from tracks of mud

I still haven't written about the experience of filming 'Five' I know but maybe in the meanwhile I can just put these pictures up... Going down the trail, at first it doesn't look too bad. but things quickly turn to mud. Sometimes there was no where to step, unless you like mud. Mike, the art director, is contemplating his accomplishment at having circumnavigated this pool of it. It had stormed pretty badly a few weeks before and as a result there were sometimes downed trees. This one was especially uncomfortable to get around. We arrive at the hut. This thing is amazing. It's out in the middle of nowhere and was built by the Auckland University's Tramping (hiking) club. I was told they flew in the building materials by helicopter. Actually that is just what I guessed but take it as fact for now cause I can't see how else they got the materials in. Looking inside you would think this a normal place almost, except for the lack of electricity of course. Lance, my comrade in camera purges the place of all the rodent poo. There were alot of rats and large mice in this place and at times they got pretty brave. We had to leave candles burning all night to keep them from scurrying all over our sleeping bodies. One modcon is that the place had a wood stove to keep us somewhat warm at night ans provide some light. There was also a sink with running water that came from a rain collecting tank. Luckily it rains a lot in around Auckland so there was plenty of water for washing and that kind of stuff (though not for drinking). The woods looked like this:

- gone to forest -

Things are busy. I've been doing camera (one of them) on a project called 'five' during the weekends. We are hiking out in the forest and sleeping with rats. More to come on this later...

more strange poetry from the notebook of utah

Sinking, dreaming, feeling lower and stiller than sleeping, sounding warning, - in quiet still, untying... The work that draws me doesn't know me and collecting years of minutes, like atrophy - a trophy of triumph in trying me out, wearing souls out. Patchwork vapors of normalcy, conformity - well bought, sold cheaply, sold simply, for money... This one was about a girl that worked the cash register at this store I went to everyday.