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Director/Producer/Writer/Powerhouse Gregg Golding of Collage Fossil Films couldn’t have been that baby, found too perfectly unscathed in the thickets such as the story of Moses. He couldn’t have been formulated in those lawless-cults of private islands of The Gates’ Foundation as one of the endless stem-cell conveyor-belt-test-tube assembly-lines of DNA farming. . . surely too, not at all borne as one of those slick, bald, dripping with life-goo, screaming, purple-faced infants ripped into consciousness from one of those at-home turkey-baster DiY zygote-to-infant kits where life magic is flicked and fondled by the witchy-fingered homoeopath mid-wives. . .
More likely Golding’s story originated swimming down through the planet’s crust—Hell’s magma, streaming through infinite loops of bright torture, incredibly, unfairly interrupted and agonized by demons with pitch-forks and empty stomachs around each level of hell’s topography.
However, this is the time of miracles, too. Imagine the soul of Golding suddenly zooming through tight, clenching, brightly-hot canals, exploding–pressurized through the mouth of that bellowing blast–the scream of his life-giver; the mega-volcano, Vesuvius! Just as likely, the atmosphere-shattering Grimsvotn of Iceland or Sakurajima of Japan if not sent from the collections lazily assimilated by an astral body’s sparkling flare from the darkness above our (tele)scope, outside of our simple tools of observation. Couldn’t his origin-plasma and cell-formation swirled and micro-formed through the magic within the belts of planets nearby within the milky-way?
Unscathed and courageous, he surfaced on Earth as Director, Writer, Producer and proven leader Gregg Golding as he instantly began healing the world using his sweat, tears, and blood-signed scripts as the tools of his leadership through Indie Cinema with titles such as 2014’s COSPLAY FETISH BATTLE DRONES and 2017’s 001 TROLLING (available on Amazon Prime 24/7)
Through his years and heroic suffering, walking as a man in a disappearing land of Eden; no longer an oasis from heaven–when we gather to watch Golding’s visions, It’s our chance to devour the nourishment of his cinema mastery which gushing-gold fruits of his nourished canon of films that only persist and multiply for Golding’s ability to pave a way forward when opportunity and ease-of-life evaporate into a lecture, unheeded–no more than a movie-school’s myth bodied mostly now by soulless sock-monkeys paying tuition.
Yet, jealous others must still be there in the underworld writhing in the deep space below the steps we stand now–beware their unheard bloodlust for every landmark success Golding holds, his brothers–the caged and eternally damned Titans cry selfishly from his awesome success and of their dying-hope of devising failure for Gregg Golding–for he is a man crowned honorably! Golding is beyond the times of looming disasters and is our unstoppable hero sent to us to change the world by giving everyone the view of his universes that we can safely nestle our hopes and dreams for this uncapped world of Golding, assuredly with comfort. We are wide-eyed absorbing Golding’s fantastic lands, cinematically as we can follow hand-in-hand, dimensionally traversing experiences beyond our polluted, desolate, Earthen torment.
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