Pat Monger
P.D.P.
Friday, 8 July 2011
New Blog/Website
Sunday, 3 July 2011
Rosemary's Videos update
I want some Bill Murray in my life
Or at least in a hypothetical production of my new screenplay.
Ever since finding out that one of our projects next year can be a feature-length screenplay, and that we don't have to go through to ache of attempting to produce it, I've been attempting to give it a go. I've never written a feature-length, I've attempted it before but become too easily distracted by another, "better" concept – as always. I still have a lack of faith in the strength of any concept or plot I come up with by myself, but I have a vague idea that seems to be coming together as I attempt to run with it.
My desire is to produce a sort of 'whimsical misery' (as a friend of mine put it). As most of the writing that interests me is very raw, stripped back drama, it can often be very depressing, and that's what I'm often prone to coming out with – depressing material. But looking towards the sort of dramatic comedy that interests me, thanks to my recent, growing affection for Wes Anderson films, I've realised that, rather than sad films with funny lines and a warm heart (such as 'Little Miss Sunshine'), humorous films with a sad, dramatic core can be much more touching and relatable. I'm also interested in the (much criticised) on-the-nose, deadpan or obscure humour and behaviour that plagues such films.
I've spent a lot of my recent time watching around Wes Anderson and his footprints in film (which is maybe something I shouldn't admit, in case of any coincidental similarities in my writing to his, especially as I've found myself imagining Anderson's signature actor, Bill Murray, delivering the lines of one of my characters).
The in-progress draft of my script is about the relationship between a father and son, and how the father's advice has unwittingly obscured the son's view of his surroundings. When the son is thrust into the spotlight of popularity at school, he tries his best to devise a way to reverse this status.
The actions and behaviours of each character are backed up by their surrounding environments that react metaphorically to the events. This is most prominent with the house that they live in, which is just as dysfunctional as the family themselves.
Not that I see this script-writing as any more than an exercise, I'm struggling to think of a name and a face that would be able to deliver these lines as well as a (younger) Murray, without sounding morbid:
FATHER (CONT'D)
Your mother's in love with a dead person, you just need to give her some time.
TIMOTHY
Are you ok?
FATHER
I'm a little bit lonely and sad.
Thursday, 9 June 2011
Timelapse test
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Rosemary Recording Sessions - Update
Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Extract from ‘Six Different Ways’
"I find it odd that his office resembles a living room yet his hallway resembles a young offender's institute and I tell him this. He asks me if I think she should be here and I tell him immediately that I absolutely do not deserve to be here, but that it was better than an anger management course – which was my mother's initial suggestion.
I ask him what he is. Is he a therapist? A psychologist? A counsellor? A shrink? A psychoanalyst?
He tells me he's somebody to talk to, somebody with which I can unleash with no consequences. He tells me to get angry, be rude, aggressive and that here and only here it's ok, that it's safe. He tells me to think of this room as a room without judgement and without repercussions and I tell him that if there're no repercussions then he certainly is wasting my time – even though I know this isn't what he meant. He sighs a little and I decide to loosen up on him. I tell him I've never needed anyone to talk to.
He pauses for a second here. He leans forward and puts both his hands together, elbows to his knees and thumbs to his chin, leaning into himself. His two index fingers are stretched out together. He speaks more softly now.
"Is it that you've never needed anyone to talk to, or that you've never had anyone to talk to?"
I can feel the pressure against my temples. I can feel it boiling underneath my skin. But I don't disrespect him, so I keep it at bay."
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
"She's a good shell"
She's a good shell but that's all she is, nothing worth holding. I've had to build my reasoning from scratch -I had it all figured out but now I've lost it. I'm not cold anymore but I'm not sure where the warmth is coming from. I think it's the fact that the rejection came before the proclamation and that isn't what bothers me. I'm not even sure why I did it, I should have waited a few hours for it all to come down but I did it anyway and now the whole world's at a loss. I miss the days when I felt cold, calm - I felt metallic - but I'm on my way. I'm drinking fucking panda blood. I have no strings.
I'm breathing water still I reach for the surface, hoping that I'll like what's up there."
Sunday, 22 May 2011
Canon EOS 550D
'Open Till Late' Hand-in

Rosemary Recording Sessions - Day 1

Sunday, 15 May 2011
Pro Tools 9


Saturday, 14 May 2011
'the Fall'
Rehearsal Extract
Thursday, 12 May 2011
Recording Studio Documentary
Saturday, 7 May 2011
'The Lion in Winter'
Extracts from other things
“He sings about me in Latin. He writes about me in Greek. If you want to earn me, you have to do something.” And all of a sudden it knocks me to the floor. The culmination of her words and my flaws, and the weakness in my left ventricle, it’s hit me like a hard left-hook and I fall to the ground in front of her. She looks at me as if I’m mad, but I’m not female.
--------------
“Girls, one day – if it hasn’t happened already, mind you – one day a man will tell you he loves you.
It will be a lie.
Especially if he’s Italian.”
--------------
I wrote our history on a napkin and then I threw it at your face. It was one of those posh napkins, the reusable ones, not the disposable type. I guess that makes it better. You picked it up and read it and you laughed. Everything summed up in to four or five sentences - that’s the way you like it, and that’s the reason I hated you so much. I smiled and you grasped my knee under the table.
We speak quickly and honestly and simultaneously.
“I love you.”
“You wear me out.”
Looking Back
“You’ll never understand the ways you’ve helped me.” He tells me. “You’ve released me. You’ll never believe the state I was in before I met you.”
The look in his eyes tells me he’s being a soft and sincere and affectionate romantic. The grip with which his hand takes my arm tells me I should be afraid of him, of what he could be capable of.
“Jay...” I begin the question before I’m even sure what I’m about to confront. I take a moment and he looks at me and smiles a smile that would have made my heart melt a month ago. He’s become this sweet and loving and genuine male out of nowhere, and he tells me that this is my influence – I’ve drawn the sweetness out of him and into the forefront of his character.
The silence has lasted too long now and I realise it’s no longer appropriate to ask him whether he did, in fact, murder his brother, so instead I place both of my hands, softly, on either side of his face and give him a delicate kiss, hoping he mistakes delicacy for affection.
Friday, 6 May 2011
'Open Till Late' Filming

Wednesday, 27 April 2011
'Open Till Late' rehearsals
Monday, 25 April 2011
'The Tree of Life'
Wednesday, 20 April 2011
'Six Feet Under'
Monday, 18 April 2011
'Open Till Late'
We're in groups of 6 and each have our specific roles - my role is as the Producer. At first we held many group production meetings, where everybody had an input in developing our concept and, afterwards, our script. After all pitching various ideas, we began developing an idea that Nick (our chosen Director) put forward and once we had a layout we were all happy with, Nick and I began writing multiple drafts of the script. I really enjoyed the collaborative effort, even with all the arguments, disagreements and the moments of awkward tension that came with them. After about 8 drafts we had a script we were all happy with and, already far behind schedule, we began moving forward with the pre-production process.
Sunday, 17 April 2011
Killers are hitting on me.
"She’s lying on her bed on her right side. Her left leg is hanging over the mattress and her foot touches the floor. I can’t see her face for all of the hair that drapes over her and as I approach, slowly and reluctantly, I notice her pillow is covered in what looks like some sort of light green foam. The smell of fish and vomit wafts over me and makes me retch. I turn her over and it hits me like a wall. I fall to my knees.
I don’t panic or rush my movements or call for help, but move the hair away from her face and open her eyes. They don’t respond. I use my little finger as a hook to pull out the remaining foam from the back of her throat and I sit her up a little. I place my palms on both sides of her face and use my thumbs to stretch the skin of her cheeks – I don’t know why. I let go and her head lolls.
By the side of the bed is an open bottle of water – not for drinking. I pour some of it into her mouth. She chokes a bit and her eyes begin to move a little. She’s breathing again and her legs twitch. The water splutters back out of her mouth a different texture and colour than it was before. I hold her by the back of her head, fingers locked into the knots of her hair and she looks up at me. I look down immediately, so as to not make eye contact, and notice I’m kneeling on one of her needles. Freshly used, it presses its tip into my leg. I shuffle away slightly before I look back towards her. I think she’s trying to smile at me. My face stays blank. It takes all of my willpower not to stand up at this moment and walk away, now she’s awake and safe. I guess I should be with her now, for comfort, but I don’t have any words. Nothing is spoken, nothing said, the only thing thought is that I shouldn’t be here. Her hand reaches for me three or four times but never makes it. I realise now that I’m afraid, and what I’m afraid of is not being able to remove my hand, of being forever tangled in the knots of her hair."
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
Rosemary

Monday, 14 March 2011
New Recording Studio practise

Extract from Nothing
“Do you want this?” She asks me.
How am I meant to know if I want this? How am I meant to know what’s right in these situations?
“It’s not about what’s right, it’s about what’s good.” She says, reading the look on my face. I look her up and down.
“There’s nothing about this that’s good.”
“Not morally. Fuck morals, fuck ethics.” She commands, her voice is stern but her face relaxed. “I mean good for you.” She smiles when she says this, her lip curls and she’s gorgeous and, just to top it off, when it’s done curling she bites down on it, and looks up at me through her eyelashes. “Why deny yourself something you want so badly?”
I don’t think there’s an answer to that question, if there is I definitely don’t understand enough about anything to be able to answer it – not even myself.
I take what she’s offering – how can I not? I put it in my pocket, and that’s that.
Before this I’d never stolen, and before this I’d never done anything under the influence of anyone else, but she had a flower in her hair.
'Collapse Into Now'
Shaken with the cracks and crevices
I'm not giving up easy
I will not fold
I don't have much
But what I have is gold
I sing in platinum
I dress in brass
I eat in zinc
Let it pass
I've seen your eddies and tides and hurricanes and cyclones.
Low ebb tide and high, full moon.
Up close and distant.
I read you.
Look, the sky, the sea, the ocean, the sun, the moon.
Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue blue, blue, blue, blue, blue.
Naked and blue.
Breathing with you. Touch. Change. Shift. Allow air. Window open. Drift. Drift away. Into now.
I want Whitman proud. Patti Lee proud. My brothers proud. My sisters proud. I want me. I want it all. I want sensational. Irresistible.
This is my time and I am thrilled to be alive.
Living. Blessed. I understand.
Twentieth century:
Collapse Into Now"
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
'Why would you deny yourself something you want so badly?'
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
I've got an end to a story
Monday, 29 November 2010
"This is the first thing I have ever understood."
For the last 8 weeks we've been looking at documentary form, the unconscious identity and the concept of self-reflexivity. The first four weeks were research based and I took this opportunity to incorporate my interest in philosophy and the fact that I was already reading some Nietzsche when looking into theories around "truth".
The concept behind the documentary, which was our practical unit for the second four weeks, was that it was meant to explore technology's effect on social change, and how it plays into the way we construct our identity.
I decided to focus this topic on musicians. As I thought it would be interesting to delve into how bands and artists construct their identity, especially as music is already such a significant interest of mine. I also thought this would be an effective way to implement my idea of building a showcase website for bands (that I've briefly discussed before) in some way or another. I decided to make short films focusing on each individual band I met as a test run for my website idea, as well as making the documentary project, which, I believed, would all work well together and accompany the website effectively.
I decided - rather ambitiously and stubbornly - to work by myself this term, rather than in a group. This was mostly due to poor experiences in groups in the past, but also because my role has tended to be mostly technical in recent projects. I've been focusing on realising other peoples ideas or at least co-producing concepts, and not giving enough input to the core concepts myself, so I wanted to put the pressure on myself this time to produce something entirely of my own.
It turns out this wasn't exactly the best idea. Traipsing to and around London by myself with all my camera and sound equipment, a laptop, notepad and two hard-drives, wasn't exactly easy, especially when it came to getting quality video and decent sound and lighting.
I also decided not to involve any friends that are musicians - not at this stage anyway - to not use any contacts I already had and to try my best to get in touch with as many decent bands as possible. I ended up with three, very talented bands, an independent record store, a recording studio/band manager and a guy called David Balfe, an extremely successful musician/producer/manager/record label/A&R man/rights publisher/music video director - just about every aspect of the industry you could name.
I was attempting to get in touch with a musician called Derek Meins (aka the Agitator) and accidentally got the attention of David, who contacted me and kindly offered to be involved with the doc. He very modestly told me to Wikipedia his name and see if I thought his opinion would be of any value to me. I was sort of in shock when I found out he was a musician in the 80's, playing in the Teardrop Explodes and (one of my favourite bands) Echo and the Bunnymen. He also managed both bands and started his own record label to release them though - producing 'Crocodiles' (an album that I highly regard as a huge influence on me and the entire Alt Rock music scene spanning the last few decades) along the way.
In terms of for the site, I'm still reasonably confident I can re-edit the footage into several shorter clips, including all the cut footage that I liked myself, but was irrelevant to the brief for the course, in order to make several short and more focused videos.
As for the website itself, I'm putting a lot of effort into learning the basics behind the layout and design of the site. I'm still not exactly understanding everything that goes on with the coding, but I'm getting a better grasp over it with time and I'm starting to do more simple things myself, like adding a comments section to the artists page so visitors can leave messages, and repositioning all the images. It's all up and running online, but I'm still yet to edit the videos for the three bands that I've shot and there's a lot more work to do on the site before I want to start spreading it properly. At the moment there's only rough-cut videos up for the sake of a prototype.
I'm also still unsure about the name. Taking influence from a solo artist I've been working with in the studio here in Tremough, I thought 'Music and Money' would be suitable for a site that attempts to explore the motivation behind music - after one of his songs we recorded with two mics, an old 3/4 size guitar and in one take. But 'Music and Money' was already taken, so I settled with 'Music or Money', a different implication altogether, but relevant nonetheless. So this is the site URL for now:
www.musicormoney.co.uk
I haven't been using the recording studio as much as I'd like to this term, the work load in the second year is definitely a contrast and I've found myself with a lot less free time. Hopefully I'll be doing some sessions with at least one artist before the holidays, and I'm determined to find myself some Dartington students to start working with at the beginning of next year.
I've also been working on a framework for a short story to pass time occasionally. I've come up with something I think I like, a sort of beginning, middle and end, and I'm starting to build on it when I get a chance. At the moment it's about 8,500 words long and I'm aiming to get a complete narrative of between 10 and 15,000 words - mainly because I never actually finish anything. I've decided if I don't worry about length, and just focus on a finished structure of a story. I can decide to leave it or build on it as I please.
The first line is: "This is the first thing I have ever understood."
Thursday, 15 July 2010
'Inception'
Friday, 9 July 2010
Dublin
Sunday, 13 June 2010
'West Wing'
Saturday, 12 June 2010
Future Ideas
Thursday, 3 June 2010
I want to do this!
I was happy to find out that the mastermind behind the idea was Vincent Moon, a name I was familiar with from a music-documentary of Arcade Fire called 'Miroir Noir', a very unusual and inspiring documentary following the band through both the recording and touring process. Moon shoots and directs lots of independent music-based films as well as lots of music videos for a lot of bands I love from the Alt. Rock ("Indie" - in its true sense) genre.
I've been trying to come up with a solid idea of a project to set myself this summer. Initially I was leaning towards a straightforward documentary following my friends band that are doing fairly well for themselves at the moment. But I've always been drawn to the concept of both guerrilla filming and guerrilla gigs and I'm really keen to take influence from this and make use of the massive quantities of quality musicians I know back home in Brighton and maybe create a digital network incorporating loads of mini videos. Perhaps beginning by making them myself and then allowing people to add their own.
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
'Outliers'

For my birthday my dad bought me three books. The first I've already started reading, is the latest from Malcolm Gladwell. I enjoyed 'Blink' so much I'd go straight onto this one before the work of another author.
'Blink' went on to discuss the mechanics of emotion and how the muscles of the face's reaction to a feeling, displaying emotion, is linked to the bodies reaction and how if a person manipulates those muscles, effectively recreating the combination of movements that form the facial expression displaying anger, the body will react as if the person is actually angry, ie. their heart rate will increase and palms will sweat, the person will grow disorientated and find it harder to think rationally. Similarly, if a person watches a comedy with a pencil between their teeth, prohibiting their muscles from forming a smile, the person will react differently to normal, finding it less funny.
It also discussed the workings of Autistic minds, "mind-reading" (forming and reading facial expressions) and the theory of the state of 'arousal'. Using policemen as examples, Gladwell talks about the rush of adrenaline in vital situations when your heart rate increases, causing your brain to shut down and block out what it deems unnecessary information. During this state of arousal, a police officer can block out surrounding noise/gunfire, focus onto people or objects with enhanced vision and experience a slow-down of time. However, if the arousal increases, so does the heart-rate and brain's reaction, which can shut down so many parts of your brain that you can become effectively useless, even to the point of having no control over your body, unintentionally voiding your bowels and not being able to move or act.
His next book, 'Outliers', tackles the circumstances of success, "changing the way we think about what makes us unique". The first few chapters are dedicated to introducing how he's going to achieve this, beginning with 'proving' how what month you're born in proves vital to your success as an sportsman. Gladwell claimes that this 'evidence' "tells us that our notion that it is the best and the brightest who effortlessly rise to the top is much too simplistic."
Again, it's a very innovative and original idea, using other peoples work, theory and discoveries to build on and strengthen his own.
I particularly like a quote from 'the Times' on the back of this book. "He is the best kind of writer - the kind who makes you feel like you're a genius, rather than that he's a genius."
Monday, 31 May 2010
More Recording Studio Practise
Last week I recorded the drums for the Audio track we're using in our Music Video project, which I need to finish mixing this week. I also recorded two acoustic artists, also students at Falmouth in the hour I had spare. I've uploaded the audio for two of the tracks (rough-mixes) with a picture of my drum set-up as it's easier to upload video than audio.
Both recordings are intended as demo's so the artist can then work on what they want out of the track, so I can then experiment with different microphones/sounds to suit their ideas as well as working on multi-tracking and harmonies and maybe some extra instrumentation, in a full session in the next few weeks.
Simon Boult - 'Blood'
Aimee Wright
Saturday, 29 May 2010
Writing Excerpts
“I haven’t been dreaming lately.”
“What do you think that means?”
I tell her I don't know, but I think I do.
************
None of this shakes me like it used to, not even the hand on my knee – it’s not even there. None of this seems like it matters anymore. What does any of this achieve? The room is dark and dusty and the sofa I sit on is of little comfort. The place is crowded and people drift past me, I don’t even hear the clunk of their shoes and their stumbling across the floorboards. They travel awkwardly and loudly but it doesn’t phase me, not as long as this hand is upon me.
I feel like I feel when there’s nothing left.
One hand holding but the other does nothing.
************
“I don’t know.” I say monotonously, dully, unanimated, lifeless. “I don’t know,” I mumble, and again; “I don’t know.”
Inside I’m screaming. Inside I’m crying. Inside I’m apologising. Begging her. Praying.
************
It doesn’t actually take an apology to keep Liz happy, but instead something much worse. When I see her next she embraces me and doesn’t let go for what feels like an age, and she cries. She grips my back and I do my best to return the favour with equal force but I feel like I’m holding onto nothing. And when I kiss her, her lips seem solid and cold and taste of nothing but skin, only more bitter. And when I wake up with her loving arms around me, I wake up alone.
“I wish we could just stay in bed forever.” She tells me and then sighs, pathetically.
What do I wish for? A shorter tomorrow.
************
I look towards Pat. He says nothing. I just want him to notice. My eyes are red and swollen, my cheeks are wet and my hands are shaking, but this is just as visible to him as the blood running down my leg underneath my jeans. He says nothing.




