“Floating” by Klaus Schulze 1976
Just let it spill onto the page
Seven of us are listening to this track from Klaus’ not very famous German electronica album, “Moondawn” (1976). Kind of like early New Age.
Floating is the first track on the Moondawn album. I’m in class. Last day at Uni. Facilitating. Writing anything that springs to mind, just like my students. Anything at all. I’ve asked my students to put their writings up on their BLOG, so I also have to bite the bullet. That’s the reason for this entry.
Naturally, I’m now thinking of all the things to do with family, friends and sensitive information that should never be written on a public BLOG. Lest it come back to bite me on the nose.
And yet, when Dad was dying, I couldn’t give a toss. I put everything up here. It’s interesting to think, but I’m quite a different person now than I was when Dad was living. I’m not turned on by the same things anymore. I see film-making as a dying art form – the industry barely fueling itself on the insecurities of others. The narcissim of wannabes. The audience, actors, film-makers. I see no success that I want to emulate. In fact, I don’t even want success in the usual sense. Success seems a rather empty and hollow concept. It’s a label one person puts on another. Who has teh right to do that? The authority? It was once The Church. Perhaps now it’s The State. Success in film-making means that your film has been seen by millions of people. Not thousands (as is the staple audience of any successful Australian film). Even TV shows have a wider audience. And there’s the rub. A high-rating show like “All Saints” gets axed. Or simply finishes. Most people “watching” that show were probably making tea in the kitchen, or talking to friends, or sitting on the toilet while it played. Who knows just how many empty rooms those poor actors were pouring their souls out to. And so the career paths for all Australian film-makers and practitioners – is to go to the US – where there are more empty living rooms to play to. More people to call you a success. More propping up of the outer. Less and less emphasis on the inner world. What kind of reality is that in terms of having achieved something? It’s really crazy.
And so here I am.
In my little class with only 7 students attending (today). To me, a happy little class where I’ve tried to drill in the rigors of dramatic screenwriting, married with futurism, distribution models and a general projection of entertainment and storytelling for the human race. A class made up, some of film-makers, others media students, others just . . . hopeful.
So what is it I’m doing?
I’ve been teaching since 1995. TAFE, Edith Cowan. Now I’m here at Curtin. Nobody will read this according to my stats. Shall I write? Who reads? Who shall I write for? I am at that age. I am at the age where things change. Maybe I’ve been in a bit of a rut? Seeing Dad die gave me some perspective on the futile quest for popularity that film-making can be. And yet I still love making films. And can get very passionate about it. But wonder where it’s taking me. Has taken me.
And so I ride my bicycle.
