Paul used to be my neighbor. Now he’s a friend! Also, he’s still Nicci’s neighbor, so I see him pretty much daily. He’s kind of an enigma, because he acts like he hates himself all the time and yet he’s one of the most successful people I’ve ever met. Like, out of everybody I know who has a job or a vocation (ie lawyer, computer technician, teacher) he’s probably the most successful at what he does. Still, I am amused to no end by his depression and foul mouthed antics.
I couldn’t think of anything to write about tonight. While I was eating dinner with Nicci, Tom and Maryn were watching Battlestar Galactica. Paul walked in and instantly started complaining about the culture of watching TV shows religiously. He wanted to do something rewarding, so Nicci and I followed him next door. We put on some tunes and started talking about cavemen and rap music and all sorts of random bullshit. Then I decided I was going to interview Paul for the blog.
Evan: What do you do?
Paul: I am an editor, colorist, and the owner of a post-production and visual effects company.
Evan: I remember the first time I met you was over here, on the same night that I met Sari for the first time. You had run upstairs to do something, and while you were gone Ilya or Rob said, “That guy makes so much money, it’s unbelievable.” I asked what you did for a living — because I was unemployed at the time — and the person said, “He’s a colorist.” I thought, “He’s a hair stylist?” So…What is a colorist?
Paul: In film, television, um, everything you shoot with a camera, after you finish your piece or whatever it is, you take the entire film and you give it a look. You finalize the image. A camera — and this is true for all kinds of photography — never really takes a perfect image. There are always improvements that can be made. You can also just take it somewhere, you know? Definitely more in the film world, you can assign the images a look and feel. For example: Is it cool? Is it warm? As a colorist, you just really think about the film you’re making and figure out what best helps the story visually. In the television industry, being a colorist is just adding contrast and saturation to an image, because nobody in television has any creativity or emotion or feeling, so why even bother?
Evan:How old is your dog Eli?
Paul: Eli’s about three years, and three months maybe?
Evan:Why did you decide to get a dog? You can’t even take care of yourself.
Paul: First of all, I can take care of myself. Uh, I struggle like everyone else. I guess I might have a different set of problems than most people have.
Evan: What are those?
Paul: Just…the inability to sort of, um, maximize my resources, and reach a level of contentment within my self. That’s usually my problem.
Evan: Does Eli help you feel content?
Paul: No. In many ways, Eli was a complete failure, but I love him all the same. He wasn’t there to fill a hole or a void. I’ve always had dogs, and I guess he’s just a good friend of mine by now. I thought it was right to have a dog around. I guess it’s also a matter of getting up in the morning and walking the dog and feeding the dog. I have no structure in my life. The only thing that does structure my day is, whenever my dog has to take a shit, I follow him and pick it up and throw it out for him. Everything else in my life that follows around that action is pretty much out of my control. Yet, however, at least in my job and in my career — or what I’m really trying to do in my life — I’m very successful, considering I haven’t been [in Los Angeles] very long. I haven’t failed at anything anyone’s asked me to do. Everything else is a failure. Overall I’m a failure, for sure. A sad failure. But I do have successes, which probably makes the whole thing worse. I’d rather just be a complete disaster so that at least I’m not lying to myself all day long.
Evan: How did you start your own business?
Paul: Um… (laughs), well, I refuse and still refuse to take a life where I am under anyone’s jurisdiction. Although, I don’t really mind it. I basically — well I was getting a lot of freelance work on the side anyway, and my friend Chad was too (doing visual effects). So we thought, if we could just get a Jewish businessman to make us money — because that’s what they do, and I don’t know what to do with money — we could just sit back and make money, and he can take care of all the business stuff. Things are going alright so far, but it certainly doesn’t have the same comfort as working on garbage all day, but that brings a depressing set of problems where I want to die because making television is like making crack, except worse.
Evan:What do you do for fun? …Is there fun in your life?
Paul: “What do I do for fun?” (laughs). Wow. Well, okay. I guess it’s complicated because…I guess… (Paul sighs) I guess my fun is supposed to be what I do for a living, because I do love editing and putting things together, but I don’t have fun doing it now. The whole process has been ruined. The process doesn’t feel like…Let me put it this way: I guess if me and my creative process were a human, if we were one combined thing, I guess we were raped when younger. Like, the whole thing is just sort of a — it doesn’t really ring as pure as it used to. The purity of being artistic and being creative is raped.
Evan: So…what do you do for fun?
Paul: I’m trying to play some basketball. I try to get some exercise. I smoke way too much weed. Way too much weed. It’s awful. I drink, I go out, I play poker sometimes. Jesus. I’ll listen to music. I try to just kind of watch TV —
Evan: Wait, I thought you hate watching TV. I thought the reason for us coming over here was to get away from friends who were obsessed with TV?
Paul: I do hate TV. I…I have big problems at the moment.
Evan: Is this interview uncovering some things you didn’t want it to uncover?
Paul: No, I’m well aware. Most people who have the same sort of problems I have aren’t aware of them, so they’re way happier. But they should. I’m not engaging with reality as I should, because I’m on this mission that I always sort of put myself on — which I probably should not have — where I planned to somehow create something very new and real. It’s just like every other artist who has dreams, I’m sure. I thought there was something unique about my dream, and since coming here I’ve realized that I’m just another brand. So, although I still believe I have my own unique perspective that could be good for the world, it just comes down to one thing, and that is that it’s no longer a pure thing that I want to put in the world. It’s is just self-indulgence and delusions of grandeur. My dream is just about trying to be a cool and the admired and the respected person…and that’s what I wanted when I started on this mission. And now it blocks me from engaging in reality. It stunted me. And since I realize how shallow that is…it’s really depressing. What I should have done is become a farmer, or gone down in my basement and created fucked up shit that no one would ever see, and I’d be happy with it.
Evan: You meet a lot of big shots?
Paul: No, I’m the man behind the man behind the man as an editor. The only person I’ve kind of met with is the director of a horror trilogy. He was also on a television show about making movies. He’s the only person I’ve ever creatively worked with that is “known”.
Evan: If you walk into a coffeehouse in Silverlake or Echo Park, what do you think about when you look at the people there?
Paul: How do they do this? Especially the people taking their time, savoring their moments. Basically, the people in the coffeeshop are sitting down and talking to another person. They’re listening to what the person says, and they’re thinking about it, and then they say something back to them. While they’re sitting there drinking coffee.
Evan: I think we got that part when I said people in a coffeeshop.
Paul: I don’t understand what level they’re communicating on. Is that real communication? Or is it just passing the time, you know? I’m always like, “What am I doing?” and “How does this end to get to the next thing?” They’re not thinking that. They’re just doing their conversation. What are they really even doing? Like, I don’t know, I don’t really get it. I guess I feel jealous of almost everyone I see…unless they’re foul. Because no one wants to be foul. Pretty much…I’m like, “Huh”. Also, I go in there every day [to the coffeeshop], right across the street, and it reminds me of the people I meet when I walk my dog. They say “How’s it goin’?” and I just want to stand there and not say anything. I don’t even know their names, and by this point I should know their names, but I don’t. Because I don’t care. And they don’t care either but they go the distance pretending they care when they should just stop. They should just stand there. Walk your dog. Saying “Hi” is fine, but the small talk…just stop. They understand that after the fourth or fifth time I don’t respond. They definitely don’t like talking to me because it’s obvious I don’t — especially if they have a kid, because then I start to think they probably think about me, and wonder whether their kid safe. I feel they’re at least expecting of me some sort of perversion. I know they’re expecting me to be perverted, and I’m not thinking anything like that. I don’t have perverted thoughts. So, that ruins my day. And those are the same people who are at the coffeeshop.
Oh, and just walking by that school every day makes me feel like a piece of shit. I walk by and all the kids want to say hi to Eli, but I can’t say anything because someone is going to think I’m perverted. It’s not even perverted. It’s that everyone is just on guard, or at least everybody seems like they’re on guard. I feel like I’m part of a very dirty world. I’m just dirty in general. And they think that’s somehow something they need to be on guard against all the time.
Evan: What’s your middle name?
Paul: Richard.
Evan: Ilya IM’d me to say remember to pay the gas bill, or they’re going to shut it off?
Paul: Yeah, I paid it…
…Do I have to end this with some sort of great quote or something?
No, we’ll just end on an up note. Tell me about Eat.
Paul: Eat the Racer or Eat the Man.
Evan: Let’s just say that my readers don’t know anything about Eat other than you and I play a lot Mario Kart Wii, and there’s a Mii character you’ve created named Eat Me Out. Where do they go from there?
Paul: Eat Me Out is a combination of me and Hitler. And I would say that he’s interesting as far as the Mario Kart World is concerned because he’s sort of a Ty Cobb type, I guess. Tremendously gifted, and not necessarily likable if you were to talk to him, but when you watch him race you just can’t help but root for him. Despite the Nazi shit. You just root for Eat, what can I say? I picture Eat being in those watch commercials where they say “Unstoppable.” In black and white, as he’s getting on his bike. And the commercial would just say Eat, period. I envision a world where people just wear shirts that say, “Eat.”. Sort of like if you had a green and white shirt that says Larry on it, for Larry Bird, or some iconic one name athlete. Like Jordan. Eat is an icon of the sport, a legend like no other. He’s obviously mired in controversy, but you know…just a brown and white shirt that says “Eat.” says it all. He’s just tremendous. I can get past the Nazi shit. It doesn’t mean I want him to be my dad or anything, or even be around me…but just to watch him kart. It draws everyone in. There’s an extra gear in his kart…
…Every time Eli eats he comes downstairs and stands in front of me and burps.
Evan: Do you wanna go kart?
Paul: I wanna kart now, yeah. Totally (Paul sparks a one-hitter and smiles)
