that "to do" list looks mean

Oh Angry To-Do list, why do you stare at me so? Unassuming little yellow post-it, easily movable from place to place, never really sticking, but always lingering. Loitering. Burning holes in my flesh! Yes, I see you. Covered in my own handwriting, waiting for items to be crossed off, deleted, eliminated. You are waiting for the moment when I crumple you up and put you in the garbage can. This is your destiny and you are destroying me in your process of self-actualization!

*Application to Chapman
*Application to Asian University for Women
*Application to Interlochen
*Edit short video for second competency
*Work on reading list


Simple enough, right? Except the applications each involve compiling so much data including portfolio, personal statements, transcripts, vita, writing samples, etc.

Short video means going through all the footage I hate from Hungary and salvaging some kind of short little film together that represents my skills as a video editor.

Reading list? 40+ books to knock out by the end of April.

Dear lord! Grant me the strength! The courage, the wisdom! Or any of these three things!

Wilson and I are going to go for a run and then...I should have cleared some head space to make some headway. Or so I hope.

Aug. 3 - Installation and ROCKTOGON

Yesterday was BUSY.  After a super late night out with Candida and Daniel and an intense amount of red wine consumed, I awoke fuzzy-headed and a little bit dumb.  I had to reprint one of my images for the exhibition and walked all the way to the print shop without my disc!  So I turned around, walked back, met up with Marlene, and we went back to the shop.  Then the guy printed my image on PAPER, not photo Paper, so I had to go back a THIRD time.  Just as I was re-framing the image and cleaning the frames, Beata swoops in like a storm and the day of installation of all our art work at the Mucius Gallery begins.

We were there for a few hours, helping out, but Mucius hired a professional installer to hang all the pieces, which was pretty convenient.  Patricia couldn't seem to find a decent place to hang her long crocheted (with plastic and wire) piece inspired by the Chain Bridge, and all the while she's been making it, I've been calling it a pacsmina - it really looked wearable.  Resigned not the exhibit the piece, I asked if I could wear it during the exhibition!  And she was delighted!  So, I'll be the walking exhibition of the show, the Hungarian girl wearing the Chain Bridge and I'm very honored!  

Later, we met with Beata for dinner on the Buda side and had a lovely evening with great food, great wine and great conversation.  It was the last night all of us were together as Patricia left for home at 5 am this morning.  She's missing the exhibition, which really sucks.  But I've promised her lots of pictures! 

After dinner, we dashed to the tram to avoid the light rain.  Again, I forget my umbrella, so on the way out of the restaurant, I grabbed a Metro newspaper and fashioned a lovely rain-blocker tent over my head.  Patricia asked me "Are you cold?" and I said, straight as can be, "Why no, this Hungarian newspaper keeps me both warm and dry."  For some reason, this just came like I was a walking advertisement for the miracle that is the Hungarian newspaper and its versatile uses!  It's not just newspaper anymore, it's an urban necessity!  A giggle-fest ensued. 

Once back, we futzed around looking for a less smoky place to have a last drink with Patricia.  I had noticed this bar around the corner from us when I first got here, called ROCKTOGON. Though a stone's throw from our hotel, we'd never ventured there, it just looks so bad!  A total metal bar.  Like Harpo's or something.  And This may not seem HILARIOUS at first, but our neighborhood is called Oktogon and the play on words is an irresistable invitation for a million bad rock jokes and puns of our own.  Did we dare test the power of such a formidable sounding rock bar?  Were we rockin' enuff for this place?  It was Patricia's last night in town and she voted that yes, indeed, we rock enuff.  Right as we're walking past Kiado, Marlene says real loud, "Let's go to Rocktogon!" and the guy in front of us turns around and stares at us in horror. And to our horror, it's the bartender at Kiado that's a real hard-case.  We call him "Meanie." And we were so unbelievably embarrassed - usurping our usual Kiado for ROCKTOGON and then going public with it is a CONTROVERSIAL and DANGEROUS social move!  We had no choice then but to stay to true our rockin' selves and boldly go to the home of heavy metal in Budapest.  

Laughing our asses off, we entered ROCKTOGON and were sorely disappointed.  This place doesn't rock!  At least not on Mondays.  It was silent and empty!  But the beer was super cheap and we were left alone. Literally, because there was only one other group of people in the whole bar - young kids listening to a radio they brought in and singing along to Linkin Park and Creed.  THEY ROCK!  The decor was a kick-ass supply of posters of Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden and equivalent versions of Hungarian rock bands.  We just laughed and laughed the whole time there and got the bartender to take our photo, showing off our versions of the Jesus-Gang-Gesture meets the Rock-On-Devil-Horns.  

As you walk in to ROCKTOGON, there's a wall of fame.  Signed press photos of no one I recognize.  Some of the frames were empty.  Methinks it would be a great idea to take a ROCK photo of us, sign it, and install it in the ROCKTOGON.  That would rock!

I woke up today, alone in my room.  I miss Patricia!  Almost everyday she got up before me, but when I'd wake up she'd say "Good morning, dear" and we'd plan our day ahead.  I really loved having her as my roommate!  Now I'm all alone!  

After breakfast I ventured out, in search of a dress for tonight's opening.  I had every intention of splurging on something grand for myself.  After a few hours of bullshit and no luck and nothing fitting and one guy saying at a boutique "We only carry 38's here" (as in "beat it, fat-ass, no couture for you!", I decided to come back to the Medosz.  So, it's the same old black dress I've worn 3 times already here.  Which is fine, all I wanted was a black dress anyways - since I'll be exhibiting the Chain Bridge tonight and that's the real piece-de-resistance. 

A couple hours to go until the opening and I'm not really nervous.  I'm not entirely thrilled about my photos, but they're pretty good and it's quite an honor to have a show in Budapest. Beata put a price of 75,000 forints for all six pieces, I'd be quite a lucky girl if they sold!  My awesome Hungarian family is coming and it will be an exciting night for all of us.  For now though, I'm just going to relax, enjoy an espresso and a glass of wine and mentally prepare for the challenge of being a walking art piece!  

August 2nd - Out with Agoston, Erzsebet and Zsuzsa

This is yesterday and today's blog, as I was too exhausted and emotionally drained to sit down and write about the day last night....

Agoston, Erzsebet and her cousin, Zsuzsa picked me up right at 10 am yesterday morning and we headed out to Godollo.  There was a traffic back-up because of the the Formula 1 racing shit happening in Budapest this weekend, but at least we were in a nice air-conditioned Peugeot.  Zsuzsa acted as interpretor, she's Erzsebet's cousin and she was great.  We got along right away and I think she must have done a fine job translating as Agoston and Erzsebet laughed at my silly jokes!

We arrived at the Kiraly Castle Museum, built in 1733 and purchased by Queen Erzsebet and the royal family in 1867.  The palace, which had been sacked in WWI, WWII and by the Commies, is only about half restored and most of the original furniture, art and relics are stolen or missing.  Much of the material in the museum is on loan from other museums or re-created in the style of the time.  But it was really quite breathtaking and in no way "unroyal." You couldn't take photos inside, but I snuck a few here and there!  

Then we headed out another 60 km to Holloko, a true Hungarian village with an amazing castle ruin at the top of large hill.  We walked all through the village, stopping in the shops and ate a huge meal at the super charming old-timey Hungarian restaurant.  This was like a the Hungarian version of the Shire.  While at dinner, Agoston gave me a gold chain and gold crucifix that belonged to my great-grandmother.  It was a very teary and emotional exchange.  I'm going to give this to my mom.  They also gave me a few more copies of family photos and promised more to come.  

I napped on the drive back and felt a little ill when I returned.  A long day in the sun, with more tears and more joy and the difficulties of language...but I wouldn't trade the time with them for anything in the world.

Later, all of us girls went to the Chain Bridge with some cute Dutch boys that Candida and Marlene snared the night before and we hung out on the bridge, overlooking the Danube. Every Saturday, they close this bridge and there's a ton of food, beer, vendors and music.  It's like Dally in the Alley, but every weekend of the summer and on a huge beautiful bridge.  The breeze was intoxicating.  It was the first time my body had cooled off in days.  We sat around and simply enjoyed the beauty of Budapest, suspended above the river, surrounded by the huge lions and tons of people and great vibes from all directions.  

I returned to find some tragic news about my brother-in-law's family and woke up today with the oppressive feeling of homesickness all over me.  It's worse than the heat.  Since I've been gone, Christian's stepfather Warren passed away, Belinda's dad passed away, and now Tobie's brother, David.  And as much as I love it here and want to come back and live here, these terrible events have really made me miss my friends and my home and my dog and my boyfriend and my cats and my family.  I miss Christian's face and his voice.  I miss Wilson's sweetness.  If I move here, I'll desperately need to transport these elements of my life here with me or I won't make it.  

But, I'm coming home on Friday and just have to push through this melancholy.  A day of ennui isn't the worst thing in the world and I plan on going to the Szenchenyi baths a little later on to swim away the blues.  

So, right now, Candida and I are back at Kiado, our home away from home, and because Daniel loves her (who wouldn't love this girl?) we've been treated to some fresh watermelon and the kindest, friendliest service we get in town.  This place is a true gem - like the Cass Cafe (the likes of which I haven't found a replacement for in Richmond).  

Aug 1 - Ludwig, Gellert and the long walk home...

The ladies of room 608 (Patricia, Hannah, Holly) and I headed out early to the Ludwig Museum, a little jaunt down the southern Pest side.  The museum is a modern marvel. Sumptuous space and architecture, but lousy cappuccino!  We started on the third floor which houses the permanent collection.  Among the Picasso's, Roschenberg's, Warhols and many famous male Hungarian artist's in the collection are TWO Beata Szechy's!  It was so nice to see the work of our lovely mentor and friend in such a prestigious museum.  She's one of the only women in the permanent collection - what a shame.  But her pieces were FANTASTIC and I am very happy that I got the chance to see her art.  

On the second floor, there's a temporary retrospective exhibit of Braco Dimitrijevic, which was very intelligent, yet sarcastic and humorous in many ways.  From photos to installations, the work was really conceptual and inspiring.  I particularly liked seeing him as a young man - great hair, great clothes, great art!  I would love to pick his brain over coffee and cigarrettes.  

Holly and  I didn't make it to the Simon Starling exhibit on the first floor, because we were a bit overloaded by then and spent our time in the museum bookstore.  I bought a hungarian cookbook, a calendar for my mom and a book of matches for my collection.  

Next, we headed out to for a lite lunch and on to the Gellert Baths.  It was a little expensive, but totally worth it!  We swam in the outdoor thermal baths, both the hot and cool ones, then went to the indoor baths and did the same.  The water was amazing.  It really felt therapeutic and relaxing.  The place is like a resort/palace and I didn't want to leave!

Unfortunately, we made the mistake of walking back from the baths.  This was a really bad idea.  The walk was way too far after a long day out and being tired from swimming.  I'm really sore and bit cranky now.  All that refreshment out the window!  

So, I'm back at Kiado doing my obligatory blog.  It's a good regiment thought - with just a few nights left here in lovely Budapest, I want to keep all my memories alive and fresh as they happen.  

I have a ton of pics on the camera, but didn't unload them yet.  More to come!  

Tomorrow, I'll spend the day with my cousin Agoston and his wife Erzsebet.  Fortunately, since we don't speak each other's languages, they are bringing an interpreter for the day.  We are going outside of Budapest to Godollo, a castle village about 25 km away.  They're picking me up at 10 am, so tonight will be an early night.  I hope I sleep better than last nite - it's so HOT here and of course, as mentioned before, no AC!  A cold shower is about the only thing I look forward to right now.  

July 30 - Last day of 30

I woke up today, hot and sweaty and restless from a turbulent night of nightmare-filled sleep and anxiety.  I'm thinking too much about the exhibition next week and my proposed pieces for the show.  I met with Candida and Marlene for breakfast, got my pieces together and headed to the print show to have my photos printed.  The lady at the shop spoke a little english, but she seemed very annoyed with us in general.  No matter, she printed my 12 images and they looked great (expect for one scratched one, which she reprinted right away).  I got the work home and thought, fuck, half of these look like garbage.  Not exhibition pieces at all.  Total CRAP.  

So, I've narrowed down my project from 9 images to 6.  I'm doing a triptych - 2 sets of three images each.  The first set is of non-human hands - close ups from sculpture, shot in such a way that the sculpture itself remains unknown and each represent different aspects of Hungarian history and culture:  tyranny, understanding and hope.  The second set brings in the human element, where hands and fingers connect or try to connect with the world around them, representing portals/doorways, knowledge and identity.  I'm not sure what kind of price tag to put on these, but since we are exhibiting at a very fine gallery here in Budapest, I don't think it would be unheard of to ask $1000 for each set.  I'd be happy with $50. Shit, I'd actually be happy with $5.  

When I got back from the print shop, however, I was still riddled with nerves and fortunately, my roommate Hannah offered to trip the images so they would fit in the frames.  My hands were so sweaty and shaky that I didn't dare even touch the prints.  I paced, I hovered, I probably drove her a bit crazy, but she was so calm and it helped me calm down.  I'm such a wreck when it comes to exhibiting shit.  I don't have a fine arts background and haven't matted a photo in 10 years.  I don't know the first thing about exhibitions except handing someone a fucking dvd or minidv tape.  And since I nixed the idea of editing a film here awhile back, well...I had to delve into other forms of exhibition that I'm not accustomed to.  But, isn't that what Residencies are about?

Later, I ate a terrible lunch with leathery beef and too many dumplings.  This was the first lunch of the Residency where the food was not very good.  Everyday we get traditional Hungarian dishes served to us at the hotel cafe - it's free and part of the Residency.  We never miss a free lunch!  But today...of all days, when I needed something delicious to take my mind of my stress, today is the day I get served a shoe for lunch.  

Then I took a nap and awoke drenched in sweat.  It's so hot and muggy here, and of course, unlike in hot-ass Virginia or steamy Detroit, there's no AC to cool you off.  And no fans in our hotel bedrooms.  

After that, I went to an art opening with the girls and it was bad.  Real bad.  The best part about it is that it made me feel like my work is pretty good after all!  

So, today is the last day of 30.  Tomorrow I'll be 31 on the 31st.  My lucky birthday!  I'm taking the day off  for some seriously needed rest and relaxation.  I'll go to the Szechenyi baths, get a pedicure and head out with everyone to the 25 or so gallery openings happening near Parliament.  Then out to dinner.  It will be great!  A new beginning!  

Friday, I'll get back to work on my film research.  I need to shoot more of the 1956 memorial sites, prominent locations and areas of activity.  I might even get a chance to take on of the day trips I planned out of Budapest to places where my mom was born, where she grew up, where her dad was born, etc...But tomorrow, tomorrow I relax! 

I might even get a tattoo of the Hungarian flag...let's see how adventurous I'm feeling!  

My Hungarian Family

Today might be one the most fulfilling, insightful and emotional days of my life.  This is not hyperbole.  This is the truth!

Beata came to meet me around 4 pm.  We walked over to the cafe, it's across the street from the Opera house on Andrassy, called Muvesz Kavezo and waited.  Beata was out of cigarrettes, so she ran to get some.  Just as she does so, I see the big man with the moustache, his wife and a younger woman.  It's them.  They look around.  They see me and it's immediate -- we're family.  

We hug, we kiss, we all tear up.  Like real tears, the kind you simply can't hold back and don't feel bad about letting go.  They brought me flowers and flowers for Beata too.  We kiss and hug some more.  We can't stop looking at each other.  Agoston and I have the same blue eyes.  

Agoston is big, but not fat at all.  He's 55.  Tall and thick, but in no way fat. Just very big.  His wife, Erzebet (Elizabeth) is lovely.  So beautiful.  They brought their daughter, Clari, she's my age and very pretty and spoke a little english.  Beata returns and we all sit down.  My camera rolls.

They brought with them a package of photos and letters and certificates of birth, death and marriage.  Every photo made me cry. My hand shook as I picked them up.   A new batch of fresh tears every single time.  There's pictures of my grandma, Valeria, so young and so unbelievable pretty.  Her sister, Margit, 5 years older than her, another knock-out.  This is Agoston's mother.  He's my mother's cousin, so he's my first cousin, once removed.  He and Erzebet have 3 children, and 5 grandchildren (two of which are still in the womb!) 

There's photos of my grandfather, Istvan Martonhegyi, so handsome and young.  Strong.  A true Hungarian freedom-fighter.  There's photos of my mother, from ages 4 through 17.  Pictures of my mom's brother, my uncle Peter, from 3 - 16 years old.  Pictures of my grandfather when after he came to America and his new wife, Christa, my Oma (whom my mother did not get along with, and you can see it in the photos!)

 There's letters my grandmother wrote her own mother, that Beata translated and read to me.  In one she said "I'm so very ill and think I will die soon."  

There's letters my grandfather Istvan wrote to his deceased wife's family back in Hungary.  About once a year, based on the post marks.  Some Christmas cards, often with photos.  To see their own handwriting is to see the history of my own strange and elegant cursive.  He calls his in-laws "mother and father" and asks them to send him the sport section of the Hungarian newspapers.  He gives little details about my mother and uncle Pete here and there.  "Vali has a car now.  Peter is working."  

There's a photo of my great grandparents and their 3 children (Margit, Istvan and Valeria).  It's like a portal back in time.  To look at my great-grandfather's face is to see Agoston.  To look at my great-aunt Margit is to see there daughter.  To look at my grandma is to see me.  

Beata did me such an incredible service by translating.  She helped me so much, I can't think there's anything I can ever do to truly repay her.  But I know she loves pastries, so she's going to get the BEST I can find in Budapest.  

Agoston told me, with a red, tear-streaked face, that I have made him so happy by finding him and being here and it has changed his life.  Both of us crying, we couldn't help but get up and hug and kiss each other some more.  I could not agree more with those sentiments.  My life is forever changed, for the better.  

We talked of many things.  How every weekend on Saturdays, he, his sister (Zsuzsa, who is now 57 and suffers badly from MS), his mother, Margit and Father, Agoston and my great-grandparents would meet at my grandmother's grave.  Every Saturday for over ten years.  

I asked how Agoston and Erzebet met.  They asked about me and my mom (Vali).  I talked about my sisters and all our accomplishments.  And that I have a Polish father.  And they laughed at that with good nature.  

I told him the story my mom told me on the phone today.  That one of her first memories is sleeping over at her grandparent's house, in the bed with them and they snored all night and frightened her!  

We laughed, we cried, we got to know each other and communicated beyond the language barrier.  This is only the first day we'll have with each other, the first meeting of many to come.

They invited mom and to stay with them when we come next year.  I invited them to the US.  I'm sure in our lives we'll cross the ocean many times to see each other.

There's no one else left.  Everyone has passed except for Agoston and his sister.  Agoston's children keep the Garai family name alive, but Kiraly and Martonhegyi are fewer and fewer.  (Kiraly is Valeria and Margit's maiden names, Margit married into the Garai name).  My great-grandmother was the last survivor of the older generation, she died at 91, having outlived all of her children and her husband.  

Finally, they brought a photo of my grandmother for me to keep.  And for this, my heart is full of emotion and gratitude, so much so that I can barely type through the tears.   She is so lovely and amazing.  I'm so sorry she died so young and that through her death, much of her/my family spread apart.  But time is not something I will dwell upon or fixate over.  The present is much more important and astonishing.  Agoston and Erzebet met me, a stranger, with more compassion, kindness and care than I would have ever imagined.  They said they would scan/copy all the photos/documents they have and even come to my art opening at Mucius Gallery, here in Budapest, on August 5th!  

If I do nothing else this residency, my journey to find my grandmother's grave has been so incredibly fortunate and profound that I can live and sleep soundly even if my footage sucks and my life as an artist is in some limbo sphere.  I came here to begin the research for my film, to find Valeria's grave and in return I have accomplished so much more.  I found the family I never had, the family my mother lost and the family I will always know and love from this day forward.  

Farkasreti Cemetery

This is where my grandmother is buried.  Farkasreti Cemtery, in the Buda side of the Budapest. 

How do I know?  Well, I went back to Kerepesi today and met with a woman in the Information Office who spoke a little english and she made a million phone calls, let me videotape her while she did so, and she found all the information I needed.  The story is incredible.  

My grandmother died in 1957.  Her side of the family paid for her grave.  Graves leases "expire" and cease if not released every 25 years (that's the weirdest thing I've ever heard!)  In 1980, a family member of her's, Gadai Agostonne, died, and was buried by her, thereby extending the lease on the grave (which would have expired in 1982).  Then, another 25 years was added to the lease.  So, in 2005, the grave expired again.  My helper, Barbara, waiting for a call back, said, if it wasn't paid, it might not be there.  If it is there, you can pay to keep it.  It will only cost about 150,000 forints!

Well, then she gets a call back.  And the grave was paid in 2005 by Garia Agostonne.  She then gave me this persons phone number and address.  

I think the person who died was my grandmother's sister.  And I think the person who paid on the grave is one of her children, and this person lives in Budapest.  

Barbara also gave me tram and metro directions to Farkasreti.  She was so helpful, I teared up when I said goodbye to her.

So, the adventure keeps shifting and changing.  Tomorrow, or the next day it DOESN'T RAIN ALL DAY, I'll head over there.  I know the transportation system well enough now to feel comfortable getting there with all my equipment.  

I'm also going to ask, Beata, my liaison, to translate a phone call to this person for me.  Wow, I have goosebumps just thinking about it!

For now, I'm going to hang out with the cute German boys I met at Kiado Kocsma last night. Young and friendly, we're going to hit up a few bars.  

No pics today, but a lot of progress in my research and quest to find my grandma's grave.  I can't wait to bring her some flowers and tell her that my mom loves her. 

Buda + Danube = Perfect

Today, Holly, Hannah, Patricia and I walked our way to the Vivivaroszi gallery on the Buda side of the Danube.   We left around noon and walked Andrassy until we hit St. Stephen's Basilica, where we simply had to go inside and enjoy its majestic splendor.  The Basilica is named for St. Stephen, the first king of Hungary (975-1038), and his mummified fist is housed in the reliquary.  I tried to get some shots of it, but with no flash, in a dark room, all you can really see is the case where the freaky mummy hand is.  You can actually see the knuckles if you look close. 

We crossed the Chain Bridge into Buda and walked towards the gallery, stopping frequently to ooooh and aaaaah at the gorgeous hills, castles, statues and architecture we passed along the way.  The bridge itself is AMAZING.  It's probably one of the most famous structures in the city.  From the bridge, you can see both sides of Budapest, from Parliament to the hills.  The river is wide and there's lots of tour boats and sailboats.   The whole thing felt totally surreal and romantic - I'm inspired and feel like I know my way around Budapest pretty well now.  

We finally made it to the gallery, where our work will show in 2009.  The show that's up is all work from past A.I.R. residents, including my great friend, Belinda Haikes!

(who I miss like crazy!)

After the gallery, we went to Cafe Gusto and ate very delicious sandwiches.  I had the best cappucino I've had here so far (the coffee at breakfast is always terrible...in fact, I'm convinced it's made with mud).  Then Hannah and Patricia went to the bath house, and Holly and I ventured off on our own, taking our time on the walk back to cross the Margit bridge and spend a little time on Margit Island, a little island in the river --- not unlike Belle Isle in Detroit and Belle Isle in Richmond!  

I came to some revelations today.  More about the video project and about what I might do for my gallery piece for the residency.  I was going to cut a short together but I think now I'll aim more towards photo.  I'm going to look for an old, ornate frame at the flea market.  Something that conjures up the baroque and detailed architecture of the city, but use a modern image to juxtapose the energy of Budapest.  A city so full of lovely and incredible design, everywhere you look, but caught in a crossroads of modern expansion and capitalist development.  I can't stop thinking about the ballet school housed on the second floor of the building riddled with bullet holes and war wounds.  To me, that surmises Budapest.  Beauty, elegance and grace surrounded by scars and pain.  As the body pushes itself, the body of the dancers, they are still encapsulated in this war-torn shell, this shameful and horrible fate.  Somewhere inbetween beauty and grotesque, this city pulses and physically, emotionally and spiritually thrives.   

So, that might be my piece.  It might not...

Tomorrow, I'm going back to the cemetery to *hopefully* track down where my grandmother's grave might have been moved to...

Patricia said she'd come with me.  And just having one person by my side will make all the difference in the world.  

I'm also going to go the US Embassy and see if I can get dual citizenship.  Come November, if Obama doesn't win, I know where I'd like to defect to.  

And last night...oh yeah!  Last night!  I met an American man who's lived here 11 years.  His son had just been born the day before and he was celebrating.  His wife is Hungarian, so they live here.  He said it took him about 2 years to really learn and be comfortable with the language.  He then told me he works in film/audio and worked on the audio for Hellboy 2.  I have yet to confirm this, but he did tell me he'd be my best friend if I moved here.  Cool. 

And, I just met two fun Germans!  Sebastian and Mario (huh, that name's not German!)  Couple of youngin's!  Adorable!  They're from Dusseldorf...and of course, I think of Dana and my lost trip to Germany.  Oh well.  When I live in Budapest, next year perhaps, it's only an hour or so flight away.   

Breakthrough

My new roommate, Patricia, is just what I needed to pull me out of my funk.  She's in her mid-thirties (i think) and she just arrived yesterday to the Residency.  She does incredibly thoughtful installation pieces.  Originally from Ecuador, she lives in Tennessee.  

This morning, she and I figured out the tram/metro (subway) system and bought our passes.  We then took a long walk to Hero's Square and the park at Varosliget.  Here, there's the Palace of Art, the Museum of Fine Art and a truly amazing and beautiful castle.  Vaydahunyad Castle.  Neither of us went on this trek with cameras, instead, we enjoyed the walk and the weather and the scenery, with no pressure.  It was relaxing and good for my body, mind and spirit.  We talked the whole way, taking in the surroundings, conversing about art, politics, philosophy, culture and our lives.  I think she's awesome.  

After lunch, I took a nap.  I woke up after about 45 minutes feeling completely refreshed and motivated.  With my new understanding of the transportation systems, I felt confident enough to get on the metro and head back to where we were today, this time with my video camera and tripod.  I shot a lot of exterior and scenic shots of the monuments and buildings, the people, the tourists.  I even kept the camera rolling while I was on the subway.  The sounds and audio on the metro is really incredible.  A loud whirr and whoosh and grind mixed with voices and hisses and sounds of brakes.  Then the doors whisk open and people come and go.  My luck, as I entered the metro station and stamped my pass, the guard totally accosted me for my ticket...and I was rolling!  

While I was in Hero's Square, the cutest blond boy was fascinated by me and the camera.  I got a couple shots of him.  My luck again, he joined me on the metro a couple stops later!  He was so adorable.  Funny, in a city of 2 million people, I run into this little tow-head twice.  

Today is a far cry from yesterday's slump.  Lunch was even better.  Everything was better.  I don't hurt as much and I feel rested and strong again.  I may have to revamp my plans for my project and the work I'll do here, but isn't that how filmmaking, and life in general, usually ends up.  Even the best plans can go to shit.  The point is, to pick yourself up and keep on shooting, living, breathing -- and to be excited about it every step, even if painful, along the way.  

Patricia also offered me some excellent advice:  forget editing.  Shoot EVERYTHING.  Shoot all the time.  Don't waste time editing right now, I'll always have the footage.  Right now, my opportunity is to capture as much footage as possible.  She put it like this: "Say you're at home, editing and you say, shit, I forgot to shoot that...it's not like you can come right back."  And she's right.  All I needed was a new perspective.

So, cheers to her and everyone for their love and support.

Presentation Day

Part of the residency requires that we present on who we are as artist's, our past works, experience, aesthetic, concepts, practice and examples.  Candida went first.  I loved her work.  Thoughtful, intellectual and brilliant.  And she's only 25.  All the presenters in the residency (all women), Marlene, Hannah, Lana, Holly, Patricia, Candida, showed command of their medium and many others - whether painting, drawing, photography, video, installation, ceramics or mixed media.  And then I go second to last and I feel like total poop.

Couple reasons.  One I won't mention, but the other being that here I am, 30 years old (almost 31!) a PhD student and I feel I have no aesthetic at all.  I have concept.  I have ideas.  Some funny, some serious, some artsy, but nothing concrete that really DEFINES ME.  My concept is this:  shoot or produce with any materials at hand, by any means necessary.  So, my work is as frenetic and un-definable as my influences.  I love Werner Herzog, Alfred Hitchcock and Stan Brakhage.  In film alone, this straddles so many genres and approaches.  I love Saturday Night Live, Days of Our Lives and Battlestar Galactica.  Okay.  Does this mean I'm versatile or good at nothing?

I know I'm a great teacher/professor, whether in film theory 101 or teaching students how to shoot and edit.  I think of it as "painting with light" like Joel taught me.  

Today, I gave a PowerPoint about "who I am."  I briefly went over my degrees, work experience, and philosophy (i.e - shoot whatever, whenever with whatever).  I showed Lee Plaza Volunteer, the opening Re-Cap montage of As the Lights Dim Episode 4 and one of my newest pieces, the collaborative film Intentional Fallacy.  Very good responses...but still, I felt so pedestrian...

Maybe I'm just being sensitive (see unmentionable cause #1) and highly skeptical of myself, but I did present with confidence and security.  I'm proud of my work.  I won't apologize because it doesn't fit into a nice little bundle or a simple category.  I transcend genre, dammit!  

But I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.  Literally.  My camera bag, tripod and backpack are fucking heavy.  After going to Kerepesi yesterday to shoot, I've been having horrendous muscle spasms in my shoulders from the bulk of my equipment load.  My feet hurt. My body aches all over.  All I want to do is drink to take away the pain.  Beyond the physical pain is the emotional and psychological weight of my project.  Suppose I don't fulfill my expectations of this residency?  Suppose I never find my grandmother's grave?  Suppose I fail at telling the story of my family with compassion, honesty and above all else, a sense of story? 

I am only one person.  In a foreign land (though it is my home land).  I will do the best I can under the circumstances.  I expect no pity...I simply want understanding.  As these days of the residency move on, I need to find some peace within myself and allow some room for failure.  And to consider failure as something else perhaps...as experience, discovery and wonder.  

Kerepesi Cemetery

Photobucket Album

Buda Day 3

Well, still no luggage.  It's been 2 full days since I've had my own clothes and things.  

Holly's t-shirt was starting to smell...so I took myself shopping today.  Went to the thrift store, Humana, and bought a pair of jeans, jean skirt, another skirt, 3 tank tops and 2 t-shirts.  Then I went and bought a pair of Converse and 2 other pairs of cheap shoes from a little tiny lady who spoke no English but was VERY very friendly and helpful.  It's amazing how gestures and signs can make up for what we lack in language communication.  Then, I hit up the camera store and bought a subpar Vivitar tripod.  Does what it needs to do, but is a hunk of poo compared to my Bogen.  Stopped at Cafe Mozart for a cafe au lait.  Oh, and I bought some toiletries including deodorant, mascara, and razors for my near-Yeti hairy legs and armpits. 

Tonight, Beata, our liaison, is taking us to a couple of art openings in town.  This will be great! 

And here I sit, back at the I hung at a bit last night for the free Wifi (or WEEFEE, as the Magyars pronounce it).  It's called Kiado Kocsma and it is a real gem of a place.  I realize that even with all the prep I did for this trip, I am woefully unprepared for the days of research and shooting ahead of me.  Wish me luck!

Next blog will show the pics I've taken so far, not too much.  I've been too busy drewling at the architecture and the amazing busy city to actual take pictures of it...

  

Buda day 2

Still no luggage.  I'm wearing one of my roommates t-shirts.  The shoes I wore to the airport were fine...for the airport.  Not for walking in Budapest.  FEET HURT.

Took a long walk today, regardless.  Up and down korut Erzesebet, which is a street filled with cafes, restaurants, boutiques, hotels and bars.  Feels like NYC without the price tag!  Even the Burger King is in a beautiful building.  I found a cafe around the corner from the hotel called VESPA.  It's decorated with Vespas, really.  They're parked in the front.  Free wifi with purchase, so here I sit, with Holly and Hannah (my American roommates) and we are enjoying glasses of dry red Hungarian wine.  

I took a 4 hour nap today after lunch.  Didn't plan on that!  But I think I really needed it after 26 hours of travelling and then getting loaded on canned Stella's while Christian and chatted on iChat.  So, today, I slept it all off.  

So, tomorrow I begin working.  Shooting B-roll and city shots.  More photography.  I want to get the Kerepesi cemetery as soon as possible.  This is where my grandmother is buried.  I have a picture of her grave and that's all to go on.  But, I'll find it.

What sucks, what REALLY REALLY SUCKS, is that my very nice Bogen tripod is in my missing suitcase.  Not sure what to do.  If my luggage doesn't arrive tonight, I'll have to buy a new one.  And all new clothes.  And a pair of Merrell's. Can't live in Holly's t-shirt for 3 weeks.