The last project of the undergraduate degree. Fond memories of the studio.

Grim fingers

time like sand slips through the grim fingers

flip the channel shut the brain off let it linger

on the beaches of gravel 

let every pebble that touches the sole

shoot the pain up through the spine 

and let it create a hole

where the thoughts wander and go to get lost 

let the broken pieces of glass enter the feet

and get lodged

lest you forget the dark corners of the conscience

the frigid feeling of blood trickle 

doesn’t really solve much

watch the murder painted sunset

as i walk past the chaos

saunter into the melancholy 

considering a seance

let her visage be covered and carefully camouflaged

littered by my mental spring breakers

and their entourage

i could climb these damn rocks and enjoy the scenery

the fatigued soul is taking a toll on the bare feet

the calves scream like waifs and the thighs shrill

this bare ribbed torso is frozen stiff by the windchill

the thick mist blocks even the echo of my own voice

it’s either the sea water or another kind of saline 

that is filling my eyes and itself is full of malice

whatever it is i am convinced that it is my own choice

whatever it is i am convinced that is was my fault

of all the things she taught me i wish one of them was pole vault

so i could bridge this gap and cross over to the shore

where the sand cushions the aching arches of these sure as sore bones

these skipping stones don’t skip no more 

i hold them with this faint cold grasp of death

weak in the core

every breath feels like an ulcer that bleeds in my throat

i would’ve quit this gig early if i could 

reason like this before

but i didn’t have the guts that now throb in their abode

secretly wishing they plateaued, how do i crack this code?

how do i break this curse? why does this spring have to snow?

will the ghosts stop chasing me if i have somewhere to go?

will the storm pass over me if i stay down and low?

will the bruises heal and scabs form over the cold sores?

parched lips utter a bleak squeal, 

arms hang on uneven keels

i’m leaving my courage with a sign that says “please steal”

the muscles are shot, the nerves of steel are clogged

the mind that once was a fortress now sits as ruins in bogs

the vision that once soared sky-high lies dead as a street dog

the chest that once puffed with pride sinks like a piece of

rusted, corrugated, still the sharp end of an anchor

soon this rust will spread to rest of the body like cancer

soon i will be ready to accept and meet my maker

if i take these final steps i definitely won’t be seeing her later

these skipping stones don’t skip no more 

i hold them with this faint cold grasp of death

weak in the core

every breath feels like an ulcer that bleeds in my throat

i would’ve quit this gig early if i could 

reason like this before

A small collection exhibiting handling of 2d animation, both flash and pencil, and rotoscopy.

An attempt to handle subtitles as integrated part of the video.

  • Camera: Canon EOS 5D
  • Aperture: f/3.5
  • Exposure: 30"
  • Focal Length: 16mm