TRACKING FORWARD

We are moving through the open living area of a large downtown L.A. loft. A huge unfinished canvas, lit by standing industrial lights, dominates one wall. The furnishings are spare given the space. On the floor is the Dude’s brilliant rug.

We hear a rumble like an approaching bowling ball. The Dude, standing in the middle of the loft, looks into the murky depths of the cavernous space.

Something huge and white hurtles towards the Dude’s head.

As it roars overhead he ducks, and spins to watch it pass.

We see the backside of a naked woman in a sling suspended from a ceiling track rumbling over a canvas that lies on the floor. She is holding a paint bucket in one hand and a brush in the other, with which she flicks paint down at the canvas.

The Dude turns again as he hears running footsteps. Two young men in paint-spattered shorts, T-shirts and sneakers reach the sling shortly after it reaches the end of its track and haul it back for another push.