Jack Micheline leaned over and whispered in my ear one rainy summer night in the Mars Bar. It was just after a Spitball show at CBGBs and we were pretty amped up. Jack had introduced us, crowing poems about dollar bills and whores and Abraham Lincoln before we tore into our set.
“This cat eats everything.” He told me.
I smiled, nodding. I knew the painting he was talking about. Jack painted as much as he wrote.
He jabbed me hard in the ribs, then waved a finger at my nose.
“This cat eats everything.” He said, louder.
He had never seen any of my films. I had taken pictures of him dancing in front of a cemetery and he never asked me if they came out well. He had read some of my novel, Samantha and told me it was a hell of a story.
I was young then, always looking for approval, hiding ideas under rocks, filling secret boxes with pictures and stories. At one point I grew up, especially after I became a father. My daughter Eva watches me writing, shooting, editing every day. There is something liberating about having someone see your dirty laundry, your false starts, your half-baked experiments and your eventual triumphs if you stick with it. I highly recommend becoming a parent. It makes life very simple.
I have organized work I have directed and shot and edited here, in a meandering order that will make sense if you follow it. The most recent work is up front, namely a music video Avenue X and my passion project Whale.
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