Adam the Alien
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Jan. 6, 2010 at 1:56am
Video: First Night 2010
First Night remains the best way to ring in the new year
Happy New Year! I'd hoped to have this up on the 1st, but sleep prevailed and then work and other such things took my days away. Click on the links below to check out all the musicians featured in the video.
Deborah Page:
http://www.deborahpagemusic.com/
Beehive:
http://www.beehivemusic.com/
Hey Marseilles:
http://www.heymarseilles.com/
And all the music toward the end is Kirsten Wenlock:
http://www.myspace.com/kirstenwenlock
The specific songs used under the montage were "Alright" and, of course, "Auld Lang Syne". Kirsten Wenlock was also responsible for what turned out to be a medley of "Natural Blues" and Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy". Which is, quite frankly, an even more apt description of 2009.
If you only watch my videos embedded here or elsewhere, please consider going straight to my YouTube channel and clicking the "subscribe" button, as well as going to this video's page to rate it and leave a comment. If you don't have a YouTube account to do this with, and have no intention of getting one, then just spread the video around. The more people that do these things, the more exposure I get and the more likely it is that I'll be able to focus more of my time on making videos.
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Jan. 6, 2010 at 1:17am
"Daydreamer" music video
First of two Dr. Noise music videos to drock your socks off
I don't normally like posting anything that's not specifically Tacoma-oriented on this blog - I have another blog for such purposes - but I just want to show off.
Back in October, I took a trip to Las Vegas. My friend, Dr. Noise, was putting on a concert. While I was down there, I also arranged to shoot a couple music videos for him.
The first of these, "Daydreamer" was uploaded a couple weeks back. Shot, directed and edited by yours truly. This is why I missed Week 28 of Frost Park this year.
The second music video I shot while I was there, "Greed", will be up sometime soon. I'll post again when it is.
If you only watch my videos embedded here or elsewhere, please consider going straight to my YouTube channel and clicking the "subscribe" button, as well as going to this video's page to rate it and leave a comment. If you don't have a YouTube account to do this with, and have no intention of getting one, then just spread the video around. The more people that do these things, the more exposure I get and the more likely it is that I'll be able to focus more of my time on making videos.
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Jan. 5, 2010 at 4:01am
C.L.A.W.'s Great Yearly Ceremony
An insidious cabal of insidiousness...and cake.
Last night, I snuck into the Pythian Temple. I'd heard a rumor that the evil secret society of evilness and evil known only as "C.L.A.W." would be meeting there for a grand ceremony.
The rumors were true, but little did I know that I would be exposing a secret plot to take over Tacoma in an upset of leadership and the brainwashing of four high-profile local personalities! This fearsome cabal is even planning on destroying the sacred Emmys! Take a look for yourself...if you DARE...
This particular video was made - somewhat hastily - for my collaborative channel, Vlogtag. I'll be posting another video on the event on my personal channel...eventually...someday...maybe...STOP NAGGING ME, DAMN IT! THIS IS WHY WE NEED MARRIAGE COUNSELING!
If you only watch my videos embedded here or elsewhere, please consider going straight to my YouTube channel - or in this case, my collaborative YouTube channel - and clicking the "subscribe" button, as well as going to this video's page to rate it and leave a comment. If you don't have a YouTube account to do this with, and have no intention of getting one, then just spread the video around. The more people that do these things, the more exposure I get and the more likely it is that I'll be able to focus more of my time on making videos.
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Apr. 3, 2009 at 9:06pm
The Return to Frost Park
Coming back to where the sidewalk ends
Today, I was in heaven.
I stepped off the bus on Commerce Street at Noon sharp. My hands shook with anticipation as I walked toward that familiar corner, the one I knew so well from many blissful Fridays throughout 2008.
I rushed across the street, drawing closer to what looked to me like a magical portal to another world. I walked quickly past bored strangers waiting for their buses. I saw the grass. I heard the fountain. Even the foul scent of a cigarette smoked by a man standing just around the corner, next to the fountain, couldn't ruin this moment.
I was back in Frost Park. I was back, and so was my weekly respite from the world: the Frost Park Chalk-Offs.
As I passed the plume of smoke lazily drifting away from the man with the cigarette and crested the hill, I caught my breath. There they were: the regulars, the familiar faces I'd longed to see. Some were already hard at work, kneeling over half-formed masterpieces on the sidewalk.
I was home.
Sometimes, when you step back into a treasured memory, it doesn't feel right. From the moment I set foot in the park, it felt even better than I remembered. How could I have let such a treasure fade, in my mind? I drank in the feeling of camaraderie, the smell of chalk and dirt and miscellaneous scents wafting from miscellaneous lunches.
It was a magical experience - one of those rare occasions when time slows down in spite of the fun being had. I was shocked when I heard people shouting that we had half an hour left to draw. By that point, I was sure there couldn't be more than ten minutes left.
I still can't believe how quickly it all came back to me. Nothing felt strange or forced about slipping back into the comfy old jacket that is Frost Park. There was nothing strange about seeing these people that, by and large, I hadn't seen in months. There was no awkward glancing about, wondering what to do. Even the tricks of chalking were not forgotten: though my brain was convinced that I was out of practice and would be starting my chalk skills from scratch again, my hands were not so easily fooled. They chuckled softly to themselves as they set about their task with the ease and familiarity of an old craftsman setting about his daily routine.
The mood was vibrant: the gap between Commerce Street and Pacific Avenue was filled with jovial chatter, laughter, the snaps of camera shutters and the smell and taste of delicious chocolate chip cookies. The park was alive in a way it hadn't been since we left it last Halloween.
Children ran this way and that, feeding off the incredible energy washing through us all. Passersby paused and watched. Some were already familiar with the phenomenon. Several told me how glad they were to see we were back. One man personally thanked us for what we were doing. He said Tacoma needed more things like it.
Stories were shared. Birthdays were celebrated. Frost Park thrived again.
And that, hard as it may be to believe, was only the beginning.
I can't wait until next week.
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Apr. 2, 2009 at 10:57pm
Frost Park: A community built in chalk dust
The Alien muses on a magical phenomenon
Whenever I mention Frost Park, most people outside of the Tacoma blogosphere just stare blankly at me like I'm speaking Tralfamadorian.
Most people in the Tacoma area have seen it. Many have stood inside it or walked through it without ever knowing. I don't blame them. When I first moved here, I didn't even realize it was considered an actual park, let alone one worthy of being named.
Frost Park is a tiny thing, tucked away between Commerce St. and Pacific Ave. on South 9th. Most people recognize it once I mention the fountain and the slightly curving stairs that run through it.
The park is named for Officer Larry Frost, killed in the line of duty on September 9, 1977. The park was dedicated to "all city employees who have sacrificed their lives while serving the citizens of Tacoma" on July 14, 1978, according to the park's plaque.
I first came to know Frost Park as something other than a random fountain I passed by on the bus when I was urged by my sister to join her and other Tacoma bloggers in gathering there for lunch.
The park had apparently acquired a bad reputation - in the eyes of many passersby, it was a place for hoodlums and drug dealers. Truth be told, I was wary of the place myself, for no other reason than it sits right next to a major bus transfer area. As a license-less young twenty-something, the bus is my main source of transportation. So believe me when I say that major transfer areas can be very skeezy, sometimes even scary places (as an example, I need only think back to the time I was cornered by an aggressive drunk man in a restroom at the Tacoma Transit Station; he was convinced one of the bags I was carrying was his).
This group of proud Tacomans (Tacomites? Tacomadorians?) gathered there every Friday at Noon to eat, mingle, network and - most importantly - to build and strengthen a community.
That wasn't enough for some, however, as I discovered when I arrived at the park one sunny April 11, 2008. I set my bag down, got ready for the usual mingling, and was immediately approached by someone who wanted to know if that was where the chalk competition was happening.
"Chalk competition?" I stared blankly. Clearly, this man was speaking Tralfamadorian.
At this point, I neither frequently checked the major Tacoma blogs nor subscribed to receive e-mails from Tacoma's Arts Listserv. So I had no idea that local artist R.R. Anderson, creator of the infamous Tacomic, had challenged all comers for the illustrious title of "Best Illustrator in the Universe of Tacoma".
The sidewalk served as their battlefield, each artist staking their claim on a single slab of cement canvas. Anderson brought with him a small amount of white chalk to distribute amongst the competitors. A theme was chosen (an occurrence that would not repeat in subsequent weeks) and, before a crowd of enthralled onlookers, the drawing began.
The chalk supply was slim. The method of judging hadn't been figured out. The idea of acquiring their own colored chalk as an alternative to the small sticks of classroom blandness. But it was the start of something incredible.
In the twenty-nine weeks that followed, Frost Park became more than just a park, more than just an hour of chatter during the lunch hour. It became a home. It became a way of life.
It became a community.
Frost Park became the the highlight of my week. There were regulars - artists and non-artists alike - who showed up almost every time without fail. There were newcomers nearly every week, and always at least a few passersby who would muster up the courage to ask what was going on. Even I, a self-conscious artist whose drawings usually end up in the trash can, began throwing my hat into the chalk-dusted ring.
Through sun and rain, sleet and snow, Frost Park's weekly slice of a better world persevered. And it grew.
From cell phone pictures to short films, it grew.
From the promise of an invented title to sponsored prizes, it grew.
From a box of white chalk to a plethora of colors, to free food and musical performances, it grew and grew and grew.
From a tiny, little-noticed park with a bad reputation to a community, a haven from the harsh realities of the real world...it grew.
It became the non-alcoholic real-life equivalent of a warm, friendly sitcom bar. It really was the place where everybody knew your name. It held more magic in it for people of all ages than any world imagined in the most beloved works of fiction.
All good things, however, must eventually come to an end. Tragically, the chalk competitions came to a close for the winter after thirty weeks. The final week was gloomy and wet, as if the very weather were mourning the loss of our weekly rebellion against the accepted norms of adult life.
In the absence of my weekly escape. Without a wardrobe to escape into or a rainbow to fly over, the extraordinarily long, cold winter felt even colder and a lot longer.
The winter, at long last, is over.
Tomorrow, Frost Park is back in action.
Once more we will descend as one upon Officer Frost's namesake.
Once more we will build a community out of chalk dust and concrete.
Some people won't understand. Some will stare at us blankly.
Let them. I'm proud to speak Tralfamadorian.
I'm proud to be a Frost Park Chalkie.
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Apr. 1, 2009 at 10:46pm
Blog Every Day April
The April Fool
I'm an April Fool.Not just today, oh no...I'm literally a fool this entire month of April. A complete and undefendable idiot.
You see, this April is BEDA (Blog Every Day April), and I - fool that I am - have chosen to participate.
BEDA was declared when author Maureen Johnson decided that she was going to write a blog every single day during the month of April. So, on March 28, the news hit Twitter:
"So many things to do today in preparation for Blog Every Day April. (which is just something I made up for myself and not an actual THING.)"
By announcing it to the world, though, Johnson effectively made it an actual thing. Bloggers of all venues have flocked to the idea. Alex Day, the popular YouTuber known as Nerimon, adapted it for video bloggers and created VEDA (Vlog Every Day April).
I wasn't sure if I was going to jump on this particular bandwagon. It's one thing to log on to DailyBooth.com and snap a photo every day (a task I've failed at several times already), but to actually write something or edit a video every single day? Even this morning, I was waffling back and forth between facing the challenge or being, as I saw it, "realistic."
After all, this is hardly the time to be taking more things on. I'm looking for a job, I'm trying to finish up old projects even as I'm getting set to start filming my feature-length adaptation of Destiny of the Gnome, the short film I shot for Tacoma's annual 72 Hour Film Competition last year. Add my Eastertime obligations as the sound technician for a local church, helping other people with various projects, practices and potential performances with the improv group I'm in and the Frost Park sidewalk chalk competitions starting up again and you'll see that April is a crowded month.
There are a million reasons why I shouldn't even try this. Strangely enough, that's exactly why I need to.
I'm notorious for taking a long time to finish things. I wouldn't have nearly as much on my plate right now if this weren't the case. At the very least, I would certainly be a great deal less stressed about what is on my plate. Clearly, this is a bad habit that needs to change.
I've tried for years to address the symptoms, without very much success. It's time to cut out the root of this life-long problem: brain crack.
"Brain crack" is a term from the popular video blog, The Show with Ze Frank. In the episode titled "washington, ideas, brain crack", Frank describes brain crack as ideas that are left perpetually unfulfilled due to a person's belief that they aren't yet capable of doing it "right."
"Some people get addicted to that brain crack," Frank notes in his video. "And the longer they wait the more they convince themselves of how perfectly that idea should be executed."
Brain crack ideas are those ideas we all have that we're sure are beyond our current capabilities. So we put them off, deluding ourselves with the notion that if we do it later, surely we'll have better experience and resources to complete that wonderful idea. In our minds, they grow in size the longer they exist. In the meantime, no experience is gained. No resources are acquired. Those things only come when we throw our ideas out into the world, like a mother bird forcing her babies to fly or plummet to their death.
It's taken me a long time to realize, but the vast majority of my problems in life stem from a severe addiction to brain crack.
I'm a perfectionist; I don't like to give up and say I'm done until I feel something is the best it could possibly be. This has afflicted every aspect of my life: videos, screenplays, articles, drawings, Christmas presents and cleaning. It's even the root source of why I had such a hard time, in high school, turning in incomplete math assignments. My perfectionistic need to do something right or not at all surmounted the logic that some credit would have been better than no credit at all.
I've made slow progress over the years. I've learned to disappoint myself, grudgingly declaring something complete that I believe is flawed. Inevitably, whatever it is recieves high praise from many sources, but I can never really convince myself to accept that at face value. There's always something wrong with it, something I wish I could have fixed. Something that I tell myself I'll go back and fix...someday. When I can do it "right".
BEDA, then, is exactly what I need to break myself of brain crack. A daily opportunity to flex my idea muscles. A blog a day to keep the brain crack away. So I'm going to give this my best shot.
I'm going to post one written blog and one video every day during the month of April. I'm not going to let it interfere with the things I have to do. The posts may not be long. The videos may not be perfect. I may not make it the whole month.
But I'll have tried. And, in doing so, I'll have told that perfectionist brain crack addict living inside me that it's time for him to go. It's time to experiment, time to make mistakes...time to just get out there and try, perfection be damned.
It's time to be a fool.
*This post is being re-posted from my main blog on wordpress. I'm re-posting the initial BEDA entry here on FeedTacoma because I believe this - and the video below this note - will be of interest to many of the folks here. Please tell me in the comments if you think I should or should not continue posting my BEDA entries on FeedTacoma. Either way, you can follow me on my main blog or subscribe to my videos on YouTube.
Today's video:
Today's DailyBooth snapshot:
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Sep. 5, 2008 at 4:31pm
Calling all filmmakers, videographers
New film/video production group to have first meeting today
A new group for Tacoma-area folk interested in making movies - short, long or waffle-shaped - is meeting for the first time tonight at 7pm. The group is currently set up as a Yahoo group under the name Tacoma Video. Here's a word from the founder:
Summer distractions are behind us. It's time to make art.Tacoma Video will hold its first meeting Friday, Sept 5, 7pm at One Heart Cafe, right next to the Grand Cinema.
Come to discuss your projects or just to help on a production. Four different area groups are being accessed to form this local group; Indie League, Film 101, Seattle Film & Video Production Network and interested members of prior Tacoma Film Festivals. Feel free to pass this on to anyone that may be interested in helping out on a production.
- Charles Ames
If you don't know who Charles is, he's also the founder of the Tacoma/Lakewood-area improv troupe, The Tokens. Watchful Feedtacoma denizens may also remember his portrayal as The Producer in my short mockumentary, Destiny of the Gnome.
I know it's pretty short notice to be posting this here, but I would encourage anyone who can make it to come. Madcap hijinks are bound to ensue.If you can't make it, there will be future meetings, so mark it down on your calendar.
| Date: | Friday September 5, 2008 | |
| Time: | 7:00 pm - 9:00 pm | |
| Repeats: | This event repeats every month on the first Friday. | |
| Location: | One Heart Cafe, 604 Fawcett Ave, Tacoma | |
| Street: | 604 Fawcett Ave | |
| Notes: | Right next door to the Grand Cinema. |
If you're not familiar with either Charles or myself, just watch for a crazy-looking guy in a white hat. That's me.
Thanks for taking this photo, Darkain. I love it!
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May. 13, 2008 at 2:25pm
The closing of Gringo de Loco
From a weekly delivery guy's perspective.
For those that haven't read it on the Spew, or on Kevin's blog, Gringo de Loco - the "blues-inspired" Mexican restaurant on Pacific Avenue - is closing.
Honestly, it doesn't really surprise me...I've been watching the number of unread Stranger copies I have to carry back to the delivery van increase more and more (for those who don't know, I assist a man named Christian in delivering a free publication called The Stranger around Tacoma - related video blogs here and here). The statement on the site is correct - the old management may have had a small draw, but it got smaller. Under the old management, they'd go through about a bundle (25 copies) of The Stranger every week. When the old managers vanished, I was carrying most of that bundle back to the van every week. We cut them down to 15 copies a few weeks back, and I was still carrying most of it back.
It is kind of sad, given the circumstances. Not only did the new owners take on management of a Titanic-esque situation, but they found themselves between a rock and a hard place in terms of customers. They seemed to be having a hard time drawing new customers - possibly because many people still saw it as they did upon first entering La Costa: a dump. A new paint job and new signage on the front, unfortunately, doesn't make enough people look at a spot without thinking of what used to be there. In the meantime, though, their changes made the existing customer base pretty much vanish.
I think they may have fared at least a little better, even in spite of the sinking ship they took on, if there had been more of an obvious switch-over. As it was, delivering there every week, it never felt like, "Okay, La Costa has closed and this new place is here." It just felt like, "Eh, the sign changed. Whatever." I was in the premises every single week, and I never felt tempted by the changes to give it a chance - and I'm a guy who's tempted by a lot of the places I stop at.
I regularly eat at a number of places I deliver to because I liked the feel, the smell and the people during my brief moments inside. And I have to confess, I was more tempted by the people (though not the feel or the smell) of La Costa's old regime than Gringo de Loco. I always had a warm, friendly greeting from them, even though I wasn't there to eat. After the management switch (and, admittedly, the moving of the free publication racks to a crappy place under a counter where they were harder to see) I no longer felt like I should give the place a try due to the friendly nature of the people running it. I'm sure the new management was friendly, too...but I never met them.
I didn't feel, to me, like a new place...but it didn't feel like the old place, either. In light of that, they never really had a chance.
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May. 6, 2008 at 9:53pm
Destiny of the Gnome - the 72 Hour Film Festival's missing film
Edward A. Murphy, Jr. strikes again...
This last weekend, I participated in the 72 hour film contest. I completed a film. On time. It did not, however, ever make it down to the Grand Cinema to be turned in. The first half of the following video is the film itself...the second half explains the rest.
CAST (in alphabetical order)
The Producer: Charles Ames
R.R. Anderson: R.R. Anderson (scenes deleted - watch for the extended cut!)
Bubbles: Hillary Barzilla
Bob Gasse: Paul Ford
Steve Buck: Gadsby Glasrud
Sid O. Koo: Nathe Lawver (scenes deleted - watch for the extended cut!)
Delouise DeLuise: Andrea Trenbeath Lowen
William Power: Adam J. Manley
Constance Lee Gasse: Kristie Worthey
CREW (in no particular order)
Adam J. Manley: Director/Producer/Editor
Charles Ames: Assistant Director, Cookie Corraling
Kristie Worthey: Cookie Continuity
Hillary Barzilla: Cookie Crumbling
Paul Ford: Cookie Consuming
Andrea Trenbeath Lowen: Bubble Blower
Nathe Lawver: Narrator
The solemn music at the end is "Everything is Going to Be Okay" by Sad Music for Happy Humans. Check SMfHH out at www.happyhumans.org or at myspace.com/sadmusicforhappyhumans. The music that interrupts it is a generic royalty-free sample loop.
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Apr. 27, 2008 at 12:14am
Frost Park: Where the Sidewalk Ends
Video from the first week of the chalk competition
So, I was looking for something to title my video from a few weeks back, of the first Frost Park chalk contest. "Frost in Chalk" wasn't cutting it, nor was any variation on the tired old "chalk it up" phrase - especially as that had been used already in this very blogosphere.
It wasn't until I found a familiar poem that I knew I'd found the perfect match.
There is a place where the sidewalk endsAnd before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
- "Where the Sidewalk Ends" by Shel Silverstein
As far as I'm concerned? For at least one hour every Friday, Frost Park is where the sidewalk ends.
If you go to the YouTube page and click "view in higher resolution" you can get significantly better quality - I haven't uploaded it anywhere else yet, though. I know, I know...I should.
More videos to come, in no promised timeline; the video blog is something I do in between other projects, as a way of relaxing. As such, I refuse to let this pressure me, too. Especially when I was having just so much bloody fun with this one.
About
YouTube Channel:
http://youtube.com/adamthealien
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http://www.youtube.com/vlogtag
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