I was really tired before practice last time. Doing the sword and empty-handed forms helped somewhat, but I just wasn’t feeling it. I began pushing with Mr. V, with predictable results. He’s learned to control the direction of his force, but he is just as tense and rigid as ever. Fighting power with power. I was no better, though. In fact I was awful, seemingly unable to yield as much as I should. At one point he shoved me off balance, which caused me to come down hard on my uninjured leg, which meant almost crashing down on Mr. V’s front knee. He gave me a hard look, as if I had done it on purpose, and left practice early.

I continued pushing with Mr. V’s friend, who was just as committed to brute force. In my particular state of mind, things deteriorated rapidly. Teacher Xu watched us push, chiding me on my lack of technique. “You know how to do this,” he told me. “You’ve written about it in your blog!” But I was just hopeless.

Later on, Teacher Xu introduced me to a new student, a foreigner from South Africa named Kenny. Kenny has a good build for tuishou as well as several earrings. He’s already studied some forms and so has a good basis. As we pushed, I caught myself “instructing,” something I usually try to avoid. Pushing with Kenny was a great remedy for the violent WWF-style tuishou I’d been struggling with previously. Just back-and-forth with subtle variations. Mr. You is good for that as well. As is Yang Qing-feng. So I wasn’t in too bad a temper by the time class was over. I feel I’ve hit a block, though. I feel like I’m useless when it comes to pushing with certain people. My friend Boogie would know how to deal with it, as he is a former wrestler. I have no idea, though.

Perhaps the answer lies in the forms. I’m thinking of adding another class, possibly on Tuesdays, so I can work more on forms. We’ll see if that works out.

I just got word from CTS that they will be airing Lady X: Clay Soldiers at 11:30pm on February 3rd on channel 11, and again at the same time on February 19th. Our first nationwide broadcast!

I’m still editing. I plan to spend the Chinese New Year holiday at home, hopefully finishing the rough cut. So far the film is corresponding on the whole 1 script page=1 minute screen time thing. One thing I’m often reminded of is how differently Dean and I see things. Often we’ll see a scene almost exactly the same way, but inevitably his vision will be the mirror image of mine, e.g. I’ll see the characters entering stage left, while he’ll see them entering stage right. It might have something to do with the fact that I’m left handed. The result is that the storyboards are often mirror images of the actual footage, which can be confusing. I wonder if left-handed directors often encounter this kind of thing.

I haven’t met any insurmountable goofs yet, though I’ve had a couple of interesting challenges where, after repeated takes, someone did something to screw up the continuity. Many times it was my fault. “What was I thinking?” is probably my most repeated comment these days.

I was reading a post on an Internet forum the other day, and I began to wonder if and when the “exclusivity” of an industry like filmaking will disappear, and what effect it will have on people aspiring to make films. What percentage of the people who desire to be filmmakers, or authors or photographers, are in it because they still cling to the ever-more-outdated notion that you have to be really special to be one of those things, when technology has passed the point where anyone, regardless of talent or lack thereof, can be any and all of those things? With online distribution of digital content rapidly taking over the game, I wonder what lengths the next generation of creators will have to go to to make themselves known to the world.

I guess we’re going to find out. In the meantime, I have editing to do.

I was late to class last Wednesday after meeting some friends for dinner. When I got to the monument I counted 15 students practicing, a lot more than before. I quickly went through the forms and started doing tuishou with Mr. You, who is harder to “catch” these days it seems. I then pushed with Mr. V. Something was wrong, though. I wasn’t really in a good frame of mind, and my ego kept getting in the way. Maybe it was all the new people; I find myself caring too much what they think of me, and it’s hard to keep from focusing on just “winning” each and every time. I know that if this continues I will have to force myself to deliberately and repeatedly “lose” until I have no more “reputation” to protect, and maybe then I can get out from under my ego and start learning again. It’s touchy because I am aware that many people see me as a foreigner and that always involves a certain amount of baggage.

Later on Mr. You did tuishou with Teacher Xu, who praised Mr. You’s recent improvement. A lot of the guys who have been doing tuishou originally are looked upon, in the Confucian fashion, as “teaching assistants” of a sort. I hope nobody sees me this way (it’s not likely in any case). I try not to tell anyone how long I’ve been studying, as this just raises unwarranted expectations. So far it’s worked. The truth is that I haven’t been making a great deal of progress lately, but the responsibility for that rests squarely on my shoulders. I’ve been preoccupied with other things and should reset my focus so I can get back into it.

前幾天我和幾位朋友去嘗試一下新開的甜甜圈店. 近一兩年來, 自從天母開發的Mister Donut聯鎖店以來, 那家就變很流行了, 甚至在捷運上平常看得到那種時髦形的女生用Mister Donut的帶子把剛買的

I met up with such community luminaries as Prince Roy, Mark and Battle Panda last night after work. I was the first one there, so while I waited I sat on a sidewalk planter outside the MRT exit gazing vacantly at a lobby I was sure I had entered for some nefarious purpose in 1991.

Mark had an inexplicable hankering for cheesy faux-Italian cuisine, so we headed to the alleys behind Zhongxiao where he knew of some likely candidates all lined up in a convenient row. We picked one and found they had no rice, left just noodles. The soup tasted canned; proof of this was on display along the wall, lined with various Chef Boy-ar-Dee products.

After dinner we headed over to Nanjing East Road to sample the new Dunkin’ Donuts store, despite reports that they’d taken a lot of the sugar out of the recipes to “suit local tastes.” After walking a couple of blocks from the station, the aroma of the shop brought back memories of my childhood.

There was a short line, but nothing anywhere near as egregious as the Mister Donut mobs of yore. The setup was a lot better than MD, too; you just picked up tongs and filled your tray with the donuts you wanted from the shelf, rather than being introduced to a brochure and led one by one to the counter to negotiate your purchase with the cashier.

We loaded up our trays and retired to a table at the back of the store to munch down on our goodies. All of the donuts were good, better than Mister Donut, though the frosting was a bit too waxy on some of the donuts. The regular glazed was exactly the same as the US version as far as I can recall. The chocolate-filled puffs, my childhood favorite, were not as sweet. In fact, the frosting and fillings were noticeably less sweet, though the donuts themselves seemed the same. They’re probably even better earlier in the day when they’re fresh.

I asked the cashier when the next store was opening up and where, but she just said “Soon” and “Couldn’t say.” In any case, it’s bad timing for me, because while I could have enjoyed these all through my twenties, they’re off the menu these days except for special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries or just happening to be in the neighborhood. We’ll see if Dunkin’ Donuts, despite the questionable location of their flagship store, becomes as popular as Mister Donut. You’ll know it when you see fashionable women on the MRT carrying their latest jewelry purchases in old Dunkin’ Donuts bags.

I met up with such community luminaries as Prince Roy, Mark and Battle Panda last night after work. I was the first one there, so while I waited I sat on a sidewalk planter outside the MRT exit gazing vacantly at a lobby I was sure I had entered for some nefarious purpose in 1991.

Mark had an inexplicable hankering for cheesy faux-Italian cuisine, so we headed to the alleys behind Zhongxiao where he knew of some likely candidates all lined up in a convenient row. We picked one and found they had no rice, left just noodles. The soup tasted canned; proof of this was on display along the wall, lined with various Chef Boy-ar-Dee products.

After dinner we headed over to Nanjing East Road to sample the new Dunkin’ Donuts store, despite reports that they’d taken a lot of the sugar out of the recipes to “suit local tastes.” After walking a couple of blocks from the station, the aroma of the shop brought back memories of my childhood.

There was a short line, but nothing anywhere near as egregious as the Mister Donut mobs of yore. The setup was a lot better than MD, too; you just picked up tongs and filled your tray with the donuts you wanted from the shelf, rather than being introduced to a brochure and led one by one to the counter to negotiate your purchase with the cashier.

We loaded up our trays and retired to a table at the back of the store to munch down on our goodies. All of the donuts were good, better than Mister Donut, though the frosting was a bit too waxy on some of the donuts. The regular glazed was exactly the same as the US version as far as I can recall. The chocolate-filled puffs, my childhood favorite, were not as sweet. In fact, the frosting and fillings were noticeably less sweet, though the donuts themselves seemed the same. They’re probably even better earlier in the day when they’re fresh.

I asked the cashier when the next store was opening up and where, but she just said “Soon” and “Couldn’t say.” In any case, it’s bad timing for me, because while I could have enjoyed these all through my twenties, they’re off the menu these days except for special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries or just happening to be in the neighborhood. We’ll see if Dunkin’ Donuts, despite the questionable location of their flagship store, becomes as popular as Mister Donut. You’ll know it when you see fashionable women on the MRT carrying their latest jewelry purchases in old Dunkin’ Donuts bags.

I’ve been editing the film, trying to get a rough cut done before Dean gets back following the Chinese New Year break, which should be in late February. I allow myself only a little tweaking before moving on to the next scene, because I can’t afford to spend the time on it.

Digital editing is considered far more convenient than editing film. My digital editing style, with two screens, one for taking parts of clips to put into the timeline and another for the timeline itself, is derived from how I learned to edit on a two-screen Steenbeck editing table in New York, with a black curtain of labeled scenes in the form of film strips hanging from a rack next to me. I have the script open in another window and my storyboards laid out on the desktop as I edit. The lack of a solid medium is frustrating in that it could all go south with one computer glitch. I’m planning to edit the film in three parts, roughly corresponding to the acts of the film, but we’ll see how it goes. It is becoming clearer as I go that I will probably have no problem filling up 90 minutes. This is a big film, and I will most likely have to spend quite a bit of time going back and pruning later on.

I enjoy editing, though, particularly my own footage, and going back to piece together scenes that were shot as long as a couple of years ago is a real eye-opener. One the one hand, a lot of things came out better than I had remembered, and fit together very nicely. I’m also discovering small details and moments, subtle looks and nice angles or rhythm that had escaped my notice during the actual filming because I was so busy working the camera and paying attention to other aspects of the production. On the other hand, I’ve also had the displeasure of finding things that didn’t work so well, angles that seem strange, series of flubbed lines that won’t come together or were cut too soon. “What was I thinking?” I will often say aloud. But this just means that I’ve got to find an editing solution and make good on my oft-repeated catch-all promise that “we’ll fix it in post.”

I actually welcome the challenge. The process of editing is making me more optimistic about the film than I have been at any point in the process so far; seeing it come together into a coherent story whose arcs and swells I can mold is very rewarding, and at this point I can only imagine how great they’ll be with music, sound and special effects. I wish I could take leave from my day job and my other responsibilities to edit all day, every day, but it isn’t possible right now.

So, in the meantime, posting on here will probably be pretty scarce. At this point, I’m hoping the project will be completed by this summer.

I haven’t been posting a lot lately because I’m spending just about all of my free time editing. Expect this to continue for a while.

I did get out on Friday night to play at a benefit for Stevie Ray, a local musician friend who lost everything in a fire, including all of his belongings, his instruments and his dog. Various bands gathered at The Living Room and played to raise some money for Stevie and his wife to help them get back on their feet. In the cab on the way I called Prince Roy to see if he wanted to come down; he said he’d stop by.

The Muddy Basin Ramblers were on first. We set up quickly and got playing at about 10pm. My first show with the group was on that stage, in 2004. Hopefully this time around I didn’t make quite as many mistakes.

Although we weren’t fully Ramblered up as far as attire went, I decided in the glare of the stage lights to do the show wearing some old round sunglasses I had lying around. Afterwards, not only did I not get the usual “You seem so angry” comments, people actually said I looked serene on stage. Apparently the key to the phenomenon is my eyes. I must look into this.

After the show I was felt tired. You can see me zoning out in the above picture (courtesy of Kevin Smith). I packed up my stuff and headed back to the green room, but was waylaid by a couple of people wanting to know how I could make the washtub bass sound so much like a stand-up bass. I explained as best I could (mainly I just guess where the notes are) and walked back to the green room, where Stevie was tuning a borrowed guitar for the show. I plopped down on a mat and took a nap, as the show was going to go late and I wanted to be awake for any last-minute jamming.

A little later I got a message from Prince Roy; it turned out that he had been standing right in front of me after the show, and I didn’t even notice him. Sorry about that, my liege.

The show did go late. All in all, seven bands performed. I watched from the doorway next to Parti, a Sri Lankan friend of mine who has a shaved head and goatee, and Conor. At one point, as Stevie Ray was in the middle of a quiet solo, a largish foreigner turned around suddenly and threw a beer bottle at the people at the table behind him, shouting at them to shut the hell up. Luckily, the bottle didn’t hit anyone.

By the time it was over, nobody was much in the mood for a large-scale jam, and many of the key musicians had already left, so it just didn’t happen. We wished Stevie the best of luck and went down to the street to hail cabs home.

I haven’t been posting a lot lately because I’m spending just about all of my free time editing. Expect this to continue for a while.

I did get out on Friday night to play at a benefit for Stevie Ray, a local musician friend who lost everything in a fire, including all of his belongings, his instruments and his dog. Various bands gathered at The Living Room and played to raise some money for Stevie and his wife to help them get back on their feet. In the cab on the way I called Prince Roy to see if he wanted to come down; he said he’d stop by.

The Muddy Basin Ramblers were on first. We set up quickly and got playing at about 10pm. My first show with the group was on that stage, in 2004. Hopefully this time around I didn’t make quite as many mistakes.

Although we weren’t fully Ramblered up as far as attire went, I decided in the glare of the stage lights to do the show wearing some old round sunglasses I had lying around. Afterwards, not only did I not get the usual “You seem so angry” comments, people actually said I looked serene on stage. Apparently the key to the phenomenon is my eyes. I must look into this.

After the show I was felt tired. You can see me zoning out in the above picture (courtesy of Kevin Smith). I packed up my stuff and headed back to the green room, but was waylaid by a couple of people wanting to know how I could make the washtub bass sound so much like a stand-up bass. I explained as best I could (mainly I just guess where the notes are) and walked back to the green room, where Stevie was tuning a borrowed guitar for the show. I plopped down on a mat and took a nap, as the show was going to go late and I wanted to be awake for any last-minute jamming.

A little later I got a message from Prince Roy; it turned out that he had been standing right in front of me after the show, and I didn’t even notice him. Sorry about that, my liege.

The show did go late. All in all, seven bands performed. I watched from the doorway next to Parti, a Sri Lankan friend of mine who has a shaved head and goatee, and Conor. At one point, as Stevie Ray was in the middle of a quiet solo, a largish foreigner turned around suddenly and threw a beer bottle at the people at the table behind him, shouting at them to shut the hell up. Luckily, the bottle didn’t hit anyone.

By the time it was over, nobody was much in the mood for a large-scale jam, and many of the key musicians had already left, so it just didn’t happen. We wished Stevie the best of luck and went down to the street to hail cabs home.

After practicing forms, I did tuishou with Mr. You. I find that if I concentrate, I can sense when Mr. You is vulnerable and push him over with a quick burst of energy and/or change of direction. Still, it feels like cheating. I aim to someday be able to push like Teacher Xu, with one inexorable motion that my opponent can do nothing to prevent.

Mr. You will occasionally start narrating his pushing efforts. Strangely enough, he gets much better when he does this. While silent, he’s easier to defeat, but when he starts describing what he’s doing, he suddenly gets a lot better at it.

Next up was Mr. V, who has learned a lot but is still easily stymied if you move back far enough. At first I just let him push and voluntarily took a step back when he started wrestling, WWF-style. This happened many times. Finally I just retreated to a back stance and let him flail. My legs need the workout anyway.

After practice, I’m usually the last to leave, but this time I left a couple of the newer students with Yang Qing-feng, who likes to stay on after class. Qing-feng’s very good, and they’ll probably learn some things from him.