A-Trak & Tommy Trash - Tuna Melt (official music video)
Directed by Ryan Staake
Dominos & Kinetics: Kinetic King (Tim Fort)
Production Companies: Pier Pictures and Pomp&Clout
Directors of Photography/Steadicam: TS Pfeffer & Robert McHugh
Gaffer/AC/DIT: Jacob Ritley
Post Production: Pomp&Clout
Sound Design: Aaron Wallace
RED Epic: CSLA
Shot at The Ohage House, St. Paul, MN (ohagehouse.com)
Arrow Wireless HDMI transmitter graciously provided by Paralinx (paralinx.net)
Daft Punk - Get Lucky (feat. Pharrel & Nile Rodgers)
this record makes me wish i could kiss every girl in the world.
Florence and The Machine - You’ve Got the Love (The XX Remix)
Billy knows my obsessions.
The View: A “Back-to-the-Camera Shot” Supercut (by Plot Point Productions)
d(-_-)b
tomato
a slow summer. a pool - a blue pool. it’s sun down, wake up, cold can, shower hour, shower after shower in the heat of a night in june-hour. hour(s) of soaking sun rays when they rise. strawberry eyes. strawberry nights. piling up like a deck of cards. fifty-two pick-up. bank robbers shook up a little convient store. turns out we knew ‘em, the victim and the robbers. for either side there’s green grass involved..on some side of the fence or the road while we’re crossing it. get your story straight. opinion, take a look around. no one’s asking you. i’d ask.. but im afraid of getting my head chopped off. think for yourself. try for an afternoon. exile or bust. out of dilemma, busting. since then, shot a villain in a duel, after too many shots of crude oil.. turned out friendly fire. jump in the pool. dry off. patrons stare behind shades of plastic. we flick ‘em off, cause you know it ticks ‘em off. window. window. window. it’s dark inside but the yard is still in sight. right there. right here. right.
consecutive
2:30 - ”click!” -`,31
she raised a brow over her steady gaze on the alarm clock. “clay…”, she thought. “i haven’t played with clay in years!”
wendy smiled. the room was dark but disguised beneath the blanket of ink were tiger-orange locks of curls and the angelic figure of a musician. a song bird when she did speak, which was seldom here on account that she was alone, she decided, “dang.” was an appropriate audible comment for her sluggishly ensuing sorrow. rethinking the loss of time and stability of distances between a triangulation of points on a map, frequently did take place of things she might say or do…like play with clay. “i think therefore i speak, i speak therefore i think.”, she thought. “when is there time to play?” perhaps the most profound & most basic thought she’d ever come across - and yet, just as soon as it came in, it moved on with the passing minutes.
2:31 - ”click!” -`,32
the significance here was in the moment, the thought of…the thought of the thought. a dicey predicament. but she held on to it, tightly. “things do move in threees.”, she sighed.
what she’d been referring to was the thought of lost love —
“knock!” “knock!”, she drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair beneath her wrist. a steady tempo —
“knock!” “knock!”, a steadying beat—
“KNOCK!” “KNOCK!”. “Nooo”, she said aloud, slamming down both hands. It was irresistible. “time and distance are no match for true love.”, she whispered. it was true, all you ever need in life is a single moment worth all the other moments…without it.
2:33 - ”click!” -`,34
she looked at the clock and noticed two minutes had passed. she gasped and closed her eyes to made a wish.
“Clay.”, she thought. “I wish I could play with clay, everyday.” perhaps the most basic & most profound wish she could have made at that moment. wendy smiled. “and like clay, i’ll see you again someday.”
—
