deviantART: by:fusionrock

Psh

`fusionrock — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 21:01:08 PDT

Balls.

So hey.

`fusionrock — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 15:00:30 PDT

Michael Jackson is dead.

Just an FYI.

[link]

En Route [UPDATED]

`fusionrock — Mon, 25 May 2009 18:06:42 PDT

Originally, En Route was simply a scene with two bickering lovers who wreck and flip their car, causing an explosion. They escape and the scene ended with both walking away from the flaming car, still bickering.

From that point it evolved into something more sinister.

It was shot March 19th-21st in Berkeley and Moraga, California.

Enjoy.

[link] [UPDATED LINK, CLICK ON "EN ROUTE"]

If you enjoyed En Route, please visit [link] and show your support by signing up and following State of Chaos (You can even donate money to help with production. A feature that offers VIP perks!), a short currently in pre-production:

ÂA man wakes in a hellish chamber without a single memory. Passing in and out of nightmarish states, he's forced to put together the pieces of the puzzle of why he's there or endure an eternity of torture. A horrifying look into a demented world where the only way out is to search deep within.Â

Thank you.

Put 'Em In The Grave

`fusionrock — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 10:33:54 PDT

So I'm going to indulge myself. I'm gonna spit some self promotion to you all.

Two of the four films I've directed are up on my website: [link]

The fourth should be up by April 24th. The third is an abandoned project that nobody will ever see.

Mastodon - Crack the Skye

`fusionrock — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 13:45:52 PDT

HOLY SHIT.

This is probably the best album of the past five years.

Buy it!

Mad?!

`fusionrock — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 21:15:49 PDT

Blah blah blah life goes on.

Kurt Cobain: About A Son

`fusionrock — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 17:21:16 PST

I've watched "Kurt Cobain: About a Son" three times since acquiring it. Each time I watch it, I can't get over just how brilliant the simplicity of it is. The 'narration' (if one can call it that) is Kurt's own voice. This documentary is tragic, brilliant, beautiful, poetic and most of all, it paints the picture of a deeply affected young man struggling to stay sane in what he considers an insane world. The soundtrack is well picked, as well. Over all, this film left me with a feeling that I knew Kurt Cobain better. I understood his issues more clearly. I had a firmer grasp on what he was trying to accomplish against the flow of all of these perpetual negative emotions browbeating him day in and day out. I highly recommend this documentary. Buy it on Amazon.

OUT

`fusionrock — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 12:56:40 PST

here.

Devious Journal Entry

`fusionrock — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 08:00:27 PST

It's 8 in the morning and I'm in Final Cut Pro editing an old project that I never finished yet is marketable. Celtx is also open, as I am editing the 7th draft of a script I'm writing, which is set to shoot March 22nd, 23rd and 24th. I have to secure three locations, one of which requires negotiating with the county of Marin, CA. I am holding auditions for the roles in this next film on Sunday and Monday. I just got done with production and post-production on a professional project where I was chief sound engineer. My name's going on that DVDs credits.

For the first time in my life there's not enough hours in the day, and god damn I love it.

Haithar.

`fusionrock — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 15:46:19 PST

Why do you do what it is that you do?

Stress

`fusionrock — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 00:22:57 PST

You fuckers don't know stress until you've been on the shoot of a feature film.

For real.

On Federal Offenses

`fusionrock — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 12:40:31 PST

So some asshole decided it'd be a good idea to go through my mailbox and steal my gamefly return and netflix returns. As well as my state-issued ID. And various other things that I don't know about because I didn't get my mail.

Now I have to pay to replace the disc for Gamefly. Thank god Netflix is such a great company. They're paying for the disc replacements instead of blaming me like Gamefly is...

So, in short, don't use a traditional on-the-street mailbox, and don't ever use Gamefly; but use Netflix.

I will find you.

EW.

`fusionrock — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 01:06:36 PST

Sierra Mist is awful.

WTF.

`fusionrock — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 21:49:50 PST

I should NOT have to search in EVERY SINGLE store in Berkeley and Oakland for FROZEN VEGETABLES GROWN IN AMERICA.

Hrm?

`fusionrock — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 21:24:38 PST

When was the last time you told those around you how thankful you were that they were your friends?

Did they look at you all creepy-like and then walk away silently?

Yeah. That's what listening in elementary school gets you.

_{_{Â©2009 Kevin Winn.}}

Don't you fuckers ever read?

`fusionrock — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 23:03:09 PST

The White Ship
by HP Lovecraft

I am Basil Elton, keeper of the North Point light that my father and grandfather kept before me. Far from the shore stands the gray lighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are seen when the tide is low, but unseen when the tide is high. Past that beacon for a century have swept the majestic barques of the seven seas. In the days of my grandfather there were many; in the days of my father not so many; and now there are so few that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as though I were the last man on our planet.

From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. The old captains of the sea came often to my grandfather and told him of these things which in turn he told to my father, and my father told to me in the long autumn evenings when the wind howled eerily from the East. And I have read more of these things, and of many things besides, in the books men gave me when I was young and filled with wonder.

But more wonderful than the lore of old men and the lore of books is the secret lore of ocean. Blue, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. All my days have I watched it and listened to it, and I know it well. At first it told to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but with the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time. Sometimes at twilight the gray vapors of the horizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the ways beyond; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the sea have grown clear and phosphorescent, to grant me glimpses of the ways beneath. And these glimpses have been as often of the ways that were and the ways that might be, as of the ways that are; for ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and freighted with the memories and the dreams of Time.

Out of the South it was that the White Ship used to come when the moon was full and high in the heavens. Out of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently over the sea. And whether the sea was rough or calm, and whether the wind was friendly or adverse, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. One night I spied upon the deck a man, bearded and robed, and he seemed to beckon me to embark for far unknown shores. Many times afterward I saw him under the full moon, and never did he beckon me.

Very brightly did the moon shine on the night I answered the call, and I walked out over the waters to the White Ship on a bridge of moonbeams. The man who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me in a soft language I seemed to know well, and the hours were filled with soft songs of the oarsmen as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the glow of that full, mellow moon.

And when the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I beheld the green shore of far lands, bright and beautiful, and to me unknown. Up from the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and shewing here and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples. As we drew nearer the green shore the bearded man told me of that land, the land of Zar, where dwell all the dreams and thoughts of beauty that come to men once and then are forgotten. And when I looked upon the terraces again I saw that what he said was true, for among the sights before me were many things I had once seen through the mists beyond the horizon and in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had ever known; the visions of young poets who died in want before the world could learn of what they had seen and dreamed. But we did not set foot upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for it is told that he who treads them may nevermore return to his native shore.

As the White Ship sailed silently away from the templed terraces of Zar, we beheld on the distant horizon ahead the spires of a mighty city; and the bearded man said to me, ÂThis is Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Wonders, wherein reside all those mysteries that man has striven in vain to fathom.Â And I looked again, at closer range, and saw that the city was greater than any city I had known or dreamed of before. Into the sky the spires of its temples reached, so that no man might behold their peaks; and far back beyond the horizon stretched the grim, gray walls, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures.

I yearned mightily to enter this fascinating yet repellent city, and besought the bearded man to land me at the stone pier by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, ÂInto Thalarion, the City of a Thousand Won...

Edumacation

`fusionrock — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 23:01:40 PST

Beer, cigarettes and weed is what fuels me
Leading the forest straight out from the trees
Reading the word of God from up above
Hoping my problems cease, hoping for love
Jesus is blessed and Lucifer's cursed
Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, you are the worst.

No more false hope for ignorant masses.

Hi.

`fusionrock — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 16:57:23 PST

Blah blah blah blah about the weather and all.

Happy Holidays and all that jazz.

Luffs.

Valentine Days, Halloween Nights

`fusionrock — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 07:59:57 PST

Beneath these feet!
Underneath this thick concrete!
There used to be a sandy beach
But no one will ever know.

Flowers used to grow!

BENEATH THE PAINTED STARS!

Valentine days, Halloween nights!
These are supposed to be
the best days of our lives.
Now we're stuck in the middle!

OBAMANIA!

`fusionrock — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 21:42:13 PST

Who says hope is hopeless?

Are you the Anti-Mother?

`fusionrock — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 09:27:49 PST

Open that door; IÂll follow you into that space
Where nothing is regretted then forgotten
Where is that grace that carries me out? So strange itÂs mine
ItÂs closed and locked but If you open that door,
it wonÂt be yesterday when, before the days of collapsing,
And IÂll stand through all these lines just to make it back to you
Can you help me every step of the way? We can bury that battle and bury the cause
There is nothing that I can say because I was wrong this time
Everyone knows cause they see the glare in our eyes
Careful now, donÂt drown yourself in sorrow
I was the one that built that cross and weighed you down and now IÂll carry on till itÂs overÂ
and itÂs over.
Norma Jean - Robots 3 Humans 0

HiLo

`fusionrock — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 16:41:46 PDT

Penis pie pork pickle.
Ham ham shaka reaboo.
Olyphort contortilort.

Kanada Foo.

To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive.

`fusionrock — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 12:56:03 PDT

Every day I'm learning more and more that some of the people in this industry are really in it for themselves and would probably have you offed if the result was bettering their name.

Keeping my films as my own vision might be a challenge.

Modern Times

`fusionrock — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 01:41:26 PDT

Democracy is flawed in that citizens will categorically reject and ridicule those who speak of impending tyranny; when, in actuality, it is a very viable threat. America was founded on dissent, yet we mock those who choose to do so by voicing their opinion, however benign or corrosive to general complacency the notion may be. We dismiss these patriots as lunatics and return to the day-to-day routine: many of us unaware and poorly educated.

Point and Click

`fusionrock — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 18:30:41 PDT

Them scumbags
Them faghags
Short eyes
Dope dealers
Drive-bys
Faith healers
I'll be there
Far away
I'm floating above it all
Be there
I'll be there far away
I'll be there for you
I'll prove the holy road leads to
The snake charmers
The shoe hangers
I'll show you Sunday strollers too
The gangbangers
Spirit channelers
I wanna be the one for you
I'll be the one
I bought a gun
I wanna be the crowning jewel
To bad they won't believe me son
I'll be there floating above it all
I'll be there flaming
Waiting for you

Chant

`fusionrock — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 11:40:36 PDT

Six thousand men stood on top of this hill
Glorious chants rang as they guzzled their swill.
The men, all now ghosts, haunt me as I rest
Beneath this tree on this rocky hills crest.
The crows caw in mourning in the sky overhead
The wind in the trees is awakening the dead.
One arm emerges, displacing two rocks
Crippled with fear my senses are locked.
The cold is descending on the mortal below
The dead are arising, their hatred in tow.

Ventilago

`fusionrock — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 13:14:55 PDT

SON OF MY BITCH
I HATE THE WITCH
DON'T MAKE ME TWITCH
I'LL BREAK YOUR WRIST
INTO THE WEST WILL I GO
SEARCHING FOR VENTILAGO
OVER THE TOP, AN IDOL
WAVING A WAND TONIGHT, THOUGH
EVERYONE STOPS AND THEY STARE
FOR ALL THE PEOPLE WHO CARE
FOR THEIR SHINY, CURLY BLOND HAIR
SHIMMERING OH SO BRIGHTLY
I JERK IT TO HER NIGHTLY
SHE SCREAMS AND RUNS, AND RIGHTLY
I'M A SCARY GUY INSIDE ME

WHAT?!

`fusionrock — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 21:16:00 PDT

Yeah. I know.

Anyways, things are great. I've worked on 4 films, made one of my own, and am moving from SF to Berkeley within the next month.

V6 looks a lot like v5, and I'd wish they'd quit fucking with shit to make it 'look better.'