
Yesterday I went to the School of Visual Arts film festival on west 23rd St. It was there that I soon realized that the best seat in the house was the one at the bar across the street. Call me old fashioned but I kinda like to see stories when I go to the movies. Sorry that's just me. And can I just say that, holding a camera up to some one talking is not movie making.
Any how I spent most of my time in the lobby sitting on an ottoman sketching and across the street at a pub watching soccer with an upset crowd of English men pounding pints of Blue Moon. Final score 1-1. Now buzzing off a few pints and a full cigar on an empty stomach I braced my self and headed back into the Theatre. But Oh my God where's my sketch book! Did I leave it in the bar? I had it with me,,,, Oh man this is not good. And there it was jut sitting on the ottoman where I left it. The Lights went down, my faith in humanity was some what restored and soon I wanted to vomit but at least I had my sketch book.