live in Los Angeles because I want to make movies. So why aren’t I making movies?
I’m not surrounded by dozens of peers generated scores of ideas any more. I live in a house with three other people who are socially inactive. People I would hang out with are many miles/freeways/heavily-traffic-clogged-areas away. And most of them have jobs, and while they too came out here to make movies, to be in the entertainment industry, they are complacent. They nod and say “yeah, let’s totally do that” when I say “let’s make a movie,” but it ends there. Perhaps they suffer from the same lack of proximity that I do.
But I guess… If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.
I need to set goals. I need to make my own deadlines. I need to get the hell out of whatever funk I’m in. A hundred grand a year is not worth feeling like this for one week. I’m going to quit that job next year. I’m going to quit it because I’ll have something better lined up. I’ll be making another movie. I don’t care if they’re about to promote me. I will find something better. I will do what I love to do. I will not settle for “something in the industry.” I want to make movies.
I’ll make it on weekends. I’ll write something even if it’s shitty. I’ll rally people. I don’t care if they’re Ithaca people or not. If they don’t want to make it they can go fuck off. If they won’t write it, I will. If they won’t direct it, I will. If they won’t produce it, or manage it, or organize it, I will. I’ll do it all. This is ridiculous.
I’m not going to go quietly into the night. I’m not going to vanish without a fight. I’m going to live on. I’m going to survive. Today I celebrate Matt’s Going To Make A Fucking Movie Day.
Suck it, Hollywood.
