I’m Not A Douche, I Just Look Like One
After being a judge for Narrative Films, both long and short form, for the third annual Greenpoint Film Festival, I was lucky enough to host the Short Form Narrative Panel discussion on Saturday September 21.
I got to meet filmmakers Peter Sasowsky, Oona Mekas, Dylan Allen and Producer Billy Gregoriadis. Peter directed short form winner Mojave, which starred the lovely and talented Oona Mekas and Oona wrote and directed The Sleepy Man, Dylan wrote and directed Epilogue and Billy produced The Windmere Guest. We had a lively and spirited discussion about their projects and their future projects. It was fun and I’m fairly certain everyone on the panel had a good time.
I ran across this photo last night and you wouldn’t know that by looking at this:
You wouldn’t know by looking, but it was only with the aid of Dr. X was I able to even do this. Clearly, Peter is saying something either engaging or profound (he’s a pretty bright guy) and I seem to be thinking “Oh yea Peter?”
I can say with almost complete certainty I was thinking “Shit, what do I say after he’s done?” Jesus, I’m not sure I could look more full of myself.
Isn’t it funny how insecurity and fear can so often present themselves as confidence bordering on arrogance?
Anyway, I saw this last night and it reminded me of two things. One, that panel was a lot of fun and the films I saw for the festival were all really great. Secondly, I absolutely HATE having photos of myself being taken.
UNLESS, I get to make faces and look like an ass:
Now, it may appear as though I am having a seizure of sorts or that my eye has been sewn shut and I am out to dinner without my eye patch. Sadly, that’s what I look like when I wink at the wife.
I got mad lady killing skillz…yo.