I'm Back From Austin!! OR Holy Shit it's Halloween!! OR Lindsay Lohan's Nipples!!

Firstly, I have to say that I've been gone for awhile. I'm sorry. I've missed you dearly. I was in Texas.

Ok, now pick up the granola bar you just dropped and tune in for a sec. I went to Texas, yes. I didn't post before I went, I know, but I assure you that it was for both our sakes. Why write when the trip hasn't happened yet? Exactly, I knew you'd see my point - you always do.

Last week I attended the Austin International Film Festival's Screenwriter Conference held at the Driskill and Stephen F. Austin Hotels in downtown Austin, Texas.

That's a lot of capitals.

Over the course of the four or five days I was there [because free beer makes you forget] I went to panels held by screenwriting and filmmaking vets alike, partied at private functions & on Austin's 6th street, and had some very, very interesting and valuable experiences.

Was it worth the almost $2000 it cost me to attend? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Absolutely; it was completely and totally invaluable to what now feels like will be my career. I am in debt to many people for pointing me in Austin's direction, for coaxing me to go. I won't name names here because you know who you are, and simply, for sake of brevity.

It was great. You are great.

Next, a definition:

Hal‧low‧een  /ˌhæləˈwin, -oʊˈin, ˌhɒl-/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[hal-uh-ween, -oh-een, hol-] Pronunciation Key -
–noun
the evening of October 31; the eve of All Saints' Day; Allhallows Eve: observed esp. by children in costumes who solicit treats, often by threatening minor pranks.


Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm crazy but, doesn't this strike you as a little... odd? The first thing that comes to mind when I read this is, and I don't think I'm alone here, what little bastards these children are [at least by definition]. Halloween at my future house, when I've grown up of course, will be something like this:

KIDS: (knocking)
ME: (opens door)
KIDS: Trick-or-*SOK!*

That's me punching them square in the mask. How's that for a trick?

Trick-or-PUNCH; that's the system. After an hour I may throw in a kick or two for good measure but, generally speaking, that's how it will work. I think, for added effect, I may also dress up as a teddy bear or something equally innocuous so as to lull them into a false sense of security before the attack.

KID: Mommy, it's a teddy-bear! Like Mr. Binkies at home!
MOTHER: (smiling complacently)

Then *BIFF* - bear paw right in the mouth-hole. Try eating candy after getting mauled you little prick. I guess this would be a good opportunity to grab their candy bag, before they bleed all over it, and close the door.

Am I cynical? Perhaps. Am I a capitalist? Indeed.

And that brings me to Lindsay Lohan's Nipples.

Those of you here via Google, Yahoo, or some other pervert-express are no doubt in shock, disbelief, and utter flaccidity that nowhere on this page are Lindsay Lohan's nipples. I assure you this was nothing more than a ploy, and at the behest of others, to lure you here for sake of hits alone. Send me messages of hate.

YOU'VE BEEN HAD!

Now that's a lot of capitals.

The Truth of the Matter

I'm sure you're familiar with Plato (the philosopher, not the stuff you ate when you were three). He has this theory that, I think, fits very well into what we're doing here in life, trying to understand one another and in artistic expression.

Plato wrote within semiotics, the study of signs and symbols, of the 'referent,' 'signified,' and 'signifier.'

He has this notion of the 'perfect chair' - the chair that you think of when I tell you to think of a chair.

When I say chair, you think:


Chairs, as our brain (and Google images) will immediately tell us, are wooden, four legged objects with a flat spot to sit on, and an upright back. This, generally speaking, is as close to the idea of 'chair' as is humanly possible - for no image is as perfect as the imagined image of chair. In this example the actual picture of the chair is the signifier; the signifier is the image of the chair whether on paper or perceived by our retinas. The referent is the actual chair because this is what the signifier, or image, literally refers to. Lastly, the idea of 'chair' is the signified because, at the end of the day, the photo, the actual chair, and all the hard work that's gone into producing both is, you guessed it, the signified notion.

I have a theory -- it's somewhat undeveloped and even a little crude to some, I'm sure, but I have a general theory that's roughly based on Plato's system, and it's the fundamental force behind my creativity and creative expression. My extension to Plato's theory can be surmised, simply, in one word:

Truth.

Each time I sit to write this notion is in my head. Each time I take a picture, film a scene, and even speak with another person, this idea is at the most forefront of my thoughts. What is the signified truth of the situation, the moment, the scene, the action? Every single moment and thing and action and inaction can be reduced to the purest motivation. It's simple, really.

Everyone has taken a picture before. We know how to point the camera, click the button, and capture the image - but what separates the casual photographer from the professional?

Truths. Signifieds.

Each time a professional artist acts to portray something (either on film, video, paper etc.) he or she is really trying to capture the true essence of the circumstance, the perfect incarnation of the referent - this is what makes the artwork relatable, universal.

A good picture is one that will show it's subject(s) in a way in which we can all relate to it; it will show its subjects in a universal light. It's this universality that is embedded in all of our unconscious minds, and that creates relativity.

Thus, a good written scene is also one that's relatable. The perfect truth of a situation lies in capturing the essence of character and the subtle nuance of human interaction and timing; it's about making things real and identifiable.

Relatability, on the other hand, does not hinge, for example, on the audience's intimate knowledge of a specific situation but, more broadly, on the feelings and prescribed notions that come part and parcel with said situation. If we as the audience are unconsciously compelled to feel a part of the portrayal, then the artwork has succeeded in being true and in turn accurately (or as close to accurately as possible) represents the signified notion.

It's funny how this works, really, and how attuned to it I've become. It's a familiar feeling for me, when watching a movie or seeing pictures or written work that strikes me as true. I'll smile, sometimes laugh, amazed by the perfect composure of the work, and an intense relation strikes me like a tack hammer. I haven't lived the situation, sometimes, but it's exactly its essence, and it's tangible; it's perfect.

It's significant.

I think, also, it's important to stress the universality of this principle. I could walk into my kitchen and take a picture of a placemat, and sure, it would be a picture of a placemat, but there exists, out there, the most perfect image of a placemat that could possibly exist, and when each of us look upon it we realize that this is exactly it. This, and nothing else, is a placemat. For every single meal from here until the day I die, this is the laminated piece of plastic that I want to eat off of.

And this, finally, is the struggle that we all face. Life is the pursuit, not only of happiness and fulfilling our desires, but the pursuit of the signifieds; and whether they exist or not, we will always seek them out and step over one another to catch a brief glimpse.

It's writing, however, that gives me the opportunity to create signifieds, truths. Each time I put the pencil to the page I am striving for something unique, interesting, and captivating, but that is entirely able to be realized and felt by any audience that comes in contact with it. I'm striving for the Truth, and who knows if I'll ever find it.

If it were up to Clint Eastwood, I just may never; but if it were up to Play-Dough... well, I just might have a shot.