Saturday, November 30, 2013

Creative Drama Journal
To quote a man I admire, “How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?” Dr. Seuss opened up my world of creativity at a very early age and since then I have felt as though my creativity, like time, has been fleeting. When I was young I read comic books and delved into fantasy novels, engulfed by imagined worlds and fascinated by the fact that such worlds were thought of by the creativity of others. I also enjoyed playing video games and watching television, but more importantly I had a passion for movies. Others claimed that these divergents bogged down the imaginations of my generation, producing individuals who had trouble thinking creatively on their own. Then the Internet happened, and furthered this suspicion. Growing up, my imagination expanded by the creative outlets like TV, video games, comic books, or movies. They showed me how creative a human being could be. It inspired me to write, I had a knack for writing even though my handwriting was (and is still) atrocious. My English teachers braved my chicken scratches to tell me that I wrote creatively. However in retrospective, in ways I might not truly understand (maybe it was puberty), it felt as though my creativity peaked while I was in middle school and silently laid dormant in me through high school. My passion and fascination with art, writing, entertainment, and all other faucets of mankind's creative thrives never went away even though my own creativity felt numb. Then I graduated community college, transferred to San Diego State University, and enrolled in Creative Drama.

This semester my creativity was reawakened, when I went into my major I thought my chances of being creative in my education and in my future career in education were slim. Creative Drama is acting class, writing class, and an internship as a TA all rolled into one experience. We had the unique privilege of being students in the class and also had our opportunities to be teachers. Our first group project with a partner was exciting and rewarding, after seeing everyone else present their projects made me anxious to creatively prove my worth to others when it came to our time. Then individually for my storytelling presentation I wanted to showcase my talents and knowledge, however I felt as though I clammed up and didn't get to everything I wanted. I took acting in high school and in my community college, when I go on stage I do best when working off of someone and focus my concentration almost as if the audience wasn't even there. On my own, I feel the weight of it all more and more. Nevertheless, chances like my storytelling project do not happen a lot to me and it aspires me to seek out such chances in the future so that I can grow comfortably presenting and informing in front of others. My lesson plan for the Newberry novel and the lesson plan on my group topic, have taught me that you can indeed be creative as an educator (it is even necessary). Creating the activities allowed me to explore as both a student and a teacher. These are activities I will go back time and again to reference in my future career, I can't wait to see them come to fruition. Among having a revived creativity, I now have new aspirations of pursuing a career as a Drama or Theatre teacher. I've always loved the theatre, it is the oldest form of entertainment. To me, creativity and entertainment are deeply linked. We are the only animals on the face of the planet that is conscious of our own existence, creative entertainment sort of lightens this burden for us. Life is very serious and also very short. We have very little time together, so instead of fighting or frustrating ourselves with our own metafiction, we should enjoy ourselves. Another man I admire, Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “We must use time creatively,” and only now I am truly beginning to understand what that means. I have enjoyed profoundly our time together in Theatre 310: Creative Drama, it is rare to have a experience that tests you creatively. In my near future I will find more experiences to test my creativity so that it will continue to be healthy and may grow. Creativity is something that should never feel fleeting.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Ruins (a screenplay by Peter Williams)

Ext. RUINED SUBURBS - LATE AFTERNOON

A YOUNG MAN tattered by survival is walking nonchalantly down the middle of a desolate and demolished street. His footsteps echos out into the air, a crow “caws” in the distance. He smirks silently to himself even though he looks worse for wear.

CUT TO:

The street is littered with abandoned cars, the orange glow from the sun reflects off of their metal. It is not likely that the young man will be run over, the once busy suburbia is just a ghostly version of itself. He passes ransacked colonial style houses with empty front yard playgrounds. Perching his head up, there is the sound of bicycle clanging ahead of him.

CUT TO:

1st Person POV - Young man

A STRANGER in a dirty red hoodie is cycling towards the young man, a wooden baseball bat pokes out from the duffle bag securely wrapped around the back. The hood cloakes the stranger’s face.

CUT TO:

1st Person POV - Stranger

There are dirty and bruised hands on the handlebars while the young man draws closer and closer in front of us.

CUT TO:

1st Person POV - Young man

Just before the masked rider speeds by the young man, the hood blows back off of her head. The stranger is a GIRL with big brown eyes and short hair.

CUT TO:

While heading towards the camera, the young man smiles and blurts out.

YOUNG MAN
He-Hello!

The female cyclist passes the young man out of shot. He shuts his eyes for a moment and then opens them, shrugging off the chance meeting.

CUT TO:

The young man continues his route.

GIRL
(V.O.)
Hey!

CUT TO:

The girl slowly glides back into the shot and slows down beside the young man. Stepping off her bike, she shoulders it and keeps pace with him.

CUT TO:

The two travelers leisurely meander through the apocalyptic environment of the background.

GIRL
Do I know you?

YOUNG MAN
No… I don’t think so.



GIRL
Are you from the neighborhood? I mean- before or after?

CUT TO:

Sitting in the backseat among the fallen passengers of a vehicle, through the broken glass from the window of the driver’s side door the young man and girl come into the shot.

CUT TO:

The couple’s head turn as they leave behind a disabled minivan with a compressed front and the remains of a family that did not survive.

YOUNG MAN
(V.O.)
After…

CUT TO:

Their pace slows as they continue through the suburbs.

GIRL
Do you have food? Do you have a place to stay?

They stop and face each other.

YOUNG MAN
Not really…

GIRL
I found extra food. My place is not far, we can get there before it gets dark.

CUT TO:

Ext. HOUSE - SUNSET

The travelers stop in front of an old white victorian with cracked windows and hanging panes. The large wooden panel front doors are wide open, the front yard is filled with furniture and miscellaneous household items.

YOUNG MAN
(V.O.)
This is uh… Where you stay?

GIRL
(V.O.)
Not really… Come on, I’ll show you.

CUT TO:

EXT. SIDE OF HOUSE - SUNSET

Along the side of the house in a walkway narrowed by the neighbors weatherbeaten fence, the couple reach the outer entrance to the basement.

GIRL
This is an old house. I don’t think it had a basement like this.

CUT TO:

The basement’s angled metal shutters are tightly sealed by an elaborate chainlink with a lock. Above it on the side of the house is a small rectangular sliding glass window. The young man examines the lock.

GIRL
Whoever lived here was planning for something. I don’t think they expected what happened.

YOUNG MAN
Did anyone…

CUT TO:

The young man shakes the chains.

GIRL
I never got that to open. But I can get in easy enough.

CUT TO:
The girl lets the bike fall onto the ground.

CUT TO:

She fingers the small sliding glass window, it slides jaggedly and sticks several times before she has it ajar. She takes off her duffle bag squeezing it and the bat through the opening.

GIRL
Mi casa es su casa.

The girl lays flat on the shutters to the basement and inches into the side window. The young man sees her feet disappear.

CUT TO:

INT. Basement - Night

Inside, the basement is trashed. Whatever was organized is now spilled and cluttered. As the young man slides in with relative ease from the side window collapsing to a conveniently placed mattress, the girl is frantically rummaging through the room.

GIRL
Shit, shit, shit!

The young man picks himself up, keeping distance from the girl.



GIRL
Shit, shit, shit! How the hell did this happen again!

She screams in frustration, picks up her bat and starts swinging it at shelves and other breakable furniture.

CUT TO:

The young man’s eyes follow the girl’s hysterical violence.

FLASHBACK TO:

EXT. House - DAY

1st Person POV

From across the street, the girl climbs out of the side window of the old victorian house. She puts on her bag, slides her bat into it, gets on her bike and rides out of shot. The camera races towards the side of the house.

CUT TO:

The young man frantically jerks on the chain and lock of the basement doors. He then finds the window.

MONTAGE OF DIFFERENT DAYS AND INSTANCES
A) The girl leaves, the young man enters the basement through the window.
B) The young man exits with assorted food spilling out of his arms.
C) The girl leaves again, the young man enters and emerges with bottles of water.
D) The girl leaves again, the young man re-enters
E) In one instance the young man leaves with only an apple.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT

Falling to her knees the girl drops the bat and hides her face in her hands.

GIRL
(Sobbing)
Who is doing this to me?

The young man approaches her and kneels beside her. He slowly embraces her.

YOUNG MAN
I-I love you…