Last night, BTMGer Chris Giles was presented the New Brunswick Joy award at the Silver Wave Film Festival. The award has a value of $16,500 comprised of PS Atlantic filmmaking equipment rental services ($10,000) and materials ($500), NB Film cash ($1,500), Kodak Canada film stock ($1,500) and NB Filmmakers' Cooperative equipment and post production facilities ($3,500).
I remember, back in the summer, Biff telling me that he'd been busy helping write a short film script. This was the result: Chris' story, scripted by him and Biff, submitted for this award. Now, as Chris, wearing sunglasses in the bright lights, said at the podium (with Margo Flewelling of NB Film and co-emcee Josh Linton), he has to make a film.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007
the tortoise and the hare
One early evening after a terrible storm a silky furred hare ventured
out of his subterranean home. He had been in his hole for many hours
and needed to stretch his anxious legs. Rounding a sage bush he
discovered his friend the tortoise lying on his back with a branch
cracked over his belly.
"My dear friend, let me help you... then we can race! You beat me before but I am better now, more wise," he said to the tortoise, quivering in anticipation.
He flipped the tortoise over and pulled back in alarm, taking in the
tortoise's crushed shell. He twitched, he ticked and he trembled.
His friend was not all the way out of his shell; only the tip of his
beaky nose and his clawed feet protruded.
"Come out, come out of your shell, my friend,” he said, “and we will
race!” The chill of the night swept around them, bring cold tears to
the hare's eyes.
"I cannot," said the tortoise's muffled voice, "for my shell is
cracked, and a shard is pointing at my heart. If I move it will
pierce me, I will die."
"But you must come out and race me. You will die if you don't come
out. Come out," said the hare, "you don't need that shell, you can be
free...! Come and run with me over that hill. See! There is a little
stream, a brook, a lake, some seaweed and snails... come, come, let us
race."
The hare stared deeply into the tortoise’s eyes. "Don't you see it?" he asked.
The tortoise looked over his old adversary's shoulder. He let out his
breath and felt a stab of pain.
"I do, I do see it. I will race you! I will win again, I will be free!"
The hare inhaled the early evening frost and started to run slowly,
"Come, my friend, you must run fast to catch me...!" His tears were frozen on his long lovely hare lashes.
"Come... come..." he breathed.
"I am coming!" said the tortoise, as he stretched his neck out and
pushed his legs free. His heart beat faster as his shell broke his
heart.
"I am coming! I am free, I am coming, I am free..."
And he ran after the hare, with greater speed then he ever demonstrated before.
out of his subterranean home. He had been in his hole for many hours
and needed to stretch his anxious legs. Rounding a sage bush he
discovered his friend the tortoise lying on his back with a branch
cracked over his belly.
"My dear friend, let me help you... then we can race! You beat me before but I am better now, more wise," he said to the tortoise, quivering in anticipation.
He flipped the tortoise over and pulled back in alarm, taking in the
tortoise's crushed shell. He twitched, he ticked and he trembled.
His friend was not all the way out of his shell; only the tip of his
beaky nose and his clawed feet protruded.
"Come out, come out of your shell, my friend,” he said, “and we will
race!” The chill of the night swept around them, bring cold tears to
the hare's eyes.
"I cannot," said the tortoise's muffled voice, "for my shell is
cracked, and a shard is pointing at my heart. If I move it will
pierce me, I will die."
"But you must come out and race me. You will die if you don't come
out. Come out," said the hare, "you don't need that shell, you can be
free...! Come and run with me over that hill. See! There is a little
stream, a brook, a lake, some seaweed and snails... come, come, let us
race."
The hare stared deeply into the tortoise’s eyes. "Don't you see it?" he asked.
The tortoise looked over his old adversary's shoulder. He let out his
breath and felt a stab of pain.
"I do, I do see it. I will race you! I will win again, I will be free!"
The hare inhaled the early evening frost and started to run slowly,
"Come, my friend, you must run fast to catch me...!" His tears were frozen on his long lovely hare lashes.
"Come... come..." he breathed.
"I am coming!" said the tortoise, as he stretched his neck out and
pushed his legs free. His heart beat faster as his shell broke his
heart.
"I am coming! I am free, I am coming, I am free..."
And he ran after the hare, with greater speed then he ever demonstrated before.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
More at the door!!!
Welcome!
Eric GaleWe want to hear your words . . . sung, whispered, spoken . . . burning treadmarks on the road
Kim Vose Jones
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