Yardsale
Well-known member
I'd recently sold my Canon XL1s
and was without a videocamera for a while. I'd shot a wedding, some wildlife footage, and some shorts that I never bothered to show anyone.
Then I learned about the IFP sponsoring a competition for non-fiction user created content. I wanted to win that shi* badly. And I had the perfect story too.
On the corner of Van Nuys Blvd. & Burbank Blvd. is a car dealership., And on the corner, there's a weird inset, like a column was carved out. Well I drive by there all the time, and I noticed that a homeless woman had set up shop there. She literally lives out of a tent in that little corner. This is a very busy street too. I always found that odd. Most homeless kind of bunch together, and mostly out of the way, out of sight.
Giving it some thought, I figured she lived there because it was close to the bus route. She has two shopping carts that she pushes around. I got to see them up close when I tracked her down and approached her. More on that later.
Ideas started running through my head of the documentary I wanted to shoot on her. I'd already had a list of questions I'd ask. A co-worker was going to compose some music to go with it as well. My roommate even had a great shotgun mic he would lend me. Everything was set.
I work during the day as an art director, but after work I work on my own projects, and long story short I'd come into a decent chunk of money. Fast-forward some more, I paid a few grand for a Panasonic DVX100b. I chose it because it could shoot 24p, which the XL1s could not. In layman terms, 24p is the rate film is shot, giving you a more cinematic quality to the footage as opposed to video. Progressive scan instead of interlaced.
All the gear was there. All the planning was there. Now I just had to meet her.
Today after work, I threw the videocamera in my camera bag, took out my bike and headed to go find her. I bumped into my neighbor and we got to talking about homeless people and she knew exactly who I was talking about.
I shot towards the homeless lady's place of residence, but she wasn't on the corner. So I started pedaling down Van Nuys, into little Mexico, hoping I might find her. I pedaled for like 20 minutes. Against the wind. Then I saw her!
Black lady. In her thirties. Dressed all in black. I've never seen her dressed in any other clothes, so I assume she wears the same black t-shirt and black jeans. Or that she is a ninja.
I rode right past her on the first pass. Part in fact that I get really shy around women, and partly because a police cruiser was waiting at the light and I didn't want it to seem like I was picking up a hobo prostitute. I let her tug her shopping carts full of recyclables (I assume that's how she makes her monies) a couple blocks, then I circled back around, hopped off my bike, and started walking beside her.
"Hi."
"Not interested".
"Hi...I was just wondering..."
"Not interested".
"Hi, I'm a documentary filmmaker, would you please hear m.."
"No. Not interested. final".
My heart sank. All the planning, all the festival hopes, gone. Most of my own selfishness to blame. The other part you could probably chalk up to naivety. As Oscar the Grouch said famously, "*****, I live in a poo pooin' trashcan!" I'm the poorest motherpoo pooer on Sesame Street! Nobody's helpin' me."
She was unique. She had a quiet sense of dignity. She also had a childhood, and a story of circumstances that led her to where she is today. But I wasn't going to be the one telling her story. In hindsight, I should have maybe asked her out to dinner first. I don't know. I was naive to think with two weeks I could tell this woman's life story; that she'd be willing to expose herself like that. As if it wasn't bad enough already just trying to get by day after day. Another lesson in humility.
and was without a videocamera for a while. I'd shot a wedding, some wildlife footage, and some shorts that I never bothered to show anyone.
Then I learned about the IFP sponsoring a competition for non-fiction user created content. I wanted to win that shi* badly. And I had the perfect story too.
On the corner of Van Nuys Blvd. & Burbank Blvd. is a car dealership., And on the corner, there's a weird inset, like a column was carved out. Well I drive by there all the time, and I noticed that a homeless woman had set up shop there. She literally lives out of a tent in that little corner. This is a very busy street too. I always found that odd. Most homeless kind of bunch together, and mostly out of the way, out of sight.
Giving it some thought, I figured she lived there because it was close to the bus route. She has two shopping carts that she pushes around. I got to see them up close when I tracked her down and approached her. More on that later.
Ideas started running through my head of the documentary I wanted to shoot on her. I'd already had a list of questions I'd ask. A co-worker was going to compose some music to go with it as well. My roommate even had a great shotgun mic he would lend me. Everything was set.
I work during the day as an art director, but after work I work on my own projects, and long story short I'd come into a decent chunk of money. Fast-forward some more, I paid a few grand for a Panasonic DVX100b. I chose it because it could shoot 24p, which the XL1s could not. In layman terms, 24p is the rate film is shot, giving you a more cinematic quality to the footage as opposed to video. Progressive scan instead of interlaced.
All the gear was there. All the planning was there. Now I just had to meet her.
Today after work, I threw the videocamera in my camera bag, took out my bike and headed to go find her. I bumped into my neighbor and we got to talking about homeless people and she knew exactly who I was talking about.
I shot towards the homeless lady's place of residence, but she wasn't on the corner. So I started pedaling down Van Nuys, into little Mexico, hoping I might find her. I pedaled for like 20 minutes. Against the wind. Then I saw her!
Black lady. In her thirties. Dressed all in black. I've never seen her dressed in any other clothes, so I assume she wears the same black t-shirt and black jeans. Or that she is a ninja.
I rode right past her on the first pass. Part in fact that I get really shy around women, and partly because a police cruiser was waiting at the light and I didn't want it to seem like I was picking up a hobo prostitute. I let her tug her shopping carts full of recyclables (I assume that's how she makes her monies) a couple blocks, then I circled back around, hopped off my bike, and started walking beside her.
"Hi."
"Not interested".
"Hi...I was just wondering..."
"Not interested".
"Hi, I'm a documentary filmmaker, would you please hear m.."
"No. Not interested. final".
My heart sank. All the planning, all the festival hopes, gone. Most of my own selfishness to blame. The other part you could probably chalk up to naivety. As Oscar the Grouch said famously, "*****, I live in a poo pooin' trashcan!" I'm the poorest motherpoo pooer on Sesame Street! Nobody's helpin' me."
She was unique. She had a quiet sense of dignity. She also had a childhood, and a story of circumstances that led her to where she is today. But I wasn't going to be the one telling her story. In hindsight, I should have maybe asked her out to dinner first. I don't know. I was naive to think with two weeks I could tell this woman's life story; that she'd be willing to expose herself like that. As if it wasn't bad enough already just trying to get by day after day. Another lesson in humility.
