don't blame me. i voted for the mothman.

this isn't about a movie
this is real fucking life
nine hours into the drive i want to close my eyes
we're south on the route 7 detour and the three cars in our caravan loose sight of each other
and it makes me too nervous to sleep so i call them
and they got a flat so they're changing it on the side of the highway at 4 am
so we in the vibe and the others in the stratus, we groggily call the other to find a place to wait
for the buick
and there is nothing, not a streetlamp or a telephone wire
lights appear on the horizon and stay there, the gps can't tell us shit
we pass a church and decide to keep going instead of u-turn,
the same thing happens again with another church, a ranch, a decrepit floodlit plantation house
and finally we pull into an adult video arcade
where the air is cold and clammy and the semis have nestled in for the night
the girls say they can see one of them jerking off in the truck and i'll take their word
the buick calls to say they're back on the road
and then again to say they just blew the donut
and a little light comes into the air and lame jokes and the eighth through tenth too many cigarettes are passed around
and what do we do?  much too much speed-smeared thought goes into this question
we follow the gps up a mountain to a tire store that probably doesn't exist and if it did... but it's too much to even think about and we escalate until most of our signals die and then we turn back because
the buick's calling aaa and we're gonna wait with them
so we backtrack about nine miles,
park at a long farm driveway with a peeling plank advertising "FRESH EGGS"
and cirrus trails cross one another and pop out of the brightening sky pink, orange and yellow
but where are the planes?
we laugh, almost sleep but can't, get gawked at by locals, take memorable photos, imagine being shot at or taking a dump behind a silo, can't imagine the shape we'll be in by the time we're back on the road
i climb through the sunroof and smoke on top of the car,
i ride with the tow driver and billy back to point pleasant, wv and the others follow us
he tells us we're next to the only north-running river he's ever heard of beside the nile
he tells us we're in the hometown of the mothman,
the sun hurts, the air hurts, the world hurts and weighs on my consciousness and this is the kind of thing i ought to be dreaming instead of living
why the fuck did i eat at mcdonalds next? (breakfast in point pleasant unless we wanted something fancy, says the tow man)
can't finish my second sausage biscuit, smoke another cigarette at the mothman park, finish mccafe
poke around the mothman museum and resist  a t-shirt of cornstalk's last stand and the world's only mothman frappuccino,
appear in more bitching photos next to the mothman statue that commemorates his tattered wings, his amber eyes, his incredibly muscular abdomen
i think we put on the stones or mott the hoople on the way out of town, but who can remember something like that?
i got high and finally slept on the west virginia turnpike, the most wicked road i've ever encountered
my grandfather literally said it was his idea of hell but i didn't remember that either.  my dad had to tell me.

Film

i got my film back from the first shoot today. from what i can tell it resembles a real motion picture. Yes!

full on from here.

Location scouting! Mini Horses

I was driving to my grandma's today and i saw a small animal zoo behind a gas station right at the Xonia exit off 94.

I went in and asked if i could shoot a scene for Heavy Hands there and they said they would have to call me back.

i went home and was watching lost and they called back and said not only could i shoot there but they would love it if i did. they have mini horses and bunnies and little donkeys and other stuff.

it was too dark at that point to take pictures but i will post some when i go back in a couple weeks. when you see when i'm talking about you might be excited too. Goes to show that if you want something you have to ask. otherwise you can't complain about not getting it.

My brother has a reading in Milwaukee with John Coletti and others on thursday. should be fun.

email me at worldwidedirt@gmail.com if you want to know where it is. as always i welcome questions and suggestions about Heavy Hands.

may fire walk with all of us
sean

Film and New York and monster slices

Hey all,

just sent in my first test roll to Pro 8mm and will be getting it back in a day or two. pretty excited, its from a roll i shot in Washington park which if you aren't familiar is on the west side of Milwaukee.

me and Tanya and Heather B acted in that shoot and Parker ran the camera. I think at least something will turn out and look cool. really what more can you hope for in these turbulent times. Carter the dog also made an appearance.

I'm not sure if I'll use any of it even if it is good because I'm buying an new camera with 16x9 capabilities so i think I'll shoot it wide screen.

Also I'm going to New York for The Modus screening at IFC which should be good and hopefully i can generate some Heavy Hands interest along the way.

I had a slice of pizza last weekend that was bigger than a Jacks frozen. just cause you asked.

more soon

love sean

!!!! Heavy Hands !!!!

Well good evening,
Good evenings,

In regards to my film tentatively titled Heavy Hands

I came back to the area around my house yesterday to do “location scouting” (I’m going to put anything that sounds official in “ ” to avoid sounding like a: I know what I’m doing- Which I don’t or B: like I’m important-which I’m not. Maybe to myself I am. Anyhoot…)

Basically because I don’t really know what I’m doing I’m going to log everything I’m doing on this blog to keep it straight in my head, remember what I did and who did it with me. Not a very concise paragraph.

Also I believe that your “passion” be it film, painting, photography, writing, horseback riding, pig wrestling, fashion, music, cooking, learning stuff, teaching stuff, helping people, construction, whatever should bring the people in your life together. So this blog and the website that will follow will be a way for people involved in the film as well as those that are just interested to see my “process” as I make Heavy Hands.

Also it provides the opportunity for everyone to give me suggestions as well tell me I’m stupid for doing things one way or another. (Which I won’t listen to but will keep me in check and maybe hurt my feelings)

Heavy Hands is a film (BW Super 8) about a bunch of fucked up country criminals who get back at each other and stuff. (That’s the official blurb.)

So I’m looking for good country, outdoor locations to shoot a variety of scenes (suggestions?)

My email is worldwidedirt@gmail.com

Here are some of the shots I took yesterday and today.

(all these sentences are coming out awkward. I would say that it’s because it’s late. But one AM is my 2:30 PM)

this is on a really empty road next to this crazy tower below.

Below are pictures from an abandoned motel outside of Fort Atkinson. I went by myself and it was scary.

Anyway thats all for now. Have to maintain some mystery right?

thanks for lookin.

going back to milwaukee city

I get sick and vomit ice

When I climb condos

I get the ice crystals in my blood

When your hot tears lap your cheeks

My breath turns to smoke when you smile

And I fall asleep every time a bell rings

I dream whenever branches creek across the gap

And my dreams know who’s the president and who I’m in

Love with and how long I’ve been an astronaut and how

I got diabetes but it never knows when it’s over and

It’s always blinking when it’s supposed to begin

And sometimes my headache is a distant car alarm

And sometimes it over-inflates my cock

And sometimes my hands ache from too much fidgeting

And sometimes it’s because I lost my gloves

And they hurt so bad I wish I could cut them off at the armpit,

At the bottom of my left ventricle

And sometimes the air could be sand

And I hiccup it all night

Sometimes my skin doesn’t belong on my body

Sometimes I know that a good night’s sleep will medicate me

And sometimes I Ludivico myself for days at a time

Until my eyeballs become one with the air and gasp for me to cry

And sometimes I wonder if the comatose don’t get too sad

If they never dip below melancholy then I’m in

And more people love me in real life than in my dreams

But I love more freely in the farmlands of my dreams

I whisper craziness in hot ears

And kiss girls while they’re behind the wheel

And in real life I shake involuntarily

My brain goes gray and my lungs go black

My teeth hurt and I use vodka to cure my cold

In real life, I try to give back what I receive

And am lost to find the what’s genesis

I look at the people in the next train car

And are they just like me and faking it

Or is that how people like me really behave?

Sincerity is impossible if you don’t mean anything

Intimacy is impossible if you don’t really exist

It’s not that I can’t love

It’s just that I never get around to it

I get distracted easily by soft hands and peekaboo armageddons