Quiet contemplation

After some quiet contemplation, it was clearly not gonna work.

Back in 2008, I think, Frankentown was going to be far more cartoony than it actually ended up being. It was envisioned as a short film. I've done my own pre-production and even shot some test footage, but it was coming apart at the seams. The story just wouldn't fit into six to twelve minutes. 


I studied modern UFO folklore to exhaustion. Coming from a CG school wasn't doing it any favors either. I wanted to make it believable. To give it some pull that would get embedded in the folklore and grow with and out of it. Many of the concepts in the book are in a sense, crowd-sourced. Theories of theorists, concurring ideas.


If you think of these stories (in some cases harrowingly scarring accounts), of close encounters as arrows pointing in differrent directions, some of them actually meet in interesting ways. That was the basic premise of sourcing from modern mythology. To add, I used my own experiences with ghosts. Many people, I'd even go as far as to say most, have had or will have such an experience during their lifetime. When you spend your summers in a country that was once ravaged by war, such things happen.
What if - it was all true? What sort of rules would apply?



A long time ago I wrote a short story about a fox who just wanted to sleep. He was living in a sublet, going out of his mind, deprived of sleep. The noise, unending, non stopping, incessant from the elephants living above. It was meant as a parable for the importance of sleep to the human machine.

If you're a wild animal- your cyrcadian rhythm is ordained by the sun coming up and setting. The body doesn't care it's just a screen, generating the light you concentrate on while you work.
How far removed from nature is an animal whose sun sets whenever the animal decides?

Alas the story is on a hard-disk that ceased functioning, so it will likely never be seen again. All I got left is this fox, out to investigate the source of the noises in the dark.

Symphony in D


Movie extraterrestrials are often so uniform. That's a hypocritical rebuke of best. The concepts of all these uniformities lie within us all; every alien movie you're likely to see, with the exception of Steven Spielberg, most focus on hostile alien invasions.

I've long felt that such stories act as fossilizing agents for the sort of xenophobia that arises out of modern-day globalization. It has convinced me that the one thing we can probably count on, should alien species ever show up, is hostilities of fear-struck masses below.  Aggression is one of the most common responses to perceived threat. 


But is it really that likely that such beings would perceive us as threats?


I wondered how a giant creature might not appear immediately of sinister persuasion to your random individual. I still don't know, but transparency in action helps put people at ease.