Cartoons at the MoMi

        When I walked into the Museum of the Moving Image, I felt as though I had just entered a spaceship. It felt like the TV room in "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory". I was excited to see the different exhibitions in the building, which included makeup and prosthetics, sound, and even a whole section dedicated to the number of films and features made in Astoria, where the MoMi was located. However, I did not expect to see a whole floor that consisted of the work of the great Chuck Jones.
          The exhibition on Chuck Jones blew me away. There were videos of some his beloved characters, such as Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd, and Wile Coyote, all over the exhibit. There were actual original drawings of his characters in motion. There were storyboards, exposure charts, and even a whole theater which showed Wile and the Road Runner going at it. I saw the earliest version of Bugs Bunny, which actually looked too adorable to not be evil. I saw how he as well as so many other characters evolved throughout the years. I was brought back to my childhood and it hit me that these are truly timeless characters. They were created in the 50s and they are still loved today. I realized that it was the only exhibit I have seen that displayed something that did not exist in the past. Instead, it endures today.      
            Looking back, I can't believe that I did not consider that cartoons were some of the greatest examples of moving image. I had gone into the museum expecting to see a whole lot of silent movies, old black and white films, and gargantuan cameras. I believe it was naive of me to have any type of expectation here. I learned that film and moving image is always changing; however, there will always be films that can last forever and still bring awe and wonder to the screen.

Interview With Matt

I had the chance to interview my friend Matt about his goals and passion in life. This is what he had to say.

SoundWalk

         Today is Halloween. I can hear a faint version of "Jailhouse Rock" echoing through the blocks from my stoop. I can hear children screaming with joy and laughing with terror. The streets of Hoboken are not as bustling as those of New York. Today was an exception. I can hear the streets come to life. I can hear tiny, young voices pleading for candy from half-excited venders and store owners waiting for their break. I can hear the cries of the miniature, mildly-upset spiderman pestering his father for more sweets. I can hear a shriek of sirens getting louder as the ambulance slithered throughout the horde of costumes.
        While walking down away from the parade, I can hear the sounds of the crowd growing mute. It never quite gets there though. I start to hear and feel the wooshing winds cutting through the crisp autumn air. I hear the heavy strides of a runner who just started his daily workout. I can hear water. I hear it splashing against pier A, only to cycle back into the flow of the Hudson. I can hear the sweeping sounds of the swells start to overtake the cries of the city streets. There is a homeless couple singing an Italian folk song in two-part harmony. I can hear the man pluck the nylon strings of his hollow-body acoustic guitar in accompaniment. I can hear the choppy engine of a news helicopter slicing through the sky towards the skyline of Manhattan.
       I can hear the dry leaves scurrying across the pavement at my feet, eager to bring us deeper into the season. I can hear the grunts and screams of painful fulfillment coming from the boxing gym just down the street. I hear the words to "This is Halloween" coming from the Wicked Wolf Tavern getting louder as I walked closer. I hear all of this. But I feel it too. The warmth. The shift from the busy crowds to the quaint riverside is my favorite thing about this city and this time of year. There will always be the exciting and bustling side of life. But there is also the calm, peaceful side that keeps it in balance. It is all life though, in this moment. Today is Halloween.