Pitch Deck 9/18 : Chromatic Rhythm Picth 9:18
FADE IN, DARKNESS, A COLOR WHEEL
On the road of the Color Wheel Bridge, there’s a yellow orb/person/individual (for the sake of continuity I’ll call it yellow orb, but it might change it’s form later on) walking. Suddenly, it stepped on to a block (red block?), which sinks in and starts to make some wired sound that, obviously, does not sound very pleasant.
The yellow orb felt being trapped, sinking deeper into the Color Wheel Bridge. No matter how hard it struggles, the bridge keeps acting like a soft bubble gum that just got spit out by someone; the bridge keeps sucking the orb in like an old granny trying to eat a string of noodle.
In the blink of an eye, the orb got sucked into the bridge. As frightened as it gets, it shrinks its body down to the tiniest ball as if that will protect it from whatever’s out there. A second goes by, it felt unharmed. So it checks its surroundings and find out there’re many others just like it.
[camera zooms out revealing that it’s one dot on a pointillism painting – A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte]
A wind starts to blow the whole painting, the dot gets blowed away helplessly. Everything turns into spiral, lengthy strings, moving slowly. The orb, once again, tries to check what’s going on, finding itself being in the painting The Starry Night.
Following the arc of its movement, the orb got tossed out and fell right into the Fountain, by Duchamp.
Sinking through the white ceramic, the yellow orb got squished into a corner. This time it’s in the Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow.
[Camera moves down revealing the black bar supporting yellow orb, somehow, disappeared.]
Eyes wide open, the orb fell down and got splashed onto a canvas. Feeling very innocent and panic. Soon other colors got splashed to company it, with the same “what the fu*k is going on” look. Camera cut, revealing it’s Jackson Pollock’s White Light, and the artist is still splashing all the paint he has onto the rest of the canvas.
A black paint got splashed on top of the orb, squishing it in its most extreme form, triggered a travel back into the past, till the second before it is about to step onto that block and trigger everything again.
The orb stops, looking down at the block with no emotion, almost a terrifying disdain look. It gets closer to observe the block. And suddenly it looks up and stares right at the viewer as if its the viewer’s fault no rescuing it.
CUT TO BLACK