Feels kind of strange putting up these pictures of the sets before I would paint them, and what what they were--or were not in this case--and that's not mine. But I stole them from Goodwill as admitted before and I had a pretty good idea what I was going to do with them long before I moved to Berkeley.
It started when my friend Matt was dying. He'd never say he was close to death, and in most ways closer to the truth, he wasn't. In fact, it was kind of a joke to say that he was. But we were a cynical lot, that's the nature of our sense of humor. Or it still is.
Matt came down to our home town--let's call it "Los Robles," after the mythical town in my seminal American revolutionary tale. He came because he had/has Crohn's Disease. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crohn%27s_disease) While he was in town he saw what I was starting to do with the action figures and advised that we could do something with them, make a movie with a green screen and all that Final Cut Pro magc that I'd only started to hear about when I knew I wanted to make movies out of collages. And at this point, I was pretty obsessed with this LotA business. I mean I'd already tanked a Math Class for the Humanities at Cuesta College with a pretty bad final project of a zen diagram for the difference between a "Raven and a Writing Desk." So, when Matt said he would help, I pretty much started grabbing up every toy that would reference my next installment, Part Three.
So, here's Matt battling this killer disease and I must have bugged him to death, coming over to his mother's house every day with more toys, more ideas, more script revisions. And Matt you see was totally losing weight, and basically pretty freaked out about the whole thing.
I remember calling him one day and his mother said "he's in the hospital." So I called him. And he sounded so disappointed when he realized it was me, almost as if he was like "what now, what crazy scene do you want me to film? Because I don't have long to live. And I might get a tube the width of a garden hose shoved up my nose and into my stomach to drain the toxic fluids in my stomach."
I was petty out of mind, I think anyways. Sure, there is a bit of me being really hard on myself. But there was a quiet mania I was starting to display, one that my friends gradually noticed. Or had been noticing. I think at this point I was starting to burn every bridge I'd need in San Luis Obispo, if I was going to retreat from this premature invasion of the Rhineland that was my obsession.
I think Matt was the first to think "there's something wrong with Jeffer."
So, when I arrived in Berkeley, I did so with the full intention of starting this movie. Matt temporarily recovered from his illness. He had rented out a warehouse in a part of Oakland where he made his furniture (more on that later), where I could pay rent and have a spot to begin filming this movie. I remember how he got mad when I told him I would stop by his house as soon as I arrived with the first load of stuff, and instead I dropped by Justin's and got stoned.
Eventually, McDonald's found it's way into the warehouse, along with the other sets-to-be-assembled. Matt invited me out to miniature golf and things were fine. I smoked a lot of pot. I cut a lot of meat.
And I thought about cities made out of McDonald's.
But I forget I told you that, ok?