Experience. It counts.

I know, I usually don't talk about work, and when I do, it's mostly complaining.

And that's why it is imperative that this blog is unsearchable when you key in my name in the vast world wide web. (Ding!)

But here's just a reflection piece about editing that, after 4 years and 9 months, that I am just beginning to grasp. What was interesting is, that it took another fresh face to make me see how far I've gone, and at the same time, how much more I need to learn.

So the story was, I had to take care of a new editor who had been doing mostly corporate jobs. It was a struggle, to see him not struggling. Hmmm... what do I mean by that?

Well, during the brief, I'd already have ideas of how the completed edit might look like, being familiar with the archival programmes already. That's what experience does to you. It was supposed to be a "reference" moodboard, where he had to put in scenes that showed the theme that we wanted. Eg, Family Love, so you're supposed to craft a sub-story from the main story with just scenes from family love. Does it sound easy? Because again, experience tells me it ain't. It is one of the hardest, trickiest thing to do. When the actual story could be about something else entirely and you had to make it look like it's about family love. That's really hard.

 Two hours later, when I was shown the cut done by the editor, I saw that clearly, the person has missed out on parts that he could have exploited in the cut. And that it was jarring, from moment to moment. That music piece too, was out of place. That was a very "eureka" moment, that somehow, over the past years, after having sat with my bosses for countless edits, that now I know where they were coming from. The edit. Just. Doesn't. Work.

I found it was pretty hard to let the news down to someone and tell him that, hey man, this isn't very good. I tried to ask some questions, like, "What do you think?", "What were you thinking when you put this part in", "Do you think it helped in the story?". And even harder, when the person's reply is "Yes, I think it's good because...." and you're thinking in your head, "Nooooooo, did you even hear what that Voiceover says? Why did you put this image for that VO? Siao ar?"

Flashback. I had been in that hotseat before, but usually I don't justify myself and instead, work on my bosses' notes with deep anger that only my boyfriend will know through my angry smses of "Three pages of notes!!! Wah laooooo eh." But once all that three pages of notes was done, and it was hard to admit, those torturous notes really made the edit better.

Present day. Had to sit in with my boss, and go step-by-step, shot by shot with the new editor. And it was finally done. You'd think after that, one can pick up and understand what we meant, right? Then came the next brief, and about four hours later.....

Insert cricket sounds. Insert similar scenario where he insists the edit has captured what the brief wants. Insert boss walking out in frustration and tense-filled edit room. Yikes.

In the end, because that assignment was urgent, I spent the evening in the office cutting the edit from scratch, with some help (more like hints) from the editor because he has told me about some scene dialogue, although he didn't find that they were useful, and I tracked them down and used them fully. Really also, because I have been doing these kind of reels for four years, I understood what was required.

So, experience. It counts.

And this darn experience, with all that late nights and crazy rushing, AND pages upon pages of notes, it's not easy to get. Not at all.

With all the people around me quitting their jobs and going for new ones, I'm currently one of those who has stayed really long at a job at 4 years and 9 months in this 21st century. I definitely have had urges to quit (so many), and the toughness of the job takes a toll at times, but it is these moments, these moments where I can see that hey, oh my, I'm an editor.

So, experience. It ain't easy to get, but it counts.

Playing With Colours

Learning how to do more in Photoshop :)

For Keeps

Breathe in. Breathe out.

There's so much to be done now

Look out, around 

Risks of a fallout

And we'll just keep dancing now 

To the rhythm of this life

To whatever it gives 

Anything nasty, anything nice

Let the sense of this flow overwhelm

Give a glimpse of the things that is to come 

And smell, through the cracks,

The real things that matter

Hold on, hold on,

They'll be the only things that will settle

When the dust falls

Remember what's important

The people that exist, the memories we keep

The rest of the green, don't take it as priorities,

By the time we want it back

It'll be nothing but a nasty crack

On shoot.

I haven't been on set for many, many months.

Today I dusted the cobwebs, and went on my first shoot, just as a runner and the data wrangler, for a simple corporate shoot. We went to quite a few places, which reminded me to be thankful for the years of studio shoots we had, did the menial-est stuff like crowd control with the blistering sun overhead, and had the most dangerous task, which is to find a secluded PowerPoint in the mall to copy and transfer footages. Which I found, in between the gents and ladies. Many times I would think I'm going to get busted by security, but the sound of hurried footsteps actually belonged to bladder-bursting customers/ workers. 

At the end of the day, I am exhausted. And dehydrated too. But wow, there is this fun of being on set that I had forgotten for a while. Seeing the DOP create the magic (although it was us who had to painstakingly do up the backdrop for one of the locations) and just watching a fluid, beautiful frame on the monitor, that's just pure joy and awe. And of course the footage had better be good, I'll be the one editing it back in the office.

Somehow, even though this job's tough like crazy, I don't know why, but there's still that magic.

Constant Communion

I ran.

I panted, my knees weren't lifting high enough. The destination was still far, and my legs were about to give way. The voice in my earphones started speaking, "Fifteen minutes, two kilometres." In the back of my mind was the thought, oh my, how the mighty has fallen. Fifteen minutes for a measly two kilometres? Just eight years ago, I did 2.4 kilometres in 12 minutes.

Well, maybe eight years is really that far away.

And as I continued, I wanted to stop very badly. That's the time where my focus starting going berserk, just darting between things that I never noticed before. My whole body, and how heavy it weighed. The phone in my hand, how it was suddenly a hindrance, and my earphones cables tugging my ears the wrong way. Everything was resistance.

But there's something so strangely exciting about this premise. Pounding heart, air gushing in and out my nose, muscles working in unison, and as I looked straight ahead, there was a voice that came. The voice was inside my head of course.

"Keep looking at me, keep going, don't give up, don't stop. Keep constant communion. Keep your focus. Constant communion with me. Constant communion."

Yes, okay... God, are you here?

"You see this road, it's tough right, nobody's around with you, and every step is harder, but if you stop, you're not getting nearer to the destination. And isn't it what you're facing, the rejections, the resistance from some of the people?"

Exactly what I had discussed this afternoon during my core group meeting with Sharlene and Angela.

"It's hard right? Giving up, it's so much easier isn't it?"

Yes, yes it is, when things look bleak. When there seems to be so much to be done, Lord.

"But you see, these are my people."

 Yes, Lord, these are your people.

"Don't let go of them. I will give you strength. I. Will. Give. You. Strength."

At this point, I was running towards a traffic light.

"Okay Lord. Constant communion, right?"

And I was nearly at the light, which was red. Just a few steps from the light, it turned green, and I picked up speed to run across the light. By now, I was feeling hungry. I hadn't eaten any dinner before I went out to run because I had a heavy lunch.

"Use My strength when you don't have any left."

Okay, Lord. I ran a little faster.

"Don't give up, keep your eyes on Me."

I was still tired, panting, hungry, but I kept running.

At the last kilometre, the fuel was running on empty. I was jogging behind a pedestrian who was taking his own sweet time. The voice in the earphones started again. "25 minutes,  pace 8.1 kilometres per hour." I had dwindled from 8.6 kilometres per hour to 8.1. 8.1!!!!

Oh my, how the mighty has fallen.

And as I looked ahead, finally separated from the pedestrian who could give a sloth a run for its money, it was a straight jogging path along the canal. And right at the end of the path, was the end point.

If I run faster, I can improve my timing, that's the thought going through my mind.

Why is it getting harder to run faster? But I am running faster, even though it's harder. Faster, faster.

Oh right, use His strength!

I looked right ahead, and I ran. I ran. I panted. I ran. I made each step wider. It was starting to be a sprint.

"Use My strength."

Okay. I'm using, I'm using. Nearly there, nearly there.

And just around 15 steps from the end goal, my sprint transformed into, well, a fast jog. Then a slow jog. Then, I touched the barrier and reached the end line.

I have reached my destination. I hadn't stopped at all. And even though the timing was, well, a disgrace actually, haha, but it was a sobering "what-do-you-expect-you-haven't-had-any-exercise-in-the-past-two-weeks!" reminder that I wouldn't have been able to make it, if not for that voice.

To make matters worse, I went to a bench and my stomach cramped up after 30 sit ups.

30!!!

Finally, I sat and rested. The passage on my bible app was on 2 Cor 11:22 to 30.

22 Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they the seed of Abraham? So am I. 23 Are they ministers of Christ?—I speak as a fool—I am more: in labors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequently, in deaths often. 24 From the Jews five times I received forty stripes minus one. 25 Three times I was beaten with rods; once I was stoned; three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been in the deep; 26 in journeys often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of my own countrymen, in perils of the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; 27 in weariness and toil, in sleeplessness often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness—28 besides the other things, what comes upon me daily: my deep concern for all the churches. 29 Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burnwith indignation?

30 If I must boast, I will boast in the things which concern my infirmity. 31 The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is blessed forever, knows that I am not lying. 


How do I even dare to give up when Paul has been through all of the above? The point though is, that a constant communion, or a continual fellowship with Christ will just lead us to be better than our circumstances.

Look at Paul. Look at myself. WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES?

The Posture of Worship

Is worship a posture? Is it singing songs every Sunday? Is it a religious activity that we set aside time for every week, mostly on Sundays?

I believe it is all of the above and of course, more.

This life, is worship.

And I humbly pray, for the capacity to fulfil what it means to do that.

Tiger.

This one is a bit weirder. I think I didn't grasp the dimensions and shape properly.

Oh well, was still a good and fun "alone with my own thoughts and hello God" time.