Thursday, May 24, 2007

An Original Screenplay by: Finn


FADE UP

Time smears the sky a rustic blue. The stubborn sun losing her battle to a stealthy moon. The whispers of night grow stronger as the day hibernates beyond a bucolic horizon.

TITLE CARD: CENTRAL ITALY

Exhaustion permeates. FINN (late 20s) finishes his fifth day crossing through the rugged Apennines Mountains. A nomad persisting over foreign land with his kagu bird, Mercury, roaming aside. The words of a craftsman echo deeply in his mind.

FLASH BACK:

EXT. SOHO, NEW YORK - 5 MONTHS AGO - NIGHT

Awkward quietude. Winter’s frost deadens a city normally full of life and bustling activity. Vacant cabs dart through the cobblestone streets looking for customers vacated by arctic temperatures.

INT. SHOP - NIGHT

Rolls of fabric cluttered over vintage equipment from an era many years passed. A tattered TAILOR (late 70s) sits at an ancient Singer sewing
machine wrestling with pieces of denim.

Finn stands nearby, spectating admirably as the tailor’s swollen hands swing the blue fabric around a bobbing needle. Eight hours have passed. An artful exhibition of calloused hands working the machine like the gentle fingers of a concert pianist taming the ivory keys.

The gears cry. Orange thread impeccably creating seams of precision.

TAILOR
(heavy accent)
When you leave Nice, sail the
Mediterranean east to my country.

FINN
Italy?

-------------------------------------------------------------------

2
TAILOR
Yes. There’s a village called Scanno.
A place where the moon heals.

The old man slides back from the machine. He searches through a nearby box until he removes a copper button and its matching nail. He grips a mallet. One powerful swing ends to an explosive thud. The button fastens to a finished waistband.

TAILOR (cont’d)
(handing the jeans to Finn)
Wear these. I make them from
Japanese textile. They will mold
with you...take your shape. The
rigid fabric will give way and
some day tell your story.

FINN
(reaching into his pocket)
How much?

TAILOR
(waves him off)
Ha...

FINN
I must pay you.

TAILOR
When you come back to this city
bring me the jeans. I want to
study them...read them.

The old man limps over to his desk. A hunchback and bum leg casualties of countless hours at the merciless Singer.

The tired man places his hands on the desk, then lowers his forehead.

FINN
Scanno, Italy?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3

TAILOR
(without looking)
Yes. Where the moon heals.

BACK TO:

EXT. LAKE SCANNO - NIGHT

Sleeping water reflecting a watchful moon. Finn removes his custom jeans. He dips them completely into the lake several times before turning towards the hillside.

EXT. TREE - CONTINUOUS

Finn attaches the jeans to the stub of a broken branch. He falls back to the trunk of the tree -- his weary eyes gazing at the pants suspended in the mystery of lunar care.

The old man was right. The moon’s shining rays revealing where the Japanese denim has begun to crease and lighten in a way that records Finn’s journey.

It is a soulful moment of discovery. A tree. Mercury. The moon. A pair of jeans.

FINN
(exhaling)
Freedom.

...to be continued...

Monday, May 14, 2007

5/14/07

spring blossoms effortlessly in a city that works so hard to stay busy. new york. chilled nights only giving way to a warming sun that teases us with the possibilities of a burning summer. thoughts run to distant crevices of the universe like stockholm, nice, hamburg. wondering what it's like there right now. wondering if the atmosphere there awakens them to the blossoms of life's endless cycle. shall we be reminded. winter's frozen tentacles have been detached and warmed to liquid nothingness. now we can shed layers and explore more freely.

freedom is natural nirvana...