Corinna Headlining the Blue Room

Corinna headlined the Blue Room's Jazz Poetry event last Tuesday. I'm going on a week behind blogging this, among other things. I guess I've been pulling a Sam.*





Anyway, I took my new toy to the gig along with Corinna's camera and tripod, and even with a house videographer on hand, I couldn't help trying to video everything. Except the audience, which I should have taken a shot at (photographically, that is).



It was weird, my 8GB card barely held Corinna's performance, where her camera, almost identical to mine, took in everything and more at the same supposed resolution. Different file formats, I guess.



Anyway, she worked her fool ass off for this gig, and hanging out with her this weekend is only a partial explanation for the lag in posting this stuff. I couldn't just post the raw video, I had to do some editing, make credit frames (which meant torturing myself about which art really fit her poetry), etc.



And as I write, I'm exporting just the first poem of what I recorded...









By the way, for those of you seeing this blog post as a 'note' on Facebook, there are tons of embedded videos you probably don't see here, you should click on 'original post' and scope it out.







Besides videoing my girlfriend, who was the star attraction, I tried to get as much of the other acts as possible on video, and when my SD card filled up, I started nuking things I'd already downloaded to make room.









The worst poet to try and get still shots of was Sara Glass, aka Miss Conception. I tried to anticipate when she'd come to rest and by the time the shutter triggered, it seemed she was in motion again.



By the way, you should at least check out Sara's 'Mac Track,' which I think is the best commercial for the Golden Arches I've encountered since Super Size Me.

*When I was fresh out of high school, my first full time while I was going to JCCC was in a gas station, the graveyard shift. The manager I had for awhile, Sam, was a brash, alcoholic diesel dyke who would often show up late, shrugging it off by saying, 'You know how it is when you're in love.' She was working for a flat salary of $12,000 a year even when she had to pull double shifts to cover cashiers who were really, really in love—so in love they couldn't even be bothered with calling in sick.