For the Love of Mud

I don't really heart Jake Gyllenhaal. I couldn't care less about him. Well, I like his upper lip. But I just wanted to lighten the mood after my war-criminals posting.

I've been trying to get things together to shoot Robot Secretary #3. It's an outdoor shoot with a ton of sound issues. People have been telling me anyway that the sound on my videos is terrible and I should use mics. Now I'm lost in a miasma of logistics: finding locations in and around Times Square; trying and failing to rent a camera with mics; considering buying a new camcorder and mics but stressing about the money and the difficulty of learning how to operate a new machine; trying and failing to get friends to appear as extras who proposition Robot Secretary in Times Square.

It's making me want to scream. If I have to think about one more thing -- it feels like more problems than should crop up for a 3-page sketch. This is my attempt at a shorter episode. I've already gone through so much aggro it feels like my Fitzcarraldo (but so did #1 actually).

It's just so hard to do anything that isn't just sitting down with a computer or a notebook and writing. Boy, that's freedom. This is nuts. I did manage to get a tin bowl and roasting forks for my friend who will play the cowboy ... you'll see.
I got his shirt a week ago. I need to remember to bring two casserole pots and two sets of roasting forks now. My props and gear increases but my budget and crew does not.

Do not? Can't be grammatical, can't think about that now.

It's not like writing is easy anyway! It's torture! But at least it's all on my head. I can prod myself till I come up with something. Now I'm having to prod and beg and request all these things of other people. It feels like my head is being chewed out from the inside by worms.

love,
La Misma