If you don't think the world's weird, you're not paying attention.

Autobiographical Cards

I made these autobiographical cards in the late eighties as a prelude to an animated film that has yet to be made.

Earliest memory? Possibly Disney's Pinocchio at the Drive-In.

Dancing to Chubby Checker's "Peppermint Twist," I hit a table. The scar's still there.

The cinema was next to our apartment in Wappinger Falls, NY.

My babysistter's son had an Ideal Robot Commando which both frightened and fascinated me.

For years I remembered the drive to my grandparents' as being nothing but trees.

My first friends in Tivoli were Catherine and her brother Gregory.

I climbed the Tivoli water tower to see if my mother was coming home from work. Age? 5.

I climbed the Tivoli water tower to see if my mother was coming home from work. Age? Five.

First day of school.

First day in school.

Stomach pains kept me out of school, but the doctors were stumped.

I had speech therapy at Red Hook School through second grade.

Neighbor Topper, one year older and much bigger, terrorized me for years. The chestnuts came from a tree in the mayor's yard across the street.

Uncle Bill's cannon, that I knew only from his description, shot a variety of large corks. I wanted it to use against Topper.

Susan and I: Tivoli's trapeze artistes of the swing-set crowd. We especially liked to do our stunts near dusk when huge flocks of birds flew overhead on their way to the river cove.

Susan's brother Kenny and I, twirling together on a rope in our yard. It was a special moment that was never repeated, despite our repeated attempts.

The tree was scarred, but still lives today.

Mr. Wicks was Susan's dad. He was tired of hearing us kids bickering over the tree.

Our parents told us not to talk to each other and, even on the bus, we did not.

I missed half a year of fourth grade, diagnosed with arthritis. I exaggerated the pain.

When I returned to school in fifth grade, my best friend avoided me. Trying to find out why, he replied with a gut punch.

Alone on the playground as the other kids play football.

This image could be from just about any of my school years, but especially fifth grade.

I wanted to be Spiderman. I made a costume from old wash cloths and tried to climb the house walls.

I had next to no contact with Kim Schwamb, and just barely remember her name, but I still remember this.

Hearts, Blackjack, Spades, Canasta, Pinochle, Bridge, and a little Poker.

I was actually on the team for a few weeks. The coach explained it this way: I thought I could carry an extra man, but he insurance company said no. My dad, who played high school basketball, was there to hear this.

The Christ Complex stage.

Ninth grade, New Year's Day late night, WOR TV from New York, Citizen Kane.

This isn't really an exaggeration.

No one knew that while I was supposed to be in church, I went into the nearby woods.

This "moment of enlightenment" actually occurred while mowing the lawn.

First: my father's Disney book; then PBS' "International Animated Film Festival" with Jean Marsh.

Another "moment of enlightenment" thanks to Immanuel Kant.

Making a film frame by frame for a year really does change the way you see.

A Perseid meteor shower in August. September meant college.


Written by David Kilmer

January 19, 2010 at 11:06 pm

Posted in Uncategorized