Donn Weber

It has been so very long since posting... did a thing! 48 Hour Film Fest Project last weekend! Stuck At Home Challenge, titled (as you can probably tell :I) The Hitchhiker’s Guide for a Dream, a trailer mashup challenge of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy & Requiem for a Dream.

Stephen Hillenburg was a creator, an innovator, an animator, and a marine biologist. As I found myself re-entering the dream world of writing, directing, and producing animations and films, I looked for an example of someone past their college years attempting the run at such an excursion. Hillenburg, was in every way, exactly that!

What is symbolic, Is it melancholic? Or is it substantial? Which is really circumstantial.

Maybe I’m overthinking, watching my mind sinking, as if so numbing in who I’m becoming.

It’s definitely falling, like pedals snowballing. Because of this world’s cold or maybe its to behold.

Do pedals exude snow? I thought I should know. Maybe they gingerly slip. Waiting return to fellowship.

Watch me lie here, Wondering if I die here. Wishing this world was clear. Wishing these goals were near.

If God’s calling, I can’t hear. Leaning back in fear. Feeling like a motionless deer. Will someone just help me steer?

Someone watch front and rear. No one is bringing their cheer. It is only me there is no we’re. My eyes wince and discretely tear.

Softly in the distance I leer. Alone on the ground, that’s sincere. No map, compass, or gear. No sense of direction, I peer.

Tiny souls

You and I.

In endless shadows

We do or die.

The sun peers out

We wonder why.

Light over world

We fight the high.

Such long introversion

Time that we fly.

Reluctance ends accord

We release final sigh.

The sun glistens over,

My first short film. Inspired off a poem that I had written back in 2007, I spent a solid December-January of ‘08 banging out a 2:50 minute stop motion for this tale. One year later while doing some editing and research on lesser known film festivals, my apartment was broken into and all copies of this work taken with it.

Softly spoken, Nothing but a dream. My undivided attention. My mind gazes at the seam

of time and trials, of all things true. When I am lost in these shadows, it helps to think of you.

I continue my day, over driven, over pride. Slowly falling, lost again, I take to leisurely ride

where my mind always wanders, things seem so misplaced, yet the refreshing thoughts of your eyes make me placed.

Those quiet whispers, that glistening glare. When the sun’s in my eyes and all you do is stare.

Such Big Skies, for such a Little World. We spend forever gazing, at such crisis below. Walking without our eyes, the hair on our backs curled. Like sheep we may be grazing, acting like we know.

The sky glistens, stars remain true, endlessly our minds wander, who are you? Nothing more than faint thoughts that we think, never knowing the answers yet on the brink. But in time those thoughts travel yonder. Only on rare occasions do we ponder. Those now nostalgic memories from what we once thought. Stemming from dreams who we were but are not. Those thoughts race away, and our eyes walk elsewhere. You go yours, me mine, yet neither of us care.

Endless wander, you treat me so true; Through highlights of sunset and melancholy blues.

The curious things, the curious why. No explanations, but I cannot deny

that these creative endeavors, these things that I do, make me feel wonders, they make me feel true.

The writing and drawing, painting and portrait. It lets me move past, my stagnate corporate.