20 August 2008

Our first documentary

I spent today working on updates for the Tryst Press web page; those of you on our mailing list will soon receive your official heads-up. One of the fun things I'll be posting about on the Tryst Press blog is a five-minute film we made about the papermaking workshop that took place at our studio in the spring. After three unsuccessful attempts throughout the day to get the thing to upload, I finally had success and got most of the first-timer editing problems resolved before the stroke of midnight. I was really worried I might turn into a pumpkin—specifically, one of those really scary jack-o-lanterns with the nasty nasty teeth—if my fourth attempt didn't work. No sweet Cinderella stuff for me after wrassling with iMovie all day [razzbazz mutter mutter]. It was a close call.

But. Our documentar-ette is up and running, and I'd like to invite you to go and have a look, 'cause I know you're nice like that. I was going to just upload it here, but if you go to YouTube to see it, you'll have the option to watch in high quality, and believe me, it makes a difference. Plus, maybe you can leave some feedback there. 'Cause I know you're nice like that.

So without further ado, nice people, give it on up for TRYST PRESS' DOCUMENTARY DEBUT!

(Baby steps. Baby steps.)

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love this thing that you do. I know the paper making is only a part of it, but I've always wanted to see it and now I have.

And you reminded me that I made paper once. Not nearly so lovely or fine, but I did and I'd forgotten.

Cool!

Amy said...

Yay!! Very cool. I thought "muscles" was a nice touch. :)

Geo said...

CW, maybe you should come and make paper with us one day when we've got the juices flowing, just to see if you still enjoy it. (I suspect you will. 'Cause you're creative like that.)

AMY, thanks! That caption that made me smile too.

Anonymous said...

I would love to!

Geo said...

Let's make a plan.

Debra said...

Really, really cool to see your hubby in action. I seem to remember an assembly line of machinery off to the side of the house we used to share. I treasure the yarrow paper he once gave me. I still have it and sometimes I take it out and just run my hand across it. Can't quite use it yet. Too pretty.