We're three people making movies. This page is not about that, but if you like it you'll like us.
Its Trisha Ya'll and you better be ready. Bam! Who is Trisha? What! You don't ask, you get told. She brings the heat and damn its hot. Trisha gets things done. Hell Yeah. Get back! It's Trisha punk. She came from the mean streets of Lawrence and guess what? She blew that town clear off the map! Step. I don't think so. She tells DNA what to do! Science! Regulates it. No Hesitat'in. She's down to do the movies that are mad interesting. FRESH.
Trisha likes warm, sweet, and screaming. Trisha dislikes onions and sponges.
What would Trisha do?
Someones missing you? Punch a chump in the face.
Someone dissing you?
Someone wants to start something?
ring ring. its the fire department, your house is on fire.
Someone got love for you?
Give it back. One love. One world. Nice.
Somewhere in the ground, somewhere in Tennessee ions screamed as they hurdled down the super collider. Hundreds of times they went around. Miles in seconds. Time was nothing. Unaware of the nomadic hippies living above. Then...by chance...a meeting. Creativity and artistry slammed into each other. White light. Brilliance. Brilliance. Brilliance. The commune, frozen in time, disappeared and melted into the light. Tie-died Brilliance. Then, screaming silence.
Barnaby stood in the emptiness of the massive tunnel. Freshly formed. Darkness all around him, and he destroyed it. Nothing existed without his permission. He was one with it all, but more than it at the same time. In his mind he was vaguely aware of the free loving people he was created from. His legs felt quick enough to hackey sack. His shoulders strong enough to build a tee-pee. His mind broad enough to accept love in all its forms.
Barnaby was created in this way; to create, to carry things, to lay cables and endure it all with alarming grace. He has fulfilled this purpose in movie making.
Stats : Dropped equipment 245.43 lbs
Brainstorming record: 14-17-3
As we watched the sunset over the Oregon coastline that evening. I turned and asked Charlie, "How do you create such terrific work?"
Charlie chuckled to himself as he banked our hang glider toward the sea. "It's not creation. It's the revelation of life and vision."
As the Wisdom of his words settled over me the whole of the ocean seemed to stretch unceasingly onward, racing forward, propelled into wonder from his words. He is that which is not named or spoken. Charlie does not create out of pride or but out of a sense of responsibility to the universe. As these thoughts settle into my mind, Charlie's voice snapped my attention back to our twin journey. "Turn your body slowly left," he whispered.
Our gliding meditation turned eastward, and with a quick glance back at eternity, we came safely to the ground.
Charlie enjoys candy, martial arts, and the esoteric. Charlie dislikes small buttons.
Some quotes from Charlie:
"You're ruining my life" said to a computer.
"Why would you do this to me?!" said to Allergies.
"Is it a spray on?" Said to a girl.