Last days on The Fitzroy, for now.

200 tins of beans "for the church" - yes I'm going to hell

More beans - post rusting

Door handles and yet more beans - post rusting.

 Soo the last few days have been a little hectic and I haven’t had much time to do anything except sleep (no excuse I know you can sleep when you’re dead and all that) but here is the final blog of my adventures on my first independent film set.

Mainly it was more of the same, a little driving around London picking things up and some occasional painting of bean tins and 100 meters of foam tubing needed to be painted black for the odds and ends around the submarine set. Boring you might think but it’s amazing to really start seeing the project coming together and seeing a side of filmmaking that I never have before.

50 meters of white foam painted back - there was another 50 after that!

One of the greatest things that I’ve taken from the experience is that there are so many other driven people out there, who also have a huge amount of talent that are going through exactly the same thing as me right now! It’d given me hope that I am doing the right things and that being involved in stuff like this is great as it widens the net of contacts that you have. For example on this set one of the production designers was looking for a stop motion animation script to film. I pitched her my short The Little Sunflower which she loved and we’re now thinking of working on it together!

In other The Fitzroy related news I’m really excited to be being involved with the actual filming on the submarine in the next few weeks (look out for the blog) and I got to write a poem that one of the characters might read aloud during the finished film, check it out here:

An Ode to Life - For Mrs Elis

An Ode to Life

For Mrs Elis From The Fitzroy

What is this life a-float a glimmering sphere?

To turn alone amongst the grey and gloom

it is all it must appear.

That we are slowly drifting towards our doom.

Raise a glass to life itself

before it is you go to bed.

Toast a virtue to your good health

because it may be tomorrow that you are dead.

Now you may take me a bumbling fool:

“This old woman doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

But I won’t find your jibes so cruel.For it won’t be me at the bottom of the sea there laying.

The "Stunt Chicken" prepares.

The set as I left it on day 8.