SAME Ink

Until you look back, you may not realize how profound certain relationships were on your art.

It was senior year in high school went we finally, formally met. He was a photographer, sure of that. I had way too many ambitions to know what I was, but I was attracted to his focus, his certainty, his determination.

He was the first boy to kiss my hip. The innocence in which he did so is why I remember it so clearly. It was a baptism to us both. After many afternoons bleeding into early evenings, showing me contact sheets and pointing out why I was right or wrong in choosing the best composition of the shot, what he gave as flirtation was truly giving me my eye, an education. He really did show me the light. And the shadow, as well as the alignment. This is what every cinematographer I work with is secretly beholden to.

You never know when or who will give your your eye or your ear or your voice, but I’m sure you will remember when it was bestowed upon you. It wasn’t when we were holding contact sheets that he assured me I had a view. It was many weeks later, when “work” was no longer between us, when he placed his seventeen-year-old lips on my hips of the same age, that was when I knew he saw my eye, too. It was not just the attraction between us, but the common eye that made it special. He was truly an artist. And his love of me made me feel I was an artist, too.

Let’s remember, we were seventeen. And his favorite film at that time was FX. He appreciated the foreshadowing.

Less than two years later, he would be dead. That only made the gifts he gave me in that short time all the more profound. I feel I owe a debt to him, a need to show the world what he taught me in that precious space. I remember the last smile he gave to me, shortly before he was gone. It was in a video store, where he was renting a movie. I was behind the counter. Before I could say hello, he was gone.

Films were his second passion, after photography.

It was this time of year that I last saw him. It is this time of year I’m reminded of all he taught me. It was this time of year I came into my own as a filmmaker at CalArts. It is this time of year I am most inspired.

You never know, until you look back, who will be among your greatest inspirations.

D will always be one of mine.

Okay, this post’s title might seem a little harsh, but…let’s be honest. No one, and I mean no one, is going to try to talk you into joining Google+. Oh sure, right now, there’s the want of an invite, the desire to be included. But, once you get there, if you don’t immediately get it, good. Stay on Facebook. Revisit MySpace (Justin Timberlake might even be the new Tom). Chances are, you’re the type of person who joined Twitter to retweet Ashton Kutcher or one of those Kardashian thingies. That’s sort of not the point of social media, in my humble opinion, but the great thing about social media is that you get to use it however you want.

Google+ kind of gets that. There’s a wonderful separation of Church and State there, allowing you to group people into circles (Friends, Acquaintances, Colleagues, etc.), and select which broadcasts go to what groups. That’s the first drop of awesome sauce. The second? Hardly anyone is there. It’s just a bunch of tech nerds, savvy social media users and friends of theirs, like me, who were lucky enough to get an early invite. And, with the majority of my friends being slow on the social media uptake, I only have a handful of people in my circles.

And that’s where the avalanche of awesome comes in.

Oliver Reichenstein explains it best in his post Why and How Google+’s Interface is Kicking Ass. But if all you want from your social networks is to connect with old school chums, Facebook is the place for you. Stay there. Please. If you are bummed when you get to Google+ thinking, “Hey. Where’s everybody at? I have no friends,” you’re missing the point. And that’s fine.

Google+ is where social media turns a corner, and where users can redefine its use.

Which is what I intend to do. I’ve been waiting and waiting…and waiting for Diaspora to launch. I’ve long been over Facebook and their endless privacy gaffs. I’d really like another place to connect with like-minded people without the games and Farmville and noise from those who fancy themselves life experts. (Also, if I also follow you on Twitter, I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t repeat every broadcast on every social media outlet. I mean, really, what’s the point?) So, for me, a quiet little neighborhood like Google+ is just perfect. That’s sure to change. Especially if that damned Ashton Kutcher moves in. But, for now, Google+ is my happy place. It’s okay if you don’t like it, if you don’t see the point of it, or don’t want to be bothered with yet another social networking portal. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.