PERSONAL RECORD

PERSONAL: ˈpəːs(ə)n(ə)l (adjective) 1. belonging to or affecting a particular person rather than anyone else.
2. of or concerning one’s private life, relationships, and emotions rather than one’s career or public life.
(noun) NORTH AMERICAN 1. an advertisement or message in the personal column of a newspaper.

Screaming for Rosalind

Video | | Paul Greer

Dear Lonesome Reader,

This is proper, spill my guts out time.

Screaming for Rosalind is a very short piece of animation I made a very time long ago.

It is part of a 5 minute film called “Commercials for Everyday Life”, which got itself shown at the 1991 london Film Festival alongside the work of industry legends such as Liz Whitaker and the Quay Brothers.

 

No computers were touched during the making of this work. It’s all peg bars, pencils, paper, rostrum cameras and 16mm.

The voice was provided by esteemed stage and screen actress, Veronica Quilligan, who took my inane teenage poem and imbued it with a life and gravity I could never have imagined.

The drawing is a bit crap and the animation a bit clunky, but its the only part of the film I can currently bear to watch all the way through.

 

Who knows, when I become more immune to internet dignicide, I may choose to post the other four parts.

13/03/01 – 14/03/01

Image | | Paul Greer
“…in the back of a pre-paid taxi, driving up Park Street, the route I used to take everyday to get to work. From the window I watch people walking up the hill, and I think of the act of walking, stepping, placing one foot in front of the other, feeling the pressure of the ground under your feet, moving forward with the power of both legs. This is something I haven’t done for three weeks now. My right leg is already thinner than the left. At this stage, I’m not sure if this is because of the extra exercise my left leg is getting, mostly hopping, or the lack of exercise in the right, causing muscle wastage. The lack of mobility is producing not so much cabin fever, but a yearning for the outside, fresh air, the wind on my face, the sound of birds singing. these things I only experience at the moment during the mad lurch from building to vehicle and back again. With luck, the recovery process should coincide with the advent of spring. I’m looking forward to swimming again, once the plaster has been removed and I’ve had enough physio….”

Fortune: “When I was an alien, cultures weren’t opinion.”