I am more relaxed now. I no longer fidget in my sleep, dreaming about work. I no longer wake up in a state of panic, thinking about the tasks I need to get done for the day.
I've been relaxed for a week, a full week. AND IT FEELS GOOD.
I know I'd have to get back on the daily program soon enough
and I can't wait.
13.10.12
October: On Alpha Male Film Directors
August was so good to me I expected September to be the same. And it was pretty much okay. There were problems that made me want to go on a road rage and a mass killing spree but I managed through all of them. It was October that ruined it for me.
It was on October 2 (technically, October 3, at around 2 or 3 a.m.) when the director of the film I had been working on pushed me, as in LITERALLY PUSHED ME. He's a big, fat alpha male, in case you're wondering.
It sucked. It really did. I can't even-- I'd like to think that we had a good relationship. He wanted to teach me Production Design and though it has never been included in my plans, why pass up an opportunity to learn, right? I'd also like to think that he was content and, I can even say, impressed with how our team was working until blah blah blah blah internal issue with a co-worker blah blah I don't even want to start. The story's too long for this blog post and for your attention span.
So one shooting day, everyone was tired and exhausted for not getting enough sleep for weeks on end when communication between departments and key persons became unsystematic and confusing, which isn't really something that is new on this project. Fast forward past the shouting and running and blaming, I hurried down to the set and saw our director about to punch one of the talents. Around that time, most of the staff thought that the delay was my fault. So the director looked at my direction, pointing at me, shouting curses and yelling, and cursing, and yelling! I gave no response. I was just there, poker-faced and all. I didn't really care. I thought, Oh, he's just angry, he just needs to let it all out. He'll be alright. I was on that trail of though when he decided to ATTACK me, and PUSH me. He just pushed me, his right hand on my right shoulder, for about five steps forward while I just kept stepping back. Apparently not satisfied, with his left hand (still pushing me with his right), he took the Monobloc chair behind him and threw it next to me.
And that concludes my career in Costume Design and Production Design, stripping me of any chance of going to Berlinale. Thank you very much.
That's one goal in life I don't have to get confused about anymore. Less options, less dilemmas, less problems. I'd like to think positive and see this as a sign to just pursue my own projects instead of working for other people for theirs. Isn't that a good way of looking at it? Reality though, it still sucks.
It was on October 2 (technically, October 3, at around 2 or 3 a.m.) when the director of the film I had been working on pushed me, as in LITERALLY PUSHED ME. He's a big, fat alpha male, in case you're wondering.
It sucked. It really did. I can't even-- I'd like to think that we had a good relationship. He wanted to teach me Production Design and though it has never been included in my plans, why pass up an opportunity to learn, right? I'd also like to think that he was content and, I can even say, impressed with how our team was working until blah blah blah blah internal issue with a co-worker blah blah I don't even want to start. The story's too long for this blog post and for your attention span.
So one shooting day, everyone was tired and exhausted for not getting enough sleep for weeks on end when communication between departments and key persons became unsystematic and confusing, which isn't really something that is new on this project. Fast forward past the shouting and running and blaming, I hurried down to the set and saw our director about to punch one of the talents. Around that time, most of the staff thought that the delay was my fault. So the director looked at my direction, pointing at me, shouting curses and yelling, and cursing, and yelling! I gave no response. I was just there, poker-faced and all. I didn't really care. I thought, Oh, he's just angry, he just needs to let it all out. He'll be alright. I was on that trail of though when he decided to ATTACK me, and PUSH me. He just pushed me, his right hand on my right shoulder, for about five steps forward while I just kept stepping back. Apparently not satisfied, with his left hand (still pushing me with his right), he took the Monobloc chair behind him and threw it next to me.
And that concludes my career in Costume Design and Production Design, stripping me of any chance of going to Berlinale. Thank you very much.
That's one goal in life I don't have to get confused about anymore. Less options, less dilemmas, less problems. I'd like to think positive and see this as a sign to just pursue my own projects instead of working for other people for theirs. Isn't that a good way of looking at it? Reality though, it still sucks.
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