Love is whatever you see that's beautiful

[Maybe three people, tops, are going to get that title. For the rest of you, just know that it's a Rocker Box Gasket reference, and not meant seriously.]

My composer has come through with the awesome. It's still not right, but it's close to right, and I'm excited. It's also sounding pretty Vangelis if they were composing for David Lynch. Which I guess is what happens when you tell someone "write Sigur Ros as orchestrated (ruthlessly) by John Cage." NOW WE KNOW.

I'm pretty much done with my titles, which is a relief. They're not elaborate, or anything - I just stress out about them because I care way too much about fonts and alignments. I say care too much not because I think it is too much to care, but because it is too much at my skill level and timeframe.

So film stuff is going well. On the other hand, I may not have a place to live at the end of the week, due to ISH booking practices. They're looking for a spot to put me, but I might just be homeless for three weeks and annoying my friends by sleeping on their couches. You win some, you lose some.

I had an awesome weekend; Birgitta scored free press passes to see a pre-UK release showing of Die Hard 4.0, which was a lot of fun. This was my first visit to the Leister Square Odeon, the largest cinema in the UK, and by far the largest cinema I've ever been inside. It's the size of a symphony hall, and the seats are leopard-upholstered.

Saturday, I did some foley and then went on a Londonist tour of Vauxhall with treehavn and company. I now know all kinds of trivia and ghost stories; you have been warned. Following that, there was a lot of drinking and then Vietnamese soup, which go together like drinking and Vietnamese soup.

Sunday was West End Live - outdoor performances by the casts of various musicals, and by surrealist Japanese pop group Frank Chickens. There were also cybermen walking around. Afterward, I caught a few films at BFI Southbank (my current home away from home): The Killing of a Chinese Bookie and If.....

Kick ass.

Strange Intimacy

I'm used to hearing my own recorded voice; senior year of high school, I was the interviewer for the video yearbook, and when I wasn't at school I was being recorded by my cousin/roommate Scarlett, who videotaped me whenever she was bored (which was most of the time). I've always been the voice on my answering machine message, whether I was living with Raine, Val, or Patrick, and when I talk on Skype I frequently hear my own response echoed back to me after a lag. Any "oh my god, do I really sound like that?" died out a long time ago, along with any surprise that my voice is higher pitched and more nasal than it seems inside my head. When I listen to recorded me, it just sounds like me.

Despite that, it was weird tracklaying my voiceover today. I recorded it mono to save space, which means it's currently left-channel only; I'll move it to the center next week during the dub. [Dubbing in this context does not mean re-recording dialogue; it means balancing the sound during a re-recording mix session.] Since I only hear the sound through my left headphone, it seems like I'm standing behind my left shoulder, whispering in my ear.