As 2012 spreads her legs and gives birth to a pink and slimy 2013, I will be spending my New Year’s staring into a crackling fire like Charles Foster Kane, ruminating on the lives I’ve ruined with my immense wealth and power. Actually, I’ll likely find myself in Denver at a loud and sweaty night club, at the behest of my wife who wants to “go dancing”. Sigh…love makes a man do crazy things. Some men enslave entire peoples for the sake of love. Not me, I just wiggle uncomfortably on a dance floor next to a delightful young man named Peaches, who was kind enough to lend me one of his glow-in-the-dark bracelets. This seems a small price to pay.
My holiday was pleasant, but strange. We opted to break our Christmas up in order to visit as many family and friends as possible. I enjoyed myself and was grateful for the warmth and generosity of our company. However, it wasn't until I was in the presence of my father, in the house where I grew up, enclosed by the drifts of snow and twenty below weather that is common in my hometown, did I feel like it was Christmas. I was also hit with that sweet and sour mixture that only comes from nostalgia clashing with the inevitable future. I suppose it’s a portent of things to come, as next year we’ll be leaving our pines and mountains for the smog and palms of Los Angeles.
The lead up to our patch work holiday was not felt by me, since most of the month of December saw me hunched over a computer, brow-furrowed in vain attempt to get video to render. After a wonderful break, I'm back on the horse, waiting nervously for a finished MPEG-4 that doesn't look like hammered shit, but at this point I'd take any MPEG-4 at all. "General Error" seems to be my computer's rallying cry after being asked to perform its duties. In the not too distant future... I imagine hordes of robots, hunting humanity down and grinding their pulpy, mortal frames into a rich fuel that will propel the steel and silicon ovelords toward victory. And all the while, amid our screams for mercy and the clattering noises of machinery, will we hear a legion of robotic voices say: "General Error". What does that mean, you ask? Doom, that's what.
As I sit here waiting for my machine to either pardon or execute my project, listening to my downstairs neighbor have a screaming match with her house guest through our quaint system of heating vents, I catch myself thinking: 2012 was pretty good. I received a great many opportunities this year. I've been able to stretch my wings a bit. I created two live action shorts which, while not perfect, taught me a lot. Due to the generosity of Cinevore Studios, Victorian Cut-Out Theatre continues to find its audience. I've been been able to make a bit of money at editing and videography, money that we'll be using to move to L.A. I got to be a part of some lovely projects (WTF Are You Watching Podcast and Dance of Joy Productions). Yep, 2012 turned out well. Let's hope this continues to be the case in 2013. Thank you for your support this past year and as you lift your glass this evening, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me and my projects in your thoughts for next year. If you wanted to call out my name while you make sweet love tonight, I wouldn't say no to that either.
Every little bit helps,