So, perhaps I should be belting out, “Leaving on that morning flight to Alabama.” Catchy? No, I think I’ll stick to the original, as my edits, though factual, aren’t particularly sonorous.

Melodious fiction clobbers dissonant truth.

Though I wonder if the two states might consider swapping names. It would only be for a short while, say eight to twelve months. Governors?

Apparently the Maine Arts Commission has decided that goodfocus (3rd person self-reference) has, in fact, had a good idea. We thought we’d had a few recently, but apparently it’s really just the one. That one being our currently-in-production documentary ‘Designing Change.’ They have sent word regarding the goodness of the idea for this film in the form of their ‘Good Idea Grant.’

Aside from making us feel happy, warm, cozy and perhaps even smug, the wonderful aspect of this grant is that it is intended to be used to buy nifty gizmos to help one make their idea a reality. In our case, this means a small bevvy of filmmaking tools that we’ve been eyeing for some time.

To wit, we’d like to share this list with you so that you, too, may oggle the beauty and niftiness of each of these gizmos.

First, two 16GB SanDisk Extreme CompactFlash Cards for our new Canon 7D (video) camera. SanDisk is fond of saying that their cards feature a RTV silicone coating for added protection against moisture and humidity (perfect for mid-western Alabama). They are also tested to perform in extreme cold to hot environments (-13° to 185°F / -25°C to 85°C), such as are found nowhere we hope to be in the near future. The Extreme cards are subject to rigorous stress, shock, and vibration testing, which is very handy when rattling at great speed down the crevasse-laden byways of Alabama in our 1981 Volkswagen dasher (anything but) that we politely call sh*tbox.

Next, the very nifty Novoflex lens mount adapter for Nikon lens to Canon EOS bodies. Novoflex is keen to point out that although the lens will fit physically, automatic diaphragm (AE metering), or any other functions are not retained using this adapter. Unfortunately, this means that our Nikon lens with handy espresso-making function will not play on our Canon body. But our growing collection of Nikon primes will.

Possibly our favorite addition to the gear bag is another Sennheiser Evolution G2 100 Series UHF lavalier System. We’re getting this set in the new extreme lavender color scheme.

And to round out the gadgetry, a beautiful, midnight grey Zoom H4n Handy mobile 4-track recorder. The fact that it is both handy and mobile was what landed our interest. It’s so often that something is handy, but weighs ten stone, or is mobile, but never where it needs to be when it’s needed. This baby has both, in spades.

Thank you, Maine Arts Commission.

aspen |ˈaspən|
noun
a poplar tree with rounded, long-stalked, and typically coarsely-toothed leaves that tremble in even a slight breeze. • Genus Populus, family Salicaceae: several species, in particular the North American quaking aspen ( P. tremuloides) and bigtooth aspen ( P. grandidentata) and the European P. tremula.

No, in fact, that wasn’t from the OED, it was from the OSX Dictionary widget. Yes, this indicates a level of laziness uncommon in me. There is, in fact, an OED just 27.7 feet from where I sit – I know this because I actually got up to measure the distance (ed: no he didn’t). But even though I went to the basement, fetched the 25′ tape measure, made two measurements to determine the exact distance betwixt myself and our OED, I did not, in fact, take the extra five minutes to read that tome’s definition of “aspen.” Why? First, there’s the 4 point type which requires a magnifying glass to actually read. Then there’s the reading glasses I’d have to fetch from the car in order to read the magnified text. Etc.

The point is that we’ve returned from the Aspen Design Summit. The place/gathering which was hopefully to provide our film about Greensboro, Alabama a most profound beginning. In retrospect, we should have realized this would not be the outcome. A brave contingent of architects, designers and world-changers meeting in the ardent autumn colors of Aspen, Colorado to tackle the blight of rural poverty in Hale County, Alabama might not wish to have their feat documented by our little film crew. And, in fact, they didn’t, so we didn’t

However, our trip did introduce us to many amazing people that we were able to film. And while it wasn’t the outcome we had wished for, it was the best outcome we could have hoped for.

As excited as I am about the award, I’m finding it very difficult to put aside the question: what does LEF stand for? It’s a series of three capital letters, doesn’t that suggest an acronym? Interestingly, during a panel discussion about documentary film funding at the recent CIFF (Camden International Film Festival – they seem pretty open about their acronym) I heard LEF refered to as both L.E.F. and LEF, as in “lef”. As in, the word “left” with the final consonant dropped – precisely how we pronounce it in my sultry youth in New Orleans. So, is it L.E.F. or lef? And if it’s lef, what does that mean, exactly? Is it a, currently, non-sense word; the intended purpose of which is to add a new short-hand, linguistic concept to our American vernacular? Is the sound of “lef” to become synonymous with “good documentaries funded through the generosity of private sponsorship?” I’ve tried recalling similar attempts at this tactic and haven’t had much success; the obvious ones are “google” and “spam,” but both are “real” words simply appropriated by new concepts that overshadow their previous meanings.

How often are truly new words introduced into the English language? Yes, asking this question begs a plethora of tidy responses suggesting the commonplace occurrence of such linguistic parthenogenesis, but in the everyday scheme of things, it’s quite rare.

What does this suggest? That LEF is, in fact, an acronym – regardless of how it is pronounced? LEF or L.E.F., it is a series of letters that are the leading characters in an otherwise unidentifiable series of words which, when taken in whole, have a meaning that in some way suggests the goals, history or intended purpose of the organization. This being the case – why isn’t it obvious? Does LEF, or L.E.F., or lef intentionally obfuscate their meaning in order to save themselves from ridicule or, worse yet, base humor? What does that ‘E’ really mean?

Regardless of their meaning, however, we are, at present, very much enamored with these three letters.

Thank you, LEF (or lef, or L.E.F.) for seeing the possibility that we see in Hale County, and in us.

John was heading to a piece of Alabama called Hale County – currently the second poorest county in the United States (more on that distinction later). This summer was his third in the small town of Greensboro. For the last three years he has spent a month in this small town of just under 3,000 with a group of young  designers from all over the country. His primary goal – to teach them to think wrong. In fact, we heard on numerous occasions that the process he goes through with these young designers makes them unemployable. Or, more precisely, that they leave Project M with the desire to not work within the traditional design industry. What, exactly, does that mean? We needed to find out; to experience John and his Project M’ers (as they call themselves); to experience Greensboro, Alabama.

So we packed our filming goodies and went south to find out for ourselves.

We went to Hale County – the small but vibrant town of Greensboro specifically – to follow a group of ten young creative people participating in Project M (more about this to come). Two weeks ago I would have called this decanthrop a contingent of designers, but Hale County and John Beilenberg changed all that. These ten creatives came to Greensboro, Alabama, to gain and perhaps confront a new perspective of what it means to effect positive change. Apparently change is in abundant supply in Hale County, though perhaps not obviously so.

Our following of the Emmers, as we would come to know them, was and is in service to a documentary we are currently filming – more on that to come as well.

For now it’s good to be home, though we’re ready to go back. I turned to Brooke as we stepped off the plane in Manchester, New Hampshire at 12:31 am on a chilly Monday morning and said, “can’t we just stay on the plane and ride it south?” Apparently not – it was going on to Chicago.