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H and Mr. T worked on a film together last weekend. Only unlike the Coens, this pair has one brother who directs, and one who acts.

H has been filming Mr. T as long as he’s been playing around with movie cameras. A brother almost ten years younger makes good fodder for a teenage filmmaker. Especially when that younger brother is willing to do almost anything: being the candy-loving superhero Super T, a slightly insane Pirate Ninja Man, a very young James Bond. (H was inspired early on by Robert Rodriguez after reading Rebel Without a Crew. Have you seen Rodriguez’ short student film “Bedhead“, featuring his younger siblings?) 

This latest project was H’s first serious collaboration with his brother. The original idea for this film started brewing after H visited the odd local spot referred to as the Albany Bulb. The link takes you to an article from the San Francisco Chronicle, which begins:

“It’s a little spit of land jutting out into the San Francisco Bay from Albany on the eastern shore. Boasting a world-class view of the Golden Gate bridge and spectacular sunsets, the Bulb was originally a dump, covered over with dirt and then by vegetation. Deemed toxic, and neglected for many years, this unwanted trash heap was claimed by kindred spirits; fellow outcasts like homeless people and artists and finally, dog-walkers who could let their canine charges run wild.”

Everywhere on the The Bulb, you’ll find art. A giant driftwood dragon, an amphitheater made from junk, the heart-shaped “Castle” created from concrete and shopping cart parts. 

albany bulb

the dragon

When H saw the Castle, a story began to collect, about a young boy who lives on an island, alone, making a home in the Castle and gazing across the water at the skyline of San Francisco. H saw it as a wordless film, without much explanatory narrative. A film that could capitalize on the wildly disparate images of the Bulb: nature and garbage, sunsets and art crafted from cast-offs. A place that somehow conveys both hopefulness and hopelessness.

And of course, H had the perfect actor in mind.

boy alone

I was a little worried about that. It was one thing to have H and Mr. T collaborate on home-spun projects together. But this would be made with H’s film program. His instructor from the program would be there. Even more of a concern: the program had been gifted with some actual 16 mm film, and H’s project was to be shot on it. Because shooting on film is so different from shooting on digital, they would hire a cinematographer to work with H. And they couldn’t afford lots of extra shots; the film was too precious.

looking out from the castle

It would be one very long day’s shoot. And I had no idea how Mr. T would hold up.

one crazy set

Turns out, he’s a pro. A pro with a bit of attitude. He didn’t like rehearsing shots. H would tell him what he wanted, and when they filmed the digital rehearsal (to record the sound), Mr. T would do some half-hearted little pantomime. But as soon as the film camera rolled (and you can hear film rolling in a camera), T would nail just what H asked for. Usually on the first shot.

P1090584

Of course, he had no lines, which helped.

Chris and I were there for the day, from 8:00 am to 5:30, to serve as child wranglers and food fetchers. But I didn’t have a lot to do. Other than a little bit of costume-fixing, a good deal of knitting, and a good deal of watching my boys.

costume mistress

A film shoot can be about as exciting as watching bread dough rise. It’s slow and tedious and often eye-crossingly boring. But what amazes me is that H, a kid I would never describe as patient, loves every minute of it. He has such a strong vision of what he wants for each shot, and he’s willing to do what it takes to get it.

brotherly direction

On Thursday, H left for Los Angeles for a field trip with his film program. One of their destinations is FotoKem , the largest film processing lab on the west coast. They’ll have a tour, they’ll have their film processed. Then, according to H’s film project director, “we’ll have a chance to screen our 16mm film in an in-house theater specifically for watching ‘dailies’. They’ll be sitting in seats previously occupied by Scorsese, Coppola, etc.”

It’s an amazing opportunity.

When I asked H why shooting on film is such a big deal, he got up out of his chair and started pacing around the kitchen, he was so excited. “It’s just gonna look so good!” But shooting on film is nerve-wracking too: H won’t know how his footage came out until he sees it screened in that theater. I can’t wait to find out.

The lab will transfer the film to digital. Then when H gets home, he’ll begin editing.

waiting for sunset

I have no doubt that H will find work in the film industry, someday, somewhere. But Mr. T as an actor? Who knows? Waiting to see H’s film develop is nothing compared to waiting to see this wacky kid develop. If Mr. T does decide to continue acting, if one day some cheesy Barbara Walters special wants vintage footage, we’ll have lots of good stuff to offer. Footage lovingly filmed by his brother.

last shot

I haven’t written one of these atwitter posts in a while. Not that I haven’t been all atwitter–ask my husband about my tendency to yammer on about things. I just haven’t written about it. So, making up for lost posts…

our lavender is blooming.

my bees are happy

60 plants worth, on our front hillside, right beside our beehive. Can you spot one of our girls in the photo? I wish I could insert smells into my posts, because this Provence lavender is eyes-rolling-back-in-your-head fragrant. I really ought to film the flurry of bees out there so you’d believe how many there are–one morning I counted more than twenty on a single plant. This new little colony is taking its time building up comb, though. I’d assumed that with the abundance of lavender, the comb production would pick up quickly, but that hasn’t been the case so far. A beekeeper on the Beemaster Forum explained that despite popular belief, a new colony won’t build comb to keep up with a nectar flow; it will build comb as needed to keep up with its population, and therefore might not be ready to take advantage of a nearby flow. So I just need to be patient, and let Queen Bee-atrice keep doing her thing. But one of these days, I hope there will be enough honey for me to steal a frame. I know exactly where I’ll put it:

a pot for my honey.

for my honey

Isn’t it perfectly splendid? Wouldn’t Pooh love it? I found it at, of all places, Anthropologie. (Actually, Anthropologie seems to be a bee-loving company: for Earth Day, they had a neat little online honeybee promo, with some art that inspired my kids. If you click on the arrow near the bees in the promo, you’ll be led through a few pages of honeybee info.)

a new book.

wicked plants in a wicked plant

If you’re a plant lover with a dark sense of humor, then you must get your hands on Wicked Plants: The Weed that Killed Lincoln’s Mother & Other Botanical Atrocities by Amy Stewart. It’s a compendium of–from the back cover–”plants that kill, maim, intoxicate, and otherwise offend.” Fun stuff! It’s also a beautiful little book, with faux-aged pages, old-fashioned etchings and creepy drawings.  I photographed it in my morning glory vine, the seeds of which are, apparently, capable of producing “an LSD-like trip if eaten in large quantity.” (I find the vine to be more violence-inducing, as I am constantly ripping at it whenever it strangles my more tender plants.)

healthy cookies.

healthy cookies

No, it’s not an oxymoron. I saw the recipe for Nikki’s Healthy Cookies on 101 Cookbooks a while back, and finally got around to making them. Yum! They’re not so decadent as your typical chocolate chip cookie, but they’re surprisingly tasty given their list of healthy ingredients. We like them frozen, which makes their texture a little nicer. Whole Foods’ Dark Chocolate Chunks work especially well in the recipe. (And you’ll have extras to nibble on and call them antioxidants.)

a new knitting project.

jane meets a lacy skirt

Don’t tell my sweater coat! This is the short, simple number I mentioned in my letter. It’s actually my own bastardization of two patterns that I like: the Jane cardigan from Custom Knits, and the Lacy Skirt with Bows from Greetings from Knit Cafe. Details forthcoming on my Ravelry page for you knitting geeks. (Sorry about those Ravelry links, if you’re not a Raveler.)

Spanish design blogs.

berry lover

Back in June, I posted this photo of Mr. T with some of our ollalieberries to the Flickr group 100 Things to Love About Summer (’cause if ripe ollallieberries aren’t one of the top 100 things to love about summer, I don’t know what is.) A month or so later, I got an email from Spain, asking for permission to use the photo. Which is how Mr. T ended up on a Spanish design blog, under the heading 100 Razones para Amar el Verano. Which tickles me in an it’s-a-small-world-after-all kind of way.

And even though the kid doesn’t look Spanish, he’s a full one-quarter. ¡Viva la familia Zaballos de Macotera, España!

fun in the sidebar.

I’m adding a place in the sidebar that links to exciting stuff I wander across on my internet ramblings. Mosey on over to the tab that says ever-changing list of wondrous links. I’ve posted a link to the Healthy Cookies recipe there, to keep it up for a while, and also links to some fantastic writing by Michael Chabon and Pico Iyer. That spot in the sidebar will give me a place to share little bits of wonder–even if I’m not keeping up with these atwitter posts.

So I’ll ask yet again, what has you all atwitter?

I’ve never joined a photo pool party. But, you may recall, one of my resolutions for 2009 is “improve my photography skills”. 

So when erin at house at hill road invited folks along on her yellow week, I jumped in.yellow week.1

Yellow has never been a favorite color of mine. I don’t own a single piece of yellow clothing–I look terrible in it. So I was surprised, when I walked around our house hunting for yellow, to discover it everywhere.

yellow week.2

Almost every room in our house has yellow or gold as an accent color–it seems we use it the way some people use red. And it isn’t just in the background. We put a big hug of honey-colored tile in our kitchen; the entire exterior of our house is stuccoed in yellow. It’s a great foil for foliage.

yellow week.3

So maybe I like yellow more than I realized. There’s nothing like it for adding a little sunlight. (But I’m still not gonna wear it.)

I have a lot to learn about photography, but jumping in the pool has been fun. Thanks for inviting us for a dip, Erin!