Fellini to Truffaut: Paris, France circ.1953
as translated by Lina Wertmuller


Pretty Promo shot of you in the thumbnail....
drew me in...
That's my Cary Grant!~

Ok.. here's what I think -
All aspects strong, clear, poignant... really brilliant...
I'm sure it resounded with the locals...
Content compelling in fits and starts... yes, but I can see the French seams...
So I say... use this level of filmmaking to your advantage, get simple, make fun... connect the dots...
point at your weakness...or as Houdini said... "find the elephant?"

If you're going to be the main character in a student venture Francios... use your strength! Learn them (Arkansas vernacular) to find and revel in their personalities.... After all.. there's nothing to learn at this level... only to discover (fuck the film craft... you can overlay that cacca in the editing bay). The problem with theatre or film...(but mostly theatre 'cause you can see the Cosmos in a close-up lens...) is that the desire to please can booger the performance! You can learn your craft but you must succumb to your strength of personality in order to find your power!

When you 'roll'em' don't second guess the drama, "ok, pause... now CUT!
No! I feel the seam. Squeeze the toothpaste then worry about putting it back in the tube!
Thanks to Gauguin, Picasso... all children start out painting like pro's! We shall make it so with film, yes?

You're a brilliant comedian really FT... a gifted and compelling actor sometimes... as well as director (dare I say writer?)...
But in my opinion, great acting... is based on a quiet internal superior sense of self, needing NO sanction from others. Draw the camera in, but be distant, self absorbed... invite distrust, reveal vulnerability... draw them closer... and then..... hit 'em with the poetry! You're a boxer... capiche?
Bottom Line...

Ok... I know this is an Asian experiment... a simple flower, bursting with seeds... and I'm lovin it...
but I'm drunk.... and intolerant... and I know a Smash damnit! Give me the real Mac Coy!
Lemme see the boy that first did 'sugars' in front of the vatican for metal money.... and wowed em....
Don't want a gypsy life? Fine... just give it to us ONCE on film... you can go home!

Just for me... contrast the simple with the absurd... as if they existed together, mindless one from the other...
A normal drama of 'life and times' but the street sweeper wears... White Face! Huh?
Look for the hook Francis... perhaps the priest has two noses!
There's no room for masturbation in this film.... so I recommend something strange as contrast, to question the nature of simplicity, Si?
(the pigs are excellent by the way!)

Please stretch your wings Frank. I've often thought... you're like Brando. You don't really respect your superior abilities -
The difference is, he knew he was trapped by his talent, and loved to punish you with it. You would rather exist within the
folds of the curtain... hoping to show without revealing! You would beckon the visionary...
while Marlon would swagger up... and fuck you in your eye!

You are the Samurai my boy....

Lift your head... flex your handsome profile in the second story light, drag your dick out of the angel,
say, "beneath the flamboyant oak.. the growing elm seeks full reward," grin like a jackal... turn and poot on life's perfection...",

Now go home and wait for a phone call.

George Carlin

6/2/07

That perfume on the dresser?
Must've been there for 30 years...
Can't tell the last time it might have been woofed When that apothecary top got it's seal broke last nothing floatin' in it -
still clear in a glass bottle

that vinegar that's on the shelf....
dark and deep and red...
I wondered if that was blood when
I was little balsamic blood...
in a glass bottle

that olive oil's so old.....
it's got a social security number...
Oil on the outside catch the dust...
looks like it's got a little beard
smudge it away and you can see
the virgin oil is chaste
In a glass bottle

That whiskey under the sink
ain't probably had a drink from
in eight or 13 years -
yeah, and it's got a beard too
smudge it away... that V.O. still looks good -
'cause it's in a glass bottle -

Sweet tater on the breezeway shelf
hangin' there in a gallon jar -
growin' legs won't get ya too far
but it could be worse.. mutha F---cha... you're in a glass bottle -

Glass don't borrow from the bank or brass shares it's secrets like a looking glass screw the cap down tight 'n nothing will pass -

keep your promise like an Irish lass...
In a glass bottle

1/25/07

Look...
listen...
Clearly
Listen...
now Clearly...
look.....
Well, Clearly.....
just look....
but listen....
lookly...
now clearin...
'cause listlen...
clook...
I mean clisten...
learly !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

looklistenclearlylooklistenclearlylooklistenclearlylooklistenclearlylook
listenclearlylooklistenclearlylooklistenclearlylooklistenclearly
clearlylistenlookclearlylistenlookclearlylistenlookclearlylistenlookclea
rlylistenlookclearlylistenlookclearlylistenlookclearlylistenlook
ylraelcnetsilkoolylraelcnetsilkoolylraelcnetsilkoolylraelcnetsilkoolylra
elcnetsilkoolylraelcnetsilkoolylraelcnetsilkoolylraelcnetsilkool

Hey look!
We shall fight to support any truth that is made clear through righteous forbearance.
Listen....
a world where bears don't growl and mir cats don't barney can't support spiritual glory.

Clearly...
if we cut off our nose to spite our face, we'll never be able to look in the mirror again!
Thank you... and God Bless America!
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1/01/07

Oh my... with what clarity the New Year dawns...

Slap!

With a shocking revelation or a distinctive variation on a common theme, a sobering moment, a striking comparison, waking from a dreams melisma as your eyes focus on a real object or image... a super-real contrast splash...

kinda the way paper money looks on the ground...

The promise of New Year's Day is the magic of possibilities and surprise...and hope for a new beginning...

Is it a promise we all share... cycle of life... Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall?

Perhaps in the slow march... the quiet acceleration of a year...
the heart begets a vacuum finally, as certainly all is known of the working past, fully explored memories are all sorted, categorized, frozen and banked... courses are run, money's spent...
and up against the wall, in a fitful bind, a vacuum pulls, the soul gasps, seeks relief...

and gets some...

Is it a natural occurrence then for even the most forsaken to know the glorious potentials of hope at least once a year?

A window presents itself...

Happiness gets another chance....
You put your elbows on the sill, and lean forward into the opening...
you can make out wisps of things....
good fortune, enlightenment, fame, love, benevolence, gifts or power...
peace or beauty... sleep... dancing... a sandwich...
profound, simple, common, garish and wonderful things exist in the ether... distinctly similar yet strangely different and magically catalytic...

Bang!

Kinda the way paper money looks on the ground.
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12/26/06

Cold Water Well
In the fire of old Dakota
where the sun turns rock to ember
where the eagles dare not settle
and the toads forgotten sleep

there's a grotto in a cavern
through a maze of cracks and cranny's
you may stumble into quiet
peaceful ringing of a bell.

So the water strikes the water...
in that grotto in a cavern
holds you tender in it's echo
as you crawl to where it starts

like the promises of heaven
sure and confident and grateful
as the level gently rises
you are praying not to stop.

In that moment where the chill
and where the pleasure wrests your passion
leaves you weak and supplicant and
when the pain of loss is gone...

light and crying you continue
thankful shudders visit tissue
and your soul submerges happy
for your tears won't have to fall.
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Plant your winter onions….
Get ‘em from a friend
Stab ‘em in the ground
Let the green stick out the end

Icy winds might blow ‘em
Rains might pound ‘em hard
Winter onion skins are thick
Watchin’ ‘em standin’ guard

Fronds obeying weather’s whim
Snapping to attention
Every ray of sun bestowing
honorable mention

Scent does not a rose beget
They function not as flower, but
Winter onion heroes brandish
Archetypal power

Simple quiet, pride of purpose
Grow them if you can
Give a friend a winter onion
Nature’s courtesan

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11/20/06

Been a rough few months, relieved the dems puttin' on
the breaks...
misguided pundits, idols on parade...
ambition mistook for zeal...
Whoo... it was gettin' dark...
No Habius Corpus.... water boards and cop-to-its without recourse...
patriots roll in their graves....
middle class shrivels -
Brrrrrrrrrrr....
Yep, fell asleep
Had a dream
woke upside down
radio lamenting
Jerry Lee's a pedophile
TV moaning
Charlie Chans a bigot
Tonto's a whore
Organ grinder's monkey runs
his own convenience store...

hero's have become offensive
Lightnin's a loser
Rochester's a getaway man
Poncho's a pimp
Chester's a gimp
Lassie's a bitch...

Comedians are all suspicious...
Paddy's a drunk
Johnny's a punk
Elvis is a pervert
Doctor's of philosophy make their living sweeping floors...
You can't say Christmas anymore...

Sandpaper pillow
bed of nails
hot tar shower
towel off with toilet paper...
old yogurt toothpaste
cat-tail brush, popping seeds...

Dog's on fire
ambient light grey background...
ginger coffee
stereo yodels
but you can't say Christmas any more...

Sherlock pushes
Watson's a fag
Gunga Din's a pathological liar
JFK commits suicide while RFK watches
RFK commits suicide while JFK watches
JFK&RFK commit suicide while Teddy watches
Teddy's a republican...
Dove's a hawk

John Wayne is... well, John Wayne -
Pope casts the first stone
Post man delivers a dead baby, registered mail...
sign for it
check messages
3 is flashing...
first from the President requesting my presence in Superior Court Rm A
at 11:59PM, on 11/30/06...
second from my Mother, "be happy... you're such a pretty boy..."
the last from God, simply saying..."WAKE UP!"
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It…
It…
It…

It...
It…

It’ll never change
It’s a nightmare
I’m tired of it –
It’s a bug in your eye
It’s a stub on your toe
It’s a pain in your neck
It’s waiting at the bus stop on a rainy day
It’s sittin’ in traffic
It’s standin’ at the bank
It’s holdin' on the phone “se abla espanol?”
It’s a 40 dollar entree and the steak comes out burned
It’s your best buddies birdie and you're three over par, but

It ain’t I –

I’s a beacon
I’s a sea shell
I’s a water droplit
I’s a pillow hug
I’s a pal
I’s a arty favor
I's a brother
I's a son
I's a husband
I’s a hero
I’s a tunnel rat
I’s a talking dog
I’s a liaaaar
I’s a lover

It ain’t I -

Get your nag on…scratch about IT!

Wear a hole in IT
Patch IT, commence to re-scratchin

Jump the next train out for I
No scheduled departures for I?
Get on board.... turn IT around
If you don’t, you’re doomed to stay
Pacing at the station
On judgment day
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8/31/06

Many a tear has to fall... but it's all in the game -

Picker's Prayer - (after the ball is over)

Try out my hand after midnight oh Lord....
keep me in all that you do -

See that I'm offering plenty oh Lord -
after the party is through

I'll pick out your tunes on my heart strings oh Lord
just be with me after the show

try out my hand after midnight oh lord
there's something I'd like you to know -
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8/17/06

ramblings....

hmm........

orange peels, cigarette buts, basset hounds, lounge parties, cool caverns, built liquor, pulchritude, pocked puckers, lucky strikes, straight talk, push push, gi mo chi!

"I resist the urge to paste, I will conceive... I will paste later"    Blue Louie

I will dance in the plane, cut volumes... pound the clay, dare equals, refuse to consider - Stab Julius - Rondo Hutton, Par mesan....

Whatayadoin ?-

email Michael Austin

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