Notes on Anticipation

A Sunny and Beautiful Weekend in Rio de Janeiro
Sunrise till Sunset

- First a Rio sight
- Show the beaches (Copacabana and Ipanema)
- People who live in Rio
- Carioca's lifestyle
- Sports on the beach
- End of the day and sunset

Notes of Anticipation

The montage opens up with an out of focus shot of a city
A couple strolls in the rain.
They chat over coffee. They've been together a while.
The two go home together
and spend the night as is their habit
the next morning is pale and sweet
She wakes up first, in patterns of sunlight
and walks to the window
He wakes up in her shadow
and they meander to the lake.
On the way she spots a black bird that reminds her of Sylvia Plath's Black Rook
She chases after him and his whole flock swarms into the sky.
Months pass that way. They stay together.
Only something changes infinitesimally
a second heartbeat joins her own
and she worries about the timing.
As they shower he reassures her
and she listens.
Months go by and her stomach swells.
At night, she begins dreaming of the raven she chased.
But the raven in her dreams is dead.
Her child panics inside her
She wakes up startled most nights
The dreams won't stop
She showers often to wash away the feeling of dread but some things don't come out with soap and hot water.
She feels a sharp pull in her abdomen and
her eyes widen
as she clutches her belly.
In the hospital
they tell her she is minus one heart beat.
She pulls the hospital blankets up over herself like it will hide the loss
her partner is distraught
Days later they release her and her husband finds her stairing vacantly sitting in her hospital gown
that night she sobs in the bathtub
her partner can only offer his company
She lies borderline catatonic on the couch for hours and stares at animal fetuses in jars
It's been years since the trip to the hosptial.
She sleeps all day plagued by nightmares of the raven
She begins to hallucinate in the shower;
a woman, a duplicate of herself. Distorted and crazed.
she recoils
but one can only take so much torment in one lifetime
She immerses herself in the water and her doppleganger disappears.
She's thankful for the relief after months of suffering.
He finds her that way hours later.
She didn't come back up.

Notes on Anticipation

- First view, the roaring ocean, loud & startling
- Loud sea turns to typical fogged over calm sea & bridge
- driving the bridge, fogged burned away, radio plays
-look out the window, first view of city
- another look at the bridge
-exploring the city, windy road, city noise
- streets wind up, city view expands out
- over the rooftops, seemingly perfect houses
- look closer and see the human sprawl of the city
- see the people
- crowds push against you
- gets louder, night time city is still alive
- escape to country, where is she going?
- trail expands ahead, empty
- companions join you
- you walk along and look up, sky scrapers turn to trees
- looking closer, leaves blow in the wind
- wind is louder
- you keep going forward
- higher
- higher view once again expands in front of you
- top is close, wind is loud
- the top!
- take a moment
- climb the tippy top wind is even louder
- backdown quieter moments
- sits down joining friends
- family table set
- time to clear, quiet and calm again
- end but beginning to start over, stairs lead to.....

Notes on Anticipation

I tried to make actual phrases that flowed and told a story, with each line representing each photo. I'm not 100% sure if I did this correctly. I want to use this as a narrative for my video.

Just another beautiful day in Apalachicola, Florida.

The sun brightening our town.

The water flowing up the river.

Right on the edge of the state on the panhandle.

The tourist pay to come here

But the best part of our area is free.

I’m talking about the nature.

The land, water, and animals.

We don’t have a backyard,

We have a water front.

The long stretch of water is the Apalachicola Bay.

There is no McDonalds, no Walmart

And the closest mall is 2 hours away.

We only have one traffic light.

We run off the nature,

We live off the water.

We’re known for our seafood, nature, and history.

They call us the oyster town.

Best food in town is in my kitchen

Chef mom and dad.

The best scenes in town are right out our door.

The history is everywhere you turn.

The tourists want us to tear down any old houses.

We don’t want to do that.

We could never do that.

We want to save our past.

We need to save our past

Tradition is what we thirst for.

We don’t have much.

But we love every single thing we have.

From the old oyster shells

to the old abandoned houses.

Our town is unique.

It’s peaceful

It’s perfect

It’s Apalachicola.

Notes on Anticipation

I’m going to try my poetic best with this.  I’ve split my notes into “movements,” which signify a new day/window.

Snow powdered branches extend into

A field softened by silent snowfall

Disappearing into a tangle of branches

~

This world waits behind a window, untouched by the rustling humans within

Unsung, the bird feeder empty and

The trees exhale, the only observers in the stillness.

Footprints: the stillness has been broken, the secret has been spoken

The footprints stop at the heel of a man, rolling the snow

A bird appears

A woman rolls more snow as a snowman waits to be born.

A cardinal looks on

While a faceless snowman ponders the personality he will have

The cardinal looks right

And passes authority to the fully realized snowman.

~

White lace frames the start of another winter day behind the window

The cat marks an indefinite moment when neither he nor the snowman questioned the other’s existence

The trees extend their fingers to the sky

And a bird welcomes the day at the birdfeeder

But today is not the same- green pine needles hint at winter’s end

The snowman begins to crumble under the pressure

A patch of green competes with the slouching figure

The ground below shakes off the snow

His spindly arms carry the weight of his collapsing

And the birds’ feet bid him farewell

As the guardian of winter seeps into the pool of-

-delicate white flowers,

and the stillness of summer

The sunlight peeking through the canopy of leaves

Melts into a sunset over a once barren field

The yellow of the setting sun burns holes into a solitary leaf, orange with autumn

Nothing gold can stay, but the cycle does remain