August 20, 2012 Comments Off
Music Track by Occurrences in the Rain. Directed by Ginnetta Correli
From a film currently in production called: Marty’s House
August 14, 2012 Comments Off
Music by Occurrences in the Rain. Directed by Ginnetta Correli.
Shots on TV from the movie: Diamonds are Forever directed by Guy Hamilton.
March 30, 2012 Comments Off
Been a while since i last posted i know i’ll try harder…
Music by Dirk Driesen
The Forgotten Film Gallery is a web based documentary and video art installation project created by Ginnetta Correli which plans to showcase a collection of films dealing with interpretations of the forgotten and the indefinite time period during and after the present. The Forgotten Film Gallery will attempt to link the past, present and future using unique areas of the Mojave desert and the World Wide Web as it’s gallery installation space.
The goal for the Forgotten Film Gallery is to unite the new with the old. Link the past to the future using the remoteness of the desert as the gallery space and the world wide web as a platform to distribute a documentary freely with the public.
By utilizing the lonely desert as an audience. Contemporary artists might continue to create freely without the fear of rejection. Sharing the film on the web will also allow the general public to recognize and value the importance of our often under appreciated past and present natural environment.
Featuring works from video and sound artists:
Barbara De Dominicis
David Sanchez Burr
Produced by: Fred L’Epée, Barbara De Dominicis, Roland Quelven, Maria Niro, and Ginnetta Correli
December 24, 2011 Comments Off
October 18, 2011 Comments Off
MINDSCAPES IS A FILM EVENT WHICH STRIVES TO BRING TOGETHER ESTABLISHED AND EMERGING ARTISTS FROM AROUND THE WORLD.
FILMMAKERS CASSANDRA SECHLER AND GINNETTA CORRELI HAVE CURATED THE MINDSCAPES SHOW IN ORDER TO CREATE AN ALTERNATIVE SPACE FOR DARK, PERSONAL FILMS OFTEN IGNORED BY THE COMMERCIAL WORLD.
WORKS SELECTED REPRESENT A CRITICAL MOVEMENT HAPPENING UNDER THE BELLY OF MAINSTREAM CULTURE.
NUNO O.C. MADEIRA
SIMON THEIS HANSEN
MARIANO RENTERIA GARNICA
EAT CAKE AND WORSHIP SATAN
AS HUMAN PATTERN
August 24, 2011 Comments Off
Sound: Zigo Rayopineal
Film: Ginnetta Correli
April 18, 2011 Comments Off
Written & Narrated: Alastair Cook
Directed & Edited: Ginnetta Correli
Soundtrack: Pierrepoint’s Epitaph by Dirk Drieson
December 20, 2010 Comments Off
Pollygrind Film Award Best Music Video 2010
Music by Last Nights of Paris David Eng
March 21, 2010 Comments Off
Filmed in Tecopa CA last weekend. Cold. Wind blowing crazy. We left next morning. Use to fantasize baking my old age here. Smoking. Creating. Until the woman cleaning our motel room said: “Don’t drink the water”
The Hanging Stanes
Featured: This Collection McEwan Hall Showcase in Edinburgh, Scotland March 2010
The Hanging Stanes was written by Sam Meekings.
Alastair Cook recites.
Music by Rad Wolf.
January 7, 2010 Comments Off
Film about a lie.
Ambient Sound: David Eng-Last Nights of Paris
Spoken by Ginnetta Correli
October 19, 2009 Comments Off
We finally started filming yesterday for the Who is John Galt video. Thought this week the weather would be cooler at Lake Mead.
It was still 95 degrees. Two of my lead actresses backed out at the last minute and didn’t show up. Down to one crazy nurse, three heat stroked drunks and a few young difficult actors to work with. Ha! Kidding.
October 6, 2009 Comments Off
Three years later. Sunday morning. The father finally speaks to Mary. A fragile man.
Inside a humid sacristy the priest advises the ministers and sacristan.“Mary fill the pitcher. All the way. Use the Boones Farm. It’s going to be a full house today.”
In the name of God. At the alter. Mary helps a frail priest pass eucharist.
“The blood of Christ” She hands the young solder a half full goblet.
“Ah-man” The young man sips the sacrifice.
She stares. Sees blood in the man’s eyes. Mary wonders if the soldier can still smile with a lover. She wipes the glass clean with a lipstick soiled handkerchief.
Most evenings. After dinner. Mary escapes by van to the desert. Alone she listens to classics. The young woman imagining fears. Pain. Mary recalls the other day. At work a handsome rock star sneered at her uniform.
“God what a sleazy looking costume. Come here baby take the dollar”
The next day. In a hot kitchen. The father glares at Mary. She cooks dinner for her dad and a wounded serviceman. Makes chicken garbanzo soup.
“Mary have you ever actually been to confession?” The marine asks.
“No. Fuck. Never got around to it.” She looks inside the dishwasher for a knife.
Most every word out of Mary’s mouth these days is “Fuck.” Her father sticks to a chair. Can’t stand the girl. The old man’s options limited. The soldier hungry as hell. What a slut The father’s daughter still has no degree. She carves and chops dead chicken fat off the butt.
“Shit. Is that the mailman?” Mary wipes her hands with a dirty dish towel.
She runs to the box. The winter schedule arrives. Mary opens the envelope. Looks at it. “Shit!”
The University of Guitar Hero raised tuition fees again. Mary stuffs the college catalog in the trash. -ginnetta correli
October 1, 2009 Comments Off
In wet dreams. Jack penetrates the blind man’s wife. Left with cream splatter on hand. The toilet sea must swallow confessions of love… daily. Ashamed to admit dirty whispers of smelly knickers. The wife has no choice. The mother and infant pirate must drown. The other day the vet told the pretty “bitch” young Jack would grow up to be lazy and lie. Maybe even ingest “Mary” and that girl what’s her name? “Jane”
Life scares the man’s wife. Pinching her once raw now soft nipples. Jack wants only to suck easy treats from plastic bottles instead. To kill is not her blood. A stranger’s blood. The bastard’s blood. Deadline. As canine alpha two bleeds the woman’s heart is ripped. The male pup cries with hunger. Pushed and bitten by “King” baby Jack cast to sea.
August 7, 2009 Comments Off
Finally finished this. Thank You to the band: End of Science for a great tune and to the actors some of whom are pissed at me at the moment.
July 27, 2009 § 1 Comment
Another spoken word about failure.
Written and Narrated: Ginnetta Correli
July 8, 2009 Comments Off
For more music please visit my MySpace page and yes of course it’s me in the kitty suit.
June 17, 2009 Comments Off
A milk skin seed was once stuck in a mother’s death grip. As the weed grew the mother controlled his taste buds. “Sonny chew all your broccoli than you can suck on ice cream. Son your body is too thin come on now hurry up eat it. Now drink it.”
The scene plays again in my mind. Numb the woman can only stare at her son’s final exit. Click. Shot. Bowl cut and happy. A sprout pose grins outside the pain window. Sonny’s virgin eyes two hazel drops curled long lashed and thick. Smiling at me when he was three.
Sonny picks her ripe dandelions. Savior the moment a mother’s battle cry. Dresden bouquets landing on tombs. This man a tragedy
Love of her every bosom move. Supple in a temple worshiped inside and outside the womb. Sonny rocks to sleep. Flying fights. Army green fatigues. Her soldier boy trapped inside a small plastic airplane. An inflicted wound shadow.
“No you listen to me. Your divine mother knows best. Sonny ya better listen to me… Damn it! Don’t you dare stick your tongue at your mother.”
The moon steals the sun. Gone for good. Sonny chokes on the past. His body burned and dies of thirst.
“Goodbye old woman and cold world. I fly at last.” -ginnetta correli
June 4, 2009 Comments Off
Freeze frame, wetsuit
hangten wipe out
by Mike Marcellino
She was an Italian
video digital distraction.
Hangten, wipe out.
from the rock.
hangten wipe out.
She was an Italian
infest with sharks,
from the rock.
frame, wet suit
Hangten wipe out.
Freeze frame, wetsuit hangten wipe out, Copyright Mike Marcellino 2009
May 29, 2009 Comments Off
I created a new You-Doobie today. Maybe you’ll give it twirl if you get the munchies. Thanks for watching.
May 23, 2009 § 1 Comment
I use to change the hamster’s scenery around while my son was at school. Give George fresh air on the patio. Today was no exception. I thought until I forgot. The weather seemed cool. A few clouds. Not warm at the time. It was morning. George will be fine. It’s the least I can do. Poor fellow must be bored staring at the walls from a cage. Let him watch nature.
I twittered. I went to the gym. I ate lunch at the Chinese place then went grocery shopping while George baked in the sun most of the day.
My son does not know George is gone. As a matter fact as I type this death notice. He is watching a James Bond movie with a friend. Maybe by Monday he will realize his hamster cage is missing from the living room and wonder about the fresh patch of dirt near the Saguaros in the back yard. I will keep you posted and let you know.
It sucks for me to know George suffered.
May 8, 2009 § 1 Comment
Lately the editor of this blog has been making Utube Videos. Hopefully they don’t suck. This was made Saturday for the Nurse Lucy Ep to be put out soon. It was orgasmic working with The Echelon Effect. Although, most of the ladies died in the end.
May 7, 2009 Comments Off
My brother the unknown writer and I sail our ship through rocky sand. With twig muskets in hand. We pretend we are pirates. My brother wears the puffy white shirt. His ear lobe pierced wearing a hoop made of fool’s gold.
I am barefoot and decide to remove my wicked wench skirt. Thirsty and now naked. Stuck on top a hot open sea chamber. Both of us fucking. We slide together and fall on a raft made from banana peels.
A desert rat notices our clumsy moves as he eats his dinner from the shore. Chewing at a dead man’s heart. The man drowned and shrunk as a rodent long ago.
With my scream and moan… “Land I feel land!”
Our rotten boat leaking. Injured and hungry we beg the tiny man for a rubber hand out.
“Send me your wet souls for free and just maybe I will save you”
“Not a problem here you go” We spit him our blood.
The rat fake swallows our protein and smiles at my brother’s chest scar.
“Kafka would be proud. The sign of a gifted mind and reads like an amateur I give it two stars.”
Does it matter why we fuck? Desperate we listen as rattlesnakes sing near rocks to the sizzle of sun. My brother and I try to understand why cocks come and go. Scared some even fly. With muskets drawn. Our kissing now fatal. What else can we do? Hidden in someone’s mind my brother and I continue the push and pry.-ginnetta correli
April 30, 2009 Comments Off
April 3, 2009 Comments Off
Five nights a week a college boy chops and cooks desert field mice at the Runaway Ralph Diner near Jack Rabbit trail. He likes the job but sometimes the mice bite him when he takes them out of their cage.
“Don’t worry my frosty cupcake.” With a quick kiss on the young female’s skull. The young cook twists her neck and pulls off her tail. Using a meat cleaver the young chef hacks the mouse in two then slits the skin butterfly style. The cook looks for eggs. Some of the female mice are pregnant so the young chef makes a cut along the belly and removes any embryos.
Those babies are collected and saved in a monkey dish inside the walk-in fridge for Friday.
On Friday nights during busy happy hour the Runaway Ralph serves rodent caviar. This delicacy is served with oyster crackers inside paper Dixie cups for $3.95.
The diner’s boss is cool. She lets the college boy drink red wine and smoke Mary Jane as he prepares the only main entree the Runaway Ralph serves.
The “Dish” prepared in the classic tradition is an inexpensive favorite among desert hunters. Hungry camouflaged suburbanites who crave an alternative to choked chicken.
To prepare the “Dish” the cook loosens his belt and unzips the fly. He knows the kitchen will get hot once grease snaps in a pan.
Exposed at the waist the college boy sits on a plastic glass rack. The sweat browed guy concentrates with constant stare on his mallet. The guy pounds hard and shakes the backside of a young white female mouse.
“come on pretty girl make daddy happy” The boy’s wrist moves fast and hard. The female silent with a fixated stare.
“Come on” his voice shakes.
A jar of Miracle Whip falls from the counter.
“Here it comes”
The jar lands hard on the young lad’s lap.
The container cracks. White thick cream spills onto the young man’s stomach.
The cook’s body shakes. His fingers pinch. A man sniffs and lifts the once pregnant mouse. The man chef opens her wide. The chef stuffs the lifeless woman with some soggy Wonder bread and a final warm squirt of the fake mayonnaise.
With a moan the college boy takes a rest break then smokes the last of the roach while the man chef dips the young mother in fresh thyme and raw egg. The woman is dusted with some powdered sand and fried to golden.
Finally, she is served on a warm ivory plate. -ginnetta correli
March 17, 2009 Comments Off
Brian Eno in Dark Trees
Then chase her.
Capture shots in the mind.
Hide those bullets in a dark closet.
Lock the door.
Watch for the sun.
The sun. -Ginnetta Correli