Ginevra kept saying it to me as she sat next to me on the park bench, her legs draped over my lap as she munched on a sandwich.
"It's the end of an era."
I nodded to her that it was. I had been pretty silent, half because I was exausted from a busy lunch shift, and half because the news had come so suddenly.
That morning while racing, nearly late, to the cafe' I had hurredly checked my phone for the time.
One Voicemail, Scribbles.
"What the hell do they want? Is there an issue with the Martinau wedding invites? I'm already late as it is."
I mashed the speed-dial to get to voicemail and held the phone to my ear as I trucked down Church Street, hoping that I wouldn't have to stop into the shop on my break between lunch and dinner shifts. The robotic voice came over the speaker, inexorably slow.
"You have one new message. Press one for your messages."
What followed the beep however was not Scribbles manager Jenny's chai-latte fueled, rapid-fire speak but the sound of crying.
"Scribbles is closing."
I stopped walking for a moment.
But only for a moment.
The message went on, but the first sentence was the most important. I don't really even think I heard the rest of the voicemail at all. Fiscally I wasn't too worried. I had just landed a full time job waiting tables at a local asian cafe, and though I had been considering working there as well as my part-time job at the venerable stationery store with the silly name I knew that I wouldn't be able to work seven days a week for more than a few months before I burnt out. Yet as I rushed around waiting tables that afternoon the phrase kept repeating in my head.
"Scribbles is closing."
Thus my break between shifts found me sitting in the park next to the chick I called Nev. Inhumanly petite, with a massive amount of red hair, Ginevra looks more like a pixie than a woman, and one can imagine a timid voice coming from her bespectacled person.
One COULD imagine that...and one would be wrong.
"What the fuck happened!?"
I leaned back on the bench and pushed some hair out of my eyes.
"The recession happened."
A homeless hippy, hair dreded down the back of his dirty tie-dye t-shirt, walked by the bench,
"You got a smoke?"
I shook my head no wondering if he'd ever smoked one of his dreds. I've heard that marijuanna residue can get stored in your hair follicles. I was particularly enjoying this train of thought half giggling to myself when Ginevra snapped me back to attention.
"I mean, it's not like we didn't see it coming."
It was true I supposed, the store had been carrying less and less stock but it never seemed like we'd actually close. Alot of small businessses were forced to reduce stock due to the economic downturn and we were no exception. Thing seemed to be getting better at the end of that summer. Burlington's beloved kitch, card, and wedding stationery store, with it's Franz Kafka finger puppets, off beat cards (my favourite being a romantic one one that read "I want to have text with you") and other odds and ends seemed to be coming back from the finacial dip. Vermont passed Gay Marriage and there was an increase in the number of invites we were printing as a direct result of that. All in all, the feeling among the girls was that things were looking up. But looks were decieving.
It wasn't just the sudden nature of Scribbles closing that unsettled me so, nor the loss of the wages, since I already had another job, but the loss of an important peice of my personal history. This was the place I had worked for 2 1/2 years, a long time in my young life and over half the time that i'd lived in vermont. Starting as a sales girl and ending as weekend manager and a custom stationery consultant, it was where I met Ginevra, learned to really sell, became a typography snob, and even learned design, something that opened up a world of possibilities to me creatively. A small family business, I became close with the Mom and Pop owners, and called Joe on more than one occation to ask for directions. That's not to say that it was idyllic all the time, like any workplace there were ups and downs and occational conflicts of personality. (Even Ginevra and I, who are close of friends went through a period of three months where I wouldn't speak to her.) But shit happens, and we'd all weathered it together.
I pushed my pad thai around with a chopstick and then closed the box I was eating it from.
"Let's go look at the store."
Hiking back up Church Street I found myself doing exactly what I hadn't wanted to earlier in the day, going to the shop on my break. We stood side by side in front of the plate glass window, and I looked in. My paper lanterns hung from the ceeling, un-moving. Usually they would sway and bob as people came in and out of the store but now they hung, heavy on their strings.
"I want my paycheck man."
Ginevra said, cupping her hands around her eyes and peering into the dark store.
"They don't owe me any money, I took last weekend off to go camping."
"How'd that go?"
"I discovered something about myself."
"Oh yeah."
"I'm a city person."
Sighing, Ginevra pulled her face away from the glass, leaving a smudge on the window pane. The bright light streaming through the glass made the outline of a sticker that had been removed a long time ago visible.
"Book? Is that what it says? Do you see that?"
I pointed to the window.
Nev squinted her eyes,
"I guess this place was a bookstore or something before it was Scribbles."
"It will be something else after Scribbles too."
I stepped back and silently prayed it wouldn't be another chain store. As the recession closed down small businesses the storefronts were being bought by what we called "box stores." Those corporate franchises that could weather the slow times in a way that the grassroots places couldn't. Ginevra kicked the brick below the window.
"C'mon let's grab a beer before your second shift."
I followed her up to the dive bar with the free popcorn. Not because I wanted a beer especially, but because it seemed like the best thing to do. End of an era my ass, it was just the end of Scribbles.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
They call it shooting for a reason...
So there's been a kind of change of plans in my shooting schedule. I'm going to be shooting all next week and editing the week after. The weather is looking pretty good, and suddenly I have access to this pretty good camera, and a letus 35mm adaptor, (which is sweet, trust me) and if I really kick out the jams I think I can have a good cut of the film for the uvm film festival... Anyway, all this insanity means I need to do all my schoolwork for the next 2 weeks this weekend. I hope that on Saturday I can go out and have a good time, since the next 14 days are going to be full of all nighters and the like...
I am really nervous to shoot, I'm DPing on my own and I want it to look as good as the stuff Jeff does, but he sets a pretty high standard. (If you're interested, look at Box Party under my videography links on the left, he DP'd that shoot.) Sometimes I feel like my shots lack depth, and maybe that's a product of cutting my teeth in theatre rather than film, though I'm hoping to really get past all those hang-ups in this piece. I haven't told you very much about my project, except that it's a dance film, but here's the general idea.
There is a group based in New York City called Troika Ranch, they combine media/dance/theatre in digital films, art installations, and live performances. I happened upon them through a media program called Isadora, which is kind of a long story. Anyway they created this short called BKLYN (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEL0TWF6sBQ) that really got me thinking about how time and space is used in film. I also find myself looking at work by Maya Deren, I know you're not one for arty cinema, but her short experimental films are really engaging to me. I'm also trying to address the issue of the feminine gaze and deliberately have her break the fourth wall on two occasions in the dance. Essentially I will be shooting the dance in the same way in 5 different locations and then editing the footage together as one, shifting location via jump cuts, split screens (sometimes up to 5 at once), combined with moments of the "Algorythmic editing" that's in the "BKLYN short.
The conceptual part of the short as a whole is essentially an exploration of personal perception of space and time. I'll attempt to address the issue of the private mind functioning in the public space, and the gap between who we are seen as and our personal understanding of ourselves. This leaves me with the dubious task of visually expressing the personal experience of time. Reading Deleuze expanded on this kind of thinking for me, and his theory has effected how I am viewing the project as a whole. Though the work itself doesn't directly hinge on the theoretical, it does make some attempts to bridge certain gaps between practice and theory...
I'll be updating everyday through the filming and editing process. Even if it's just grawlix.
Word of the day: Grawlix-A grawlix is a sequence of typographical symbols used to represent a non-specific, profane word or phrase. Here's an example of a typical grawlix: #@$%*!
I am really nervous to shoot, I'm DPing on my own and I want it to look as good as the stuff Jeff does, but he sets a pretty high standard. (If you're interested, look at Box Party under my videography links on the left, he DP'd that shoot.) Sometimes I feel like my shots lack depth, and maybe that's a product of cutting my teeth in theatre rather than film, though I'm hoping to really get past all those hang-ups in this piece. I haven't told you very much about my project, except that it's a dance film, but here's the general idea.
There is a group based in New York City called Troika Ranch, they combine media/dance/theatre in digital films, art installations, and live performances. I happened upon them through a media program called Isadora, which is kind of a long story. Anyway they created this short called BKLYN (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZEL0TWF6sBQ) that really got me thinking about how time and space is used in film. I also find myself looking at work by Maya Deren, I know you're not one for arty cinema, but her short experimental films are really engaging to me. I'm also trying to address the issue of the feminine gaze and deliberately have her break the fourth wall on two occasions in the dance. Essentially I will be shooting the dance in the same way in 5 different locations and then editing the footage together as one, shifting location via jump cuts, split screens (sometimes up to 5 at once), combined with moments of the "Algorythmic editing" that's in the "BKLYN short.
The conceptual part of the short as a whole is essentially an exploration of personal perception of space and time. I'll attempt to address the issue of the private mind functioning in the public space, and the gap between who we are seen as and our personal understanding of ourselves. This leaves me with the dubious task of visually expressing the personal experience of time. Reading Deleuze expanded on this kind of thinking for me, and his theory has effected how I am viewing the project as a whole. Though the work itself doesn't directly hinge on the theoretical, it does make some attempts to bridge certain gaps between practice and theory...
I'll be updating everyday through the filming and editing process. Even if it's just grawlix.
Word of the day: Grawlix-A grawlix is a sequence of typographical symbols used to represent a non-specific, profane word or phrase. Here's an example of a typical grawlix: #@$%*!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Shoplifters Beware or Mess with Jersey and feel the burn.
The other day I had some serious girl-detective action.
What with the ecomonic downturn, we've been seeing alot more shoplifing at good old Scribbles. Sadly I'm sure that most of it goes unnoticed, since we have a ton of little erasers and the like. However recently the girls and I had an epic adventure in apprehending a theif The woman in question entered our store on March 7th, 2009 at approximately 2:30pm. After browsing the store she approached the counter with one of the activity books from the front, the On-The-Go Kids activity book. She claimed that the book had been purchased by her husband, and that she wanted to return it, but didn?t have a receipt. One of the girls, Amelia Devoid, thought that she was behaving oddly and decided to check to see if the last activity book was on the shelf where it had been previous to the woman entering the store. It was not. This made it fairly clear that she had taken the book from the front of the store, and tried to return it to us. After this Amelia began to keep an eye on her, and noticed that she had a Jill Bliss wallet in her basket. These wallets are extremely distinctive as they are hand-sewn from old sheets, making no two exactly alike. The woman then began to move to the front of the store to exit. Amelia suspected she was shoplifting, and after checking to see if she had simply moved the product or perhaps returned it to the shelf (which she hadn?t) Amelia alerted me, Christa Pagliei. There was a moment of pause for Amelia to tell me the story, since I was helping some customers at the time and during this second the woman ducked out and onto Church Street. I grabbed my cell phone, told the girls to call the Burlington Police Department and went outside to follow her at a distance, since I figured it would be the easiest way to get back the merchandise. She went into Sweet Thing across the street, and I called one of the girls inside Scribbles so that we would be in contact. (Isn't technology wonderful?) The woman then proceeded up the block and went into Lake Champlain chocolates, but looked back and noticed me. I fell back a little, feigning embarrassment. I then crossed the street and tried to stay out of her sight. Upon exiting Lake Champlain Chocolates she headed towards the Burlington Mall. She entered the mall and I followed behind. Standing in the mall vestibule where I could see her and she couldn?t see me I noticed her crouching next to a kiosk, which I thought was kind of weird. She then continued through the mall, and I followed some distance behind, taking better care not to be seen. She then exited the mall at 110 Cherry Street and proceeded to the bus stop. By this time Ginevra Shay, also a Scribbles employee, had gotten the Police on the phone and it was just a waiting game for them to get to the bus stop. She boarded the bus to Essex junction, and I walked past it and signaled to the driver to please wait. At that point Officer Paul Glynn showed up, and I pointed her out and he began to talk to her and search her bag, neither the wallet or the activity book was in there. The other officer, who was very sweet, but I don't remember his name, asked if maybe she had seen me and ditched the merchandise. As I walked back towards Scribbles I remembered her squatting by the empty mall kiosk, I ran back to the mall, to the kiosk and noticed that the storage door on the one side wasn?t locked. I opened it, and low and behold there was the activity book! I brought it back to the officers. Later Office Glynn stopped into Lake Champlain Chocolates and discovered the wallet! He was right, she'd ditched it right after she spotted me.
And that?s what happened!
What with the ecomonic downturn, we've been seeing alot more shoplifing at good old Scribbles. Sadly I'm sure that most of it goes unnoticed, since we have a ton of little erasers and the like. However recently the girls and I had an epic adventure in apprehending a theif The woman in question entered our store on March 7th, 2009 at approximately 2:30pm. After browsing the store she approached the counter with one of the activity books from the front, the On-The-Go Kids activity book. She claimed that the book had been purchased by her husband, and that she wanted to return it, but didn?t have a receipt. One of the girls, Amelia Devoid, thought that she was behaving oddly and decided to check to see if the last activity book was on the shelf where it had been previous to the woman entering the store. It was not. This made it fairly clear that she had taken the book from the front of the store, and tried to return it to us. After this Amelia began to keep an eye on her, and noticed that she had a Jill Bliss wallet in her basket. These wallets are extremely distinctive as they are hand-sewn from old sheets, making no two exactly alike. The woman then began to move to the front of the store to exit. Amelia suspected she was shoplifting, and after checking to see if she had simply moved the product or perhaps returned it to the shelf (which she hadn?t) Amelia alerted me, Christa Pagliei. There was a moment of pause for Amelia to tell me the story, since I was helping some customers at the time and during this second the woman ducked out and onto Church Street. I grabbed my cell phone, told the girls to call the Burlington Police Department and went outside to follow her at a distance, since I figured it would be the easiest way to get back the merchandise. She went into Sweet Thing across the street, and I called one of the girls inside Scribbles so that we would be in contact. (Isn't technology wonderful?) The woman then proceeded up the block and went into Lake Champlain chocolates, but looked back and noticed me. I fell back a little, feigning embarrassment. I then crossed the street and tried to stay out of her sight. Upon exiting Lake Champlain Chocolates she headed towards the Burlington Mall. She entered the mall and I followed behind. Standing in the mall vestibule where I could see her and she couldn?t see me I noticed her crouching next to a kiosk, which I thought was kind of weird. She then continued through the mall, and I followed some distance behind, taking better care not to be seen. She then exited the mall at 110 Cherry Street and proceeded to the bus stop. By this time Ginevra Shay, also a Scribbles employee, had gotten the Police on the phone and it was just a waiting game for them to get to the bus stop. She boarded the bus to Essex junction, and I walked past it and signaled to the driver to please wait. At that point Officer Paul Glynn showed up, and I pointed her out and he began to talk to her and search her bag, neither the wallet or the activity book was in there. The other officer, who was very sweet, but I don't remember his name, asked if maybe she had seen me and ditched the merchandise. As I walked back towards Scribbles I remembered her squatting by the empty mall kiosk, I ran back to the mall, to the kiosk and noticed that the storage door on the one side wasn?t locked. I opened it, and low and behold there was the activity book! I brought it back to the officers. Later Office Glynn stopped into Lake Champlain Chocolates and discovered the wallet! He was right, she'd ditched it right after she spotted me.
And that?s what happened!
Monday, February 23, 2009
6 Brief Impressions of Wyckoff New Jersey Upon Returning
It is a strange moment when you realize
that in the place where you grew up,
skinned knees,
learned to bike,
kissed Ben Goodman by the water fountain
and then denied it,
you are now just a tourist.
***
Woke up.
There is a sort of dizziness
with a momentary heart palpitation.
Where is the girl from this room?
Did I kill her? Strike her out.
Or is she hunkered down in my heart
waiting to jump forth,
sass-faced and switchblade-tongued
when I say something foolish
or trip over my own two little feet.
***
In Polish there is a word, teskanota,
which means nostalgia with a twinge of sadness.
I keep running this through my head as I bike to the old library soaked in sweat.
Having been small here I remember it as bigger, mustier.
I did not recall the lack of anything
other than children’s books and Danielle Steele novels.
***
Ponch shows up at
and we shiver in the park drinking bitter coffee.
We talk about
his abandoning of this place for a warmer climate.
He ran south as I headed north.
He shakes his head,
“You can’t bleach it, you can’t burn it, it’s in the marrow of your bones.”
We will crack that history open, and examine the red insides.
Then part, not to see one another for a few years.
We will still lean towards one another,
across countries and continents,
little sunflowers.
***
I get lost in the park and somehow end up at a strip mall,
all paths here eventually lead to one I suppose.
The same five kids are hanging out
and the cliché familiarity breeds contempt hammers in my head.
I find myself hoping that these five do not breed at all
for the sake of humanity, and the Wyckoff P.D.
***
This is the place
where I
fell down went bang
and set the precedent for my whole life to follow-
fell down went bang
got up again
again
until the falling and the standing
molded me
by the force of my own weight crashing
over and over
amen
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