Eric SamulskiNothing for money
July 30th 2007 06:47
Tell me a story
To supplement my artistic income I work in a car wrecking yard.
Wait a minute… if I calculate my before-tax income from art that would be…nil. After-tax income…nil.
In the yard there are lots of car wrecks and auto bits stacked everywhere. At times I look over the place and if I tilt my head slightly and close one eye it looks a bit like a graveyard only everything is above the ground.
Sort of Tim Burton.
We also fix and restore cars.
Which is great – there’s little that’s more pleasing than bringing an old car back to life.
We got a car in the other day – it’s a late model convertible that had a roll-over. The passenger died in the accident and the driver is in jail. I call it the death car. I don’t like being near it and there’s this sort of hushed silence around it and I can imagine all the flashing lights and chaos when they were trying to rescue and cut the metal etc. I guess my point is, that car and all the others are like story capsules. Little vignettes of life – just like films. Only watching a movie is easier because you don’t have to use your imagination to dig up the narrative. Unless a cry-baby directed it. And they tell me imagination and apposing thumbs are what distinguish us from those hairy little monkeys – the ones at the zoo that taunt the pensioners.
Anyway, my good mate Ralph “The Smile” is always saying to me that’s why he hates porn – because it kills imagination.
I see his point.
I guess I’m lucky cos I can sit and look at all the old cars and imagine the stories they tell.
Like that rusty beat-up old ute with the bullet holes…
Until next time and happy film-making.
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