Preview of my work produced in Chiang Mai for this Saturday’s showcase ‘HEAT,’ put on by underexposednyc and hosted by Animoto.

Today I presented to a symposium of arts organizations fostering creativity in my native city, learned 20 characters of my native language, and screened a premiere of my first directed short film, produced in my native country.

Grandma’s English conversation book for business is mad official.

Hey friends! I have updates about the music video I’ve been working on with a great team here in Chiang Mai.

Video update on the music video for ‘Pony Blues’ at my bio link. Regram this photo and add #ponyblues to get free music from RVNG Intl.!

michigrim:

The Matrix (1999) Directed by Andy and Lana Wachowski

(via fuckyeahsciencefiction)

the-king-himself:

Tom Hiddleston photomanipulation over George Dawe’s Portrait of Pyotr F. Zheltukhin

Inspired by replaceface. I didn’t find Hiddleston there, so I made it myself. I really hope you like it ^^

Pacing

My mom has always hated how I pace when I’m on the phone. It makes her dizzy watching me make circuits around the dining table. Growing older, I’ve noticed I tend to pace when I get a brainstorm. A new idea for a short, a mental idea of what music to coincide with a video, or how mindfucked I get by a Borges short story. I get tunnel vision thinking so intently on an idea, and the feet just go, on autopilot to power the brain while the brain is preoccupied in doing whatever the hell it’s doing.

Wherever I’ve lived, I’ve done a lot of walking. More walking than logistically necessary, most times inconveniently so. Now in Thailand, I take long bike rides, across town and in circles around the moat. Not because I’m taking so long to get there, or that I’m lost. I’ve been so inundated by reflection in native culture, Thai society, Thai sexuality and sexual stigma, conceptions of race and racial privilege, globalized identity, politics, Thai conceptions of art and visual culture, exquisite corpses of art from cultural cross-pollination - all this in relation to my own overgrown, cancerous creative itches that leave me tired and hungry and exhausted with all that energy siphoned into the ideas until they live and breath and walk and sweat and travel the world with me as electrons around the nucleus.

I can see the appeal of the backpacker in aimlessly travelling. I can’t do that. I’ve realized I wouldn’t be just walking, biking, flying, driving, riding the bus, riding the train, riding the scooter, swimming, climbing, or dancing across England or France or New York or Seattle or Spokane or Chiang Mai. It’s all pacing.