Back in the olden days, my ex-wife and her family and I tagged along on a film safari at Pyramid Lake, in Nevada. Hot water, cliffs, rock formations (pyramidal), and desolation on an “Indian” (Pauite) reservation. Maybe the film safari tagged along with us. I honestly don’t remember.
My then-bro-in – law was/is a fantastic idea RISD/ Milan guy, industrial designer. Think, “Beautiful Life” with snowboards, Japanese board games made from salmon-colored Portland cement, Christmas package string-wrappings as to be a gift in and of themselves. Fucker was talented, as were my X and her parental units. We were all having fun.
Anyway, the point of the safari was to shoot film and process it by day, then watch the film that night, tickety-tickety-tickety, onscreen, under the Nevada stars.
Love-boat and I spent the day paddling around the geo-thermally bubbling Pyramid. I had the best job in the world, and I wonder sometimes, atheistically, why God assigns us these enormously pleasing tasks.
What did I do to deserve ‘this? That’s mostly the point, here: you didn’t do anything. It just wuz. So much is out of one’s control, let’s not talk about it, any further.
Tents were set-up, both for people and film. There were barrels of chemicals (transported out afterwards), although, the developing tent was white!. How did they develop film in a white tent in broad daylight? What happened there? My father-in-law was super-talented at stills, no one would deny his Hasselblad, but his darkroom was blind-dark. I remain foggy on such issues.
Food was eaten. Drinks were drunk. Completely a-narrative, yes, even scratchy, landscape films, cliffs, weeds, and dappling waters, were watched, under black starry skies. It was a hit.
And the Oscar goes to…