.:. Red Pearl Movie NEWS .:.

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So Red Pearl, you know the indelible indie feature film I acted in and did the costume design for this past summer, well the rough cut has been sent into the SXSW Tribeca Film Festivals for review! Fingers crossed it makes it into either or both of these awesome festivals! EEEEEK!

<—Here is the postcard image the directors sent out to the Kickstarter funders.

The film is currently picture locked and awaiting it’s finishing touches, such as the sound lock, amazing custom score from my friend and fellow Syracuse University graduate, Steve Woodzell, whose work is really exciting and so having him onboard is an extraordinary thing ;D The film should be finished by summer 2015 at the latest. In the meantime, please check out the website and here are some stillz.

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 AND THE OFFICIAL TRAILER!!!!!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS from 1969

I haven’t blogged in like months. Wow. Well, the holidays came and went and for the second year in a row, my family, bo and I visited the Bethel Woods Center, the museum and venue which now stands on the site of Woodstock in 1969.

It is a religious experience for my parents and for me in that you can feel the essence of those times still thumping and pumping through the veins in the earth there. The museum is gorgeous and well-done and included hundreds of quotes, artifacts, full-size period vehicles decked out in great flower power paint jobs and lots and lots of clips and films showcasing a lot of the concert. Two rooms have at least 18 ft. screens showing footage and actual performances. My favorite, Joe Cocker, the tie-dyed Brit with his blue leather starred beatle boots opens the film show, as I laugh continually at his idiomatic mannerisms and gestures when performing. As a young person, I became enamored with the music and styles of the 1960’s thanks to a pair of hippie parents equally enamored. Spouting every word when tapes and records were on, the second concert of my life was The Monkees at ten or eleven.

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I only wish that my generation and the one younger could react to the current climate in some way similar to that of the Sixties and Seventies. The music, art, literature, and ideologies that emerged from the time of Woodstock brought forth a fervent youth so potent, that change actually came about. These days technology is shielding us from each other and ourselves. We have grown into a “me” culture, hellbent on satisfying our own needs, mostly shallow and selfish. Technology is simultaneously bringing us together and pushing us far far apart. We have lost touch with spirit, sensation, honesty, purity, and singlemindedness in communication. Things claiming they want to bring us together are more so hoping we buy the products advertised in the same places we hope to share time. Life has lost it’s beauty, it’s simplicity, it’s depth, and it’s emotion. I only wish I didn’t have a phone glued to my side all day. I only wish people still called one another and spent time without looking at work emails. We used to connect so much harder and stronger without all of this stuff clogging the airwaves and our brains. Music wasn’t only about creating a complicated algorithm to sell a record in the Sixties. Many many many musicians expelled tunes that were directly in line to their political and social beliefs and dreams. Music was made to create peace, understanding, comradery, hope, anger, outrage. It wasn’t even made, it was often an artistic outlet or even almost regurgitation of feeling. It was pure emotion more oft than not with Richie Havens improvising “freedom” while onstage at Woodstock, a direct anthem for black America and youth in general. Jim Morrison sang of shamanism and death, exposing his need for escapism in music and in life. Janis Joplin’s lyrics might have been simpler, but her raging screams brought light to a fighting angry soul within. Simon and Garfunkel’s peaceful lullabies told us tales of proposed quiet and rest, narratives of the marijuana culture that so desperately searched for life to be a lovely journey. Music was an escape, a newspaper headline, a beating heart trying to get yours to beat along, a lullaby for political sleep, a draft-dodging credo, enlightenment, it was electric and transitory and completely changed what it had been before. There were top 40 songs and there were the DJ’s who gave others a chance, seeing merit in something other than money. Live concerts, like today were experiences together, feelings had in tandem. With hands linked, arms outstretched to the sun, voices raised, and fervor brewing, the children of the 1960’s rocked our world. Why can’t we do that again?

You Never Heeded It


Once upon a time, there was music, true music, involving unadulterated singing, heart-beating drums, carnal sounds, and live live live performances often involving drugs.  These performances were real, they were raw, and they were utterly beautiful, a testament to a time when there was plenty of bad shit going on, but people had to make themselves forget or deal somehow.  Music was mystique, a getaway, a haven, a cabin away from the horrors of war, racism, and degradation of the overzealous human spirit as the 50’s had known it.  The late 60’s and early 70’s produced sounds that swirled with emotion, tempests of instruments and voices, churning out voices of the past, present, and futures of that time. My favorite music of all time is that of the late 1960’s: The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, 13th Floor Elevators, Carmen Maki, Deep Purple, Creedence, Cocker, and onto the 70’s, if there was long hair and fringe, I’m in love.

Once upon a time, there was awesome fucking psychedelic rock that makes me feel like once music was carnal, musicians were entranced, and it wasn’t all about money: FREE MUSIC! FREE LOVE!

I grew up with this stuff and am a lucky girl to have had a dad so well-versed in rock.  I’m not trying to be pretentious but I cannot stomach what comes on the radio these days.

DANCE DANCE DANCE

HOW ABOUT A LITTLE IN-SPIR-AY-SHUN!

FRED & GINGER

SOPHIA PLAYS A SPANIARD

ABBA DOES IT

MICKEY AND DAVEY GETTIN CHEESY

NEVER GONNA GET OLD, DEELITE!

TONE LOC BABY!

god, I love dancing. If only I weren’t watching these and bloggin while in bed ;o)

 

 

Goodbye Letter

The Boxtops’ frontman, Alex Chilton has died at the age of fifty-nine.  This is especially sad because my father got into a fistfight with him in a bar in Carbondale, Pennsylvania in 1969.

You surely granted us your lovely voice, Alex.  RIP.