in this cave of simulacrum my brain does the mashed potato

Boy, what a week. Feels like I've just gotten back from a excursion to mars and now my feets be back on solid ground and feels all weird. What day is it anyway? Meh, doesn't matter.

Had a wheeley binload of dreams last night. Met Prince Harry, or the other one, what do I know about the royal family anyway? He seemed cool enough. We hung out at a party and I showed him where the bus to cardiff airport was and he gave me a 20 pound note as a tip. I told him that'd I'd tell him to fuck off with that shit if I wasn't so broke. He just laughed.

Also, met the woman who played lois lane in the last superman TV series (that would be Terri Hatcher then) at a party. Her hair was longer than it was on that series and she had dark blue lowlights. We were getting on really well but then my dream decided to shift patterns on me and then I was somewhere else.

There was more to these dreams... I was moving to manchester... Gabriel was on the train with me... No, it's gone. Nevermind.

I 'as got much more interesting things to talk about than the phantom smoke of dreams anyway (although, I think the overall message of the dream was - "Adam, you need to go party very very soon... your sanity may depend on it!"). For the past 5 days I have been on a film shoot helping hari with her final project for art foundation.

Basically, I was assistant director and co-cinematographer, as well as runner, Pseudoproducer and various other odds and sods. I worked like a fucking beaver on this film and very nearly went crazy, and if I worked like a fucking beaver Helen worked like a beaver on crystal meth. She was obsessive-compulsive to the upmost and would give Stanley Kubrick a run for his money in the perfectionist stakes. She shot an hour and a half of footage for a ten minute film, which is a ratio of 1:9... that's nearly ten minutes of rushes for one minute of screen time... Being surrounded by joyous 15 year olds (the cast) reminded me of how lame my own adolcense was, and how much of a loner I was (and still am, to a certain extent), and how these kids don't know how good they have it... blah blah... This self-pity did come much later in the shoot when I was really starting to lag both emotionally and physically. We finally wrapped yesterday which means I'm free, although Helen still has to record sound, tidy up her backgarden, return lighting equiptment and edit the motherfucker in imovie... If Hari's boyfriend Gary hadn't turned up on the third day there would of been little child corpses all over the patio...

But it was all totally worth it. Hari shot some awesome stuff and I did the best lighting of my existence. The set was fucking awesome! She reckons set-dressing may be her filmic calling. I reckon she just needs more practice on the other stuff. Her framing tends to be rather painterly which makes sense because when I met her 5/6 years ago painting was her thing.

Harriet's dad provided catering, transportation and ca$h. I've never eaten so well on a shoot, it was brilliant. He's one bad ass little cook, he is.

And the kids were great too, if not overly hyperactive in an annoying fashion. They shot loads of footage themselves on a little DigitalStillCamera with movie capture in a jackass-lite, montypythonesque fashion, even going so far as to spoof a scene from Helen's film. Hopefully, I should be able to get hold of a copy of both films, as well as some stills, which will of course go up here.

The film itself is based on the novel Riddley Walker by british author Russel Hoban. It's post-apochalyptic in the truest sense of the word and features some weird and wonderful use of language.

Coming back to my dream, I am actually planning on moving to Manchester when I finish my course. I so need a change of scene, Plus Hari, Gabriel and Matt are up there, and aparently there's alot of industry work up there, which means I can get a job that is a little more meaningful than office admin, manual labour, or servoid (do you want fries with that? Ice in your Manhattan?) work.

Oh yeah, and Manchester is a pretty cool city too!

So, what does the near future hold for Cecil B. Demented?

Well, I got my exit interview for the second year tommorrow, then I gotta get some agency work so I ain't broke over the summer, I'm moving to Newport at the end of July, I'm adapting a poem of mine into a short film for a grassroots thing, redoing the soundtrack and some pickups for my previous uni film with my production-mate Tim, as well as some other projects too, hopefully.

Okay, enough of this. My sister bethan wants to burn off a CD.

Toodles!

As long as I'm not bored it's alllll good.