Scrolls from Sir Charlie

Last Monday, I started a new studio (aka a class) at NUVU called the art of documentary filmmaking. The goal of this studio is to make a short documentary about accessibility in the next three weeks. All of last week we talked about the technical aspects, getting used to the cameras and trying to figure out the best angles. Specifically, we learned about: “Rule of Thirds” (which is when you place your main object in the crosshairs of the camera located every third of the image) The depth of field (the object that is not in focus, is more or less in focus depending on what the depth is) The composition (what is in the frame, is just as important as what is out of the frame) Different kinds of light (natural, artificial, etc.) We watched a few short documentaries and talked about what made them good, for example, the camera angles, the lighting, depth, etc. I think I want to make a documentary about disabled people in wheelchairs, or the similar

For the last few weeks, I have been at a new school called NUVU Studio  in Cambridge, MA. I will be continuing at this school for the rest of the year.  I hav e a very different daily schedule than what I did when I was at the Healey School. I wake up at 6:30 in the morning, taking a half an hour to slowly get my brain working. I then eat and do all of my morning activities until 7:30. At that time, I complete about forty-five minutes of math on Khan Academy. After doing Khan, I walk into Davis Square and take the Red Line (subway) to Central Square. I get to school at around 9:00 and usually start work on my project until lunch. I am allowed many more freedoms now, which was quite disconcerting for my first few days. I am still not used to the fact that lunch is an hour long and I'm able to just get up and leave the building without anyone telling me it's lunchtime. After lunch, I work on my project for the rest of the day. To get home, I take the Red Line back and do a shor

There’s a demon in my attic I see water dripping from my roof I pack my bag with snacks and tools To help me find my proof I climb sneakily on a stool Ascending upwards to the room Sweat flowing down my cheeks As I contemplate my doom I see stacked boxes in a wall That could be hiding the beast My mouth curves in appall As I imagine myself as his feast I jump to reach my goal To see a large shadow And in hand my vicious ski pole I run at my foe To see him turn with a spade I realized he only wanted to make a garden He wore a sweater that was crocheted I slowly considered a pardon Realizing he only wanted a garden