I’m excited to report that my short poetry film “Then Came the Firestorm” has been named an Official Selection at the Make Art Not Fear festival – coming to you all the way from Porto, Portgual. But wait … there’s more! Another one of my poetry films (“Dear Leviathan”) was also selected! Super huge thanks to the organizers of this cool festival, the one with the best name.
While waiting in an airport security line, I saw the usual signs. No sharp objects. No flammable substances. No firearms. Then my attention was drawn to a large image of a grenade with a red slash through it. Is this what we’ve come to, I thought?
That’s where this song came from.
I’m very excited to report that my short film “Then Came the Firestorm” is an official selection at the San Francisco International Short Film Festival, which will take place online (Sept 17 – 26) and – here’s the super exciting part – at the Roxie Theater (Sept 18) in my hometown of San Francisco, California.
I’ve been attending movies at the Roxie for longer than I can remember … so it’s mindblowing to think my short film will be shown at this landmark venue.
I’m excited (and honored) to report that “He Runs” has been selected to play at a number of film festivals in 2021. The most recent selections include:
– Sidewalk Film Festival, Birmingham, AL (Aug 23 – 29)
– Montreal International Black Film Festival (Sept 22 – Oct 3)
– Midwest Video Poetry Festival, Wisconsin (Oct 8 – 9)
Honored & Humbled. My short, short animated film “He Runs” is an official selection at the Halifax Black Film Festival … thank you to the organizers. And huge thanks to everyone who played a part in the movie (including Andrew Dixon for the inspired soundtrack).
Check out the festival online (Feb 23 – 28).
Fingers pressed tight
I clench the callous-making strings
And recall the thunder in your walls.
Smokey, Alfie, Jimmy Crucifix, and more
Held down the funkified groove
For the hounds at the gate and
An army of punks and rockers.
The carpet is worn,
The soda machine sold beer,
And my ears ring for joy.
Then, in a nanosecond eternity
A guitar cries in my dream,
A million candles ignite, and …
I pause to inhale one last blast of instant nirvana.
Thank you, Carole Lennon
And all the staff over the years
For the refuge you gave.
An hour or three at a time.
From the small rooms
To the soundstage
To the bones in the hallway.
As you dim the lights
And shut the door,
We salute you.
(Written to mark the closing of Lennon Studios’ hourly space – 1984 to 2020)
