18 weeks into her pregnancy, my wife suffered a miscarriage in July 2018.
It is important to understand the series of events that preceded the miscarriage. I was in a beautiful place of my own creation (my depiction of the Louisiana bayou and its gorgeous orange sunset), living life to the fullest with my lovely wife and newborn daughter.
Unfortunately, another woman (plane crash) came into my life and I got entangled in her messy marital situation (male gator vs female gator fighting it out). Nature dictates that human beings should never interfere in wildlife affairs because it will disrupt the equilibrium they are working to maintain. Because of my curious nature and desire to be there for her in her time of need, I made such a delicate situation worse by getting emotionally/romantically involved (shotgun to the gators).
As a result, I ended up triggering Pandora's Box (destroyed Pelican case) and the powers that be (the bees) decided to put me in my place. No matter how much I tried to run from the situation (boat chase), I couldn't escape those damn bees (through people getting involved via social media & outer rumblings). It was these series of events that lead to me confessing to my wife and to the world on social media about what I had done and how I hoped our son in utero would be the saving grace that we needed to help us get through this. In the end, it had blown up in my face... everything that kept me afloat (my boat) was shattered to pieces and the world around me turned to darkness.
I found myself sinking deeper into a dark place that I couldn't escape and I was looking for ways to find my way back to the light. When I sought professional help, my therapist suggested that I should take a trip somewhere where I was reminded that the world is still beautiful. A few months later, I found myself in the thick of the Louisiana bayou connecting back with Mother Nature, sorting out my thoughts and atoning for my wrongdoings.
Bees came into the picture through an apiculturist friend named Lia Navarro-Penington. I was terrified of bees, but I am so grateful for her time and her willingness to invite me into her beautiful apiary and teach me the essentials and importance of beekeeping. I was not only proud of conquering a deep fear that day, but also gaining a newfound respect for bees and how hard they work to protect their own. As you will come to understand, I wanted the bees to be a metaphor of the status quo in our respective environments and personal lives. Once our curious and negligent ways tamper with the fragility of that balance of nature in a harmful manner, the bees (Mother Nature) will indirectly keep us in check if she has to and it will lead to disastrous results.
This project is a hybrid of unscripted documentary footage of me in my most vulnerable state. It is a slew of rough animated sequences, harsh sounds and frustrated thoughts combined together to create the so-called "beautiful disaster". There is no resolution or happy ending as you would expect in most films. Like a miscarriage, it just ends and there's no understanding of why. Blast Burn is a reflection of my gratitude toward the bees, Mother Nature and the intangibles of that warm Louisiana humidity for healing my soul.
But more than anything else, Blast Burn is a birthday tribute to my son, Devan Gee Nguyen, who would have been born on January 23, 2019. Rest In Peace.