Producer/Director Haydn Keenan on 27A and his Cult Film Career…

*contains strong course language

Haydn Keenan (1951-) is originally from Melbourne. He formed the company Smart Street Films with his friend Esben Storm while they were still teenagers and moved to Sydney to work for the Commonwealth Film Unit as you will learn from this interview… He made one of his first short films Stephany in 1972 which won an award. He would produce the well regarded 27A (1974) and make the short film Cello in 1978. He directed a rare interview with Nobel Prize nominee Christina Stead in 1980 after agreeing to share a bottle of gin. He also directed the cult items Going Down (1982) and Pandemonium (1987). He received kudos for the documentary mini-series Persons of Interest (2013-14). He is an award winner for Best Film from the Australian Film Institute (now AACTA) for 27A. Here he talks about his career…

Haydn Keenan by Marco Lanza

Where did you meet Esben Storm and Richard Moir?

Esben and I went to school together in Melbourne at University High School and we were all in one way or another involved in drama and in our little group there were people who did photography and that sort of stuff and while we were still at school we formed Smart Street Films… we lied about our age because you weren’t allowed to be under 18 and run a company… and our articles of association entitled us to run amusement arcades, circuses and theatrical performances and to make films… Esben’s first short film was Doors (1969) which I starred in with my first girlfriend and my first film was One Man Bike starring his first girlfriend… they were well received, they were the type of thing that cost 1500 or a couple of thousand dollars… you can see there’s no sync sound in Esben’s film but we moved forward slightly… there’s more sync sound in my film… I think we did those two… we had made short films at school with virtually all our school friends using 16mm… there wasn’t a huge amount of work going on in Melbourne and Esben got a job at the Commonwealth Film Unit (in Sydney) and then I got a job at the Commonwealth Film Unit… around 1970 and we came up and worked at Roseville in the most fantastic, stimulating and educational environment you could imagine….

Director Esben Storm. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

We were shit-kicking assistants and Richard Moir was also one of those shit-kicking production assistants but at the same time there was Peter Weir who was there directing documentaries about art galleries or whatever it was you were assigned to. There was the most marvellous department with Donald McAlpine in the camera department, Dean Semler who went on to win many awards. There was what I also came to realise later, a solid strand of Communist Party people. There was Keith Gow (1921-87) from the Waterside Workers Film Unit and a chap who became very much a mentor of Esben’s and mine – Cecil Holmes (1921-94) – who had made Three in One (1955) and Captain Thunderbolt (1955).

Anne Thomas, Haydn Keenan, Malcolm Richards (Director of Photography) and Esben Storm making Doors (1969. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

He was making something about Asian students for the first time in ten years after being blackballed as a Communist while we were at the Commonwealth Film Unit… We weren’t (Left-wingers) we were just filmmakers – stupid kids just trying to make films!… We tried to make these two films about our own teenage angst, conflicts with sex, power and religion… I was a great believer that the first film should get it all off your chest or get it all out and get onto your second one… Esben made a short film called In His Prime (1972) which was a faux documentary current affairs film about the life of a successful businessman/bureaucrat who ends up getting the sack and it shows what happens to him for the rest of the day as his life collapses. I shot In His Prime as I had a background in photography and acting. So that’s why it looks a bit rough… and I started on a film Stephany (1972).

Esben Storm on the set of Stephany (1972). Photo by Haydn Keenan.

From what I’d seen at the Commonwealth Film Unit was that if you could make a film preferably with one actor in one room, that was the minimum it could get to… I had been working as a student actor at the Melbourne Theatre Company and had done a couple of things at La Mama, this was the beginning of the explosion of creativity… Chris Hemsley had written a one-man play at La Mama and we decided to make a film and script and a wonderful actor named Malcolm Robertson (1933-2016) came up to Sydney and we shot the film in a basement at Darlinghurst and I think we started filming on Friday night and finished Monday morning…

Actor Malcolm Robertson

So we managed to film a 28-30 minute drama in one room in two days. The story is about a guy who lives in a fantasy world in a closed-up junk shop and the place is inhabited by memories… I guess it was a bit of a Roger Corman where we gradually moved the furniture around so the room itself became really huge… Esben and I had moved into a slum in Darlinghurst in Crown Street and someone knocked us up a shingle which read Smart Street Films… at 299 Crown Street, I’ll never forget it…

I understand from Richard Moir there was a lot of dope smoking and acid dropping going on at the time…

Well, there was… well, everyone or anyone who was, you know, investigating themselves or life et cetera and who wasn’t aiming to be a chartered accountant later… Richard gave me my first joint actually in a Hillman car listening to Astral Weeks (ed. A studio album by Van Morrison)… I dropped acid… it was wonderful… and LSD is making a comeback as medically it is used for depression, alcoholism and anxiety… LSD was my favourite one!…

Smart Street Films logo. Courtesy of Smart Street Films Pty Ltd.

So, we made these two films and I think they cost around $2000 each. We were paying for them out of our pay packet from the Commonwealth Film Unit… I think I was on $49 a week – before tax! So, we were paying for our own little productions and the Sydney Film Festival had a competition called the Benson and Hedges Awards and there was one for short films… there was the documentary and experimental (categories) and so that Esben and I wouldn’t compete with each other, we entered my film Stephany in the fiction/drama section and his film which we knew was completely faux in the documentary section… and they both won! We won two of the three categories on the night!

Cecil Holmes’s Three in One (1955) poster

It was a massive kick-off, so being moguls, we immediately thought the next stop would be a feature film. We were massively encouraged in that regard by Cecil Holmes who encouraged us not to listen to detractors or people who thought younger people couldn’t make movies. “Get out there and just fucking do it, son”. Cecil was an irascible, fantastically inspiring old bloke who was incredibly supportive of our careers…

I think Esben spotted a story in one of the Sunday papers about Section 27A of the Queensland Mental Health Act which allowed the Bjelke-Petersen junta to keep anyone in a hospital for the criminally insane till that person could prove their eligibility to be released. The onus was on you rather than them… and the story was about a lawyer who had managed to get a bloke out from Wolston Park Hospital in Brisbane. I think he had been stuck there for over two years! He was alcoholic but he wasn’t criminally insane… We started writing and the time between seeing a newspaper clipping and shooting was… I can’t recall, but Smart Street was doing short films… The Council for the Arts had a bit of money and they started this archival program where older artists could tell their life story and we got a contract to make eight or ten of these things which was fantastic, so we had a cash flow…

The rotting innards of Wolston Park Hospital today

I understand the budget for 27A was around $37,000. Is that right?

It was about that. The money… one of the extraordinary things was that to raise the bulk of that money, I bought a second hand suit from St. Vincent de Paul (ed. A charity shop) and got a briefcase and worked out the richest street in Sydney which was Wolseley Road at Point Piper and went down there after work one night and started knocking on doors… it seems so insane today… The first was a vicar who gave me a cup of tea and told me he had no money and all the best… and I got the door slammed on me two or three times and the fourth door was the biggest stockbroker in Sydney with a crystal glass of whiskey in his hand and he said I’ll give you three minutes and four minutes later I had the budget… and he said there was one criteria and that is my son gets a job on the film, anything except produce or direct… He also said: I’d very much like to present the script to a friend of mine who stays here. And I thought: Oh yeah… It’s Sir John Mills (1908-2005 stroke), it sounds like something he could do perfectly…

Richard Moir on location for 27A. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Anyway, we had the guts of our budget and started casting. Bill Hunter (1940-2011 liver cancer) … it was his first job. He had been in England for a number of years. I had been over there as a kid and seen him in soap operas and all kinds of things and this was his first film on returning to Australia… We were sitting in an office painted black and blue with some posters… from a show we’d done with four of our films… So, there was these one-coloured posters… I was 21, Esben 22 or 23… Bill Hunter comes in and he says: This is great. And he cut the interview short. It’s a great thing if you can do it, cut the interview short and leave. He’s there: You know where to get me… and went off down the pub. As he walked out, we both looked at each other and thought this bloke has definitely got it!

Esben Storm shirtless on the set of 27A. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

A couple of people came in dressed as alcoholics – I won’t name them – which freaked me and Esben out but we didn’t show it. We didn’t know quite how to handle it… Then Robert McDarra (1931-75 long illness, possible alcoholism) came in and we thought he was perfect.

What can you tell me about McDarra?

He was a fantastic actor… I think he drank a lot… I certainly reject in the strongest fashion that it was easy to do the role he played… He was great to work with… he was a funny bugger and he realised the importance of this, it was a leading role… and when everyone was making tits and arse and fucking bullshit fucking historical dramas, we were doing something which was more plugged into the French, British and American New Wave.

Robert McDarra in 27A. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Everyone else in Australia was trying to be 60s corporate or old sort of colonial… it was horrendous… And the young people were sweeping aside the old regime – whether it be Medium Cool (1969)… or that whole English social realism stuff like Ken Loach… We were a part of that, we weren’t connected to the Australian industry very much at all. We felt much more connected with what was going on internationally which made us a bit isolated in a way… but we were so fucking confident and arrogant that it didn’t matter!

Haskell Wexler’s Medium Cool (1969) poster

We had a couple of our leads and Brian Doyle (no info) who was a stand-up club comedian played one of the other nurses and Richard was perfect to play his character while a friend of his who played guitar Michael Norton fitted in… So, we basically had our cast.

… 27A was shot in 16mm with the plan to blow it up into 35mm… unfortunately we didn’t have enough money to blow it up… about 20 years ago now, we managed to get a restoration done and suddenly the aesthetic came to life… There was some wonderful photography in it… we set up a location (at a Sydney hospital grounds) and set up a number of tents around a ritualistic bonfire and the crew moved in up there. It was really one of those magical shoots where there were friends from Melbourne and more professional people from the Commonwealth Film Unit and each tent had its own sort… there were acid people in one tent, the Divine Light in another, and the drinkers in another and the vegetarians in another tent.

Legendary British director Ken Loach

So, it was a fantastic, wonderful experience, one of those things you get into film for… We shot it in eighteen days, there might have been the odd pick-up. But we knew we had something pretty good, just from the standard of the performances… We knew we had something here but whether it would cut through whereas everyone else was doing tits and arse films was another matter – we knew we had something pretty good.

Legendary gaffer Brian Bansgove and production secretary Carmel Lonsdale in the tent city erected for the making of 27A. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Did 27A get a proper release?

Its release was problematic. We got an answer print and we entered it in the AFI Awards and it got nominated. Bob McDarra got nominated for Best Actor and a nomination for the film as Best Fiction or Drama.

Esben and I went down to Melbourne to the red-carpet affair… We cleaned up and won Best Film. Bob won Best Actor… It irked the tits and arse and older brigade no end. Tim Burstall (1927-2004 stroke) was asking: Why aren’t you making commercial films, this can’t be commercial?… They were a bit nasty to us, they felt kind of threatened. I never felt threatened by a pack of people who made Alvin Purple (1973) or Stork (1971). But they were threatened by people who made 27A. They were quite negative in their snideness.

Alvin Purple was the type of tits and arse films made in the early 1970s

Esben and I got up on stage on the night it won and said to all those people who said young people can’t make movies can go “get stuffed”… (ed. A similar moment happened when Michelle Payne won the Melbourne Cup in 2015 and told those who thought a woman could never win to “get stuffed”.)… But unlike Michelle Payne, who was soundly congratulated, that silly old c*%t Hector Crawford (1913-91) who ran Crawford Productions and sucked government money by threatening to sack people every time he had a bit of a downturn, wrote a letter to the editor at one of the Melbourne papers saying this is the appalling behaviour of these people at the Kew Town Hall and they are not the type of people we should have in the film industry.

Hector Crawford…

We flew back to Sydney at Market Street to sign our distribution agreement and there was the press clipping on the desk to greet us… (British Empire Films/Greater Union) tore up the contract and threw us on to Market Street. So, we were standing out there after all this work, it was a tremendous shock… So, we had no distribution.

….Say goodbye to your distribution

…Sometime later I got a phone call and someone said: I’m the principal secretary for Attorney-General Lionel Murphy and he would like you to bring the film into his office tomorrow and show it to him. I thought: Pull the other one!… and it was true. So, I took a print to Lionel Murphy’s office in the city, showed him the film and he came back at the end of the week and he said: It’s fantastic, it’s great and I hear that you’re having problems. What can I do to help?

Conservative Jim Killen was respected on both sides of politics

And I said: We can’t get into a cinema anywhere… and he wrote a name on a piece of paper and said: Look, this is a mate, Jim Killen, who was a Minister of Defence in the previous Liberal government (ed Murphy, incidentally, was in the succeeding Labor Government) and he’s a good bloke. So, he said (Killen’s) brother is connected with Birch, Carroll and Coyle in Brisbane, so maybe you can get in on up there. So, we rang and went up to Brisbane and they liked it but not enough. We were a bit strapped to we did a couple of screenings at the Sydney University… and a bit of this and that and then Natalie Miller was just starting a small distribution company and she contacted us and said are we interested in blah, blah, blah… and she managed a place in Melbourne called the Playbox which was a live theatre but was about to close down. They had some projection there and so we decided to go with her and she managed to get something from the government which was a guarantee against loss so she wasn’t taking any risk at all!…

Haydn, aged 19 and Esben, 20 shoot One Man Bike. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

So, we put it on at the Playbox and on the opening night it went down really well, we knew it would work, we were very confident about it and in the foyer afterwards, women were making a bee-line for Richard – and Esben and I were looking at each other… I’ll never forget it… we were looking across the fucking foyer and, hello, we’ve got a screen idol here! And that was the beginning for Richard of an acting career. It was palpable.

How would you describe Richard’s acting style as a director?

He sort of had a little bit of that brooding, troubled thing… a subterranean aspect of trouble… there’s more beneath the surface than on the surface. We knew Richard as a hilariously funny friend but that night Esben and I saw this thing and just went: Wow! Down the track after a couple of other projects we cast him in In Search of Anna.

Esben Storm and Richard Moir (right) near Cannes. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Were you on set for much of In Search of Anna?

I wasn’t on set on that one much at all… maybe the post-production.

It’s still a very good script and again it’s something that… it has a lot more connection with international narratives, story-telling that would otherwise would often be telegraphed and signalled in plodding Australian narratives… There are the French things whether it be The Mother and the Whore (1973) or Celine and Julie Go Boating (1974). There are things that people were experimenting with other than linear narratives…

The Mother and the Whore (1973) poster

Esben and I after 27A came out… It had these rip-roaring reviews, which must have irked the old farts some more… We took it to Cannes and I remember sitting on a sea wall with Es and we talked about the potential to deconstruct cinema over language as a craft and reassemble it… Hendrix had done it with guitar and the world was being deconstructed and reassembled and we thought the use of sound and images could be pulled to bits and reassembled into a new form of storytelling and audience engagement… If you look at In Search of Anna, you could see those narratives quite disparate in their time and their place and them coming together.

Going Down is another interesting film narrative and piece of cinema…

Going Down, in what is very much a realist piece, as the night goes on and the drugs and things get more fraught, you gradually move into an area of cardboard moons and Shakespeare… mixing of story-telling techniques that reflect, or are part of, the atmosphere… you’re not talking about it, you are it… and something like Going Down, you get to the end of the movie and it’s like you’ve been out all night… if you’ve ever had one of those nights – it’s like an acid trip and the sun comes up and you’re washed out and you think: fuck, did that happen?

Tracy Mann in Going Down (1983). Photo by Tony. Courtesy of Smart Street Films.

We had to reshoot ninety percent of that film… we knew we had a dead-set screamer, it was so fresh and so alive. It was quite so adventurous at times and yet I’m kind of old school in other ways… We decided to audience test the thing. We knew our market was 18 to 30 all else could get fucked – we didn’t care how offended they’d get or whatever. We assumed we’d get an R-Rating which I don’t think we did in the end. So, we did audience testing on 18 to 30-year-olds and when we collated all the responses, we had a smash hit. They loved it and they loved it for all the right reasons. It was about them, it was by them, it was talking about their world… With the exception of one girl (in the movie) who everyone fucking hated. Everyone fucking hated her! They just thought she was a slut!…

David Argue and Going Down actress and writer Moira MacLaine-Cross. Photo by Tony. Courtesy of Smart Street Films.

There’s a lot of flawed characters in there… but this one girl… and we sat her down and said: look we’re going to have to shoot some scenes and warm you up a little bit just we’re you’re really tough and aggressive but we want to show some signs of care or underlying anxiety… and she told us to go get fucked and stick the film up your arses your bourgeois c*#t… so we sacked her… And with the four girls… the girls are in every scene almost, we had to find someone else and had a queue about 150 metres long of talent and young actresses desperate to get this part and we gave it to Vera Plevnik who did a wonderful job… The other girl, she’s in two or three shots.

Vera Plevnik (left) and Julie Barry in Going Down. Photo by Tony. Courtesy of Smart Street Films.

Vera Plevnik was killed in a car accident shortly afterward the film wrapped (ed. She wasn’t driving apparently). I think she gives a still modern performance…

I think the film’s still modern… many of those fashions have come back and the music hasn’t dated. I saw it recently when it was screened at the Vivid festival and I hadn’t seen it in a billion years and it stood up pretty well. The best thing is that young audience, particularly young women which it’s aimed at in their early 20s absolutely loved it – the same way the young girls had loved it when it first came out… and we had the same problem with that film (with distribution). Roadshow denounced the bloody thing and Hoyts wouldn’t touch it… But it got a release and there were lines down George Street and full houses for weeks.

Otherwise there were things like We of the Never Never… these tired old dramas and here was something aimed at the group that no-one wanted to associate with… the closest they’d get would be the anodyne Puberty Blues!

To go back to In Search of Anna and the music. The soundtrack would cost a fortune these days with AC/DC and John Martyn amongst them. I guess Esben got the rights for a song?

John Martyn’s vinyl recording

There was a bulk deal with Alberts Publishers for AC/DC and The Angels… AC/DC were still only playing Bondi at the time… Michael Norton stayed in a lift going up and down for about an hour at The Sebel Townhouse where all the musos stayed when they were touring until John Martyn the Scottish singer got into the lift and Michael put it on him and he came down to the ABC studios on William Street – it was a bottle of scotch, an ounce of dope and a thousand bucks and he played for a couple of hours… and he had his stuff liberally sprayed throughout the soundtrack. It’s a great soundtrack.

(As for distribution) I think Esben and I went down to Greater Union who was going to distribute but they didn’t know what to do so they gave us an offer…

Director Haydn Keenan (centre) on the set of Pandemonium as Dr. Doctor. Photo by Carolyn Johns. Courtesy of Smart Street Films.

Let’s talk about your movie Pandemonium…

The kid’s love it! It came out of a building that a number of people including Esben and I lived in in North Bondi… it was just so dissolute and creative. There were The Divinyls practising downstairs, Max Cullen lived in the next flat and there were writers and actors and musos and it was chaos… And it partly came out of going to the Italian Mifed and realising there were titles like Troma’s Surf Nazis Must Die and there were films coming out with these outrageous storylines… and we thought: Why don’t we try to do one of those?

Arna-Maria Winchester (left) in Pandemonium (1987). Photo by Carolyn Johns. Courtesy of Smart Street Films.

What sort of a style or tone were you attempting?

We were aiming for Corman style exploitation, you know, half John Waters and half Roger Corman. It got a little bit desiccated at some stage as we worked the script a little too much. We should have left it rawer than it became…

It’s hard to categorise…

It is… and its problematic when you can’t categorise a film. It’s full of fantastic ideas and no matter how cool you are, or liberal you are, there’s always something that makes you say: Oh, don’t do that… oh, fuck, they did!

David Argue as Greg in Going Down. He played one of the leads in Pandemonium. Photo by Tony. Courtesy of Smart Street Films.

David Argue was very good…

David’s fantastic, the budget was $700,000… I got a call from acquisitions in Disney and they said: I’ve heard about this film and I’d really like to see it. I said: No way mate. There’s no way you will touch this film. He said: I’ll pay for the freight from Sydney and you’ll have it back in ten days. I just want to take a look at it… Ten days later he rang back and said: I’ve been in the business 37 years and I have never seen anything like this. And he said: Tell me what your budget was… And I said: You tell me… and he said: Fifteen million dollars.

David Argue was Snowy in Peter Weir’s Gallipoli (1981)

It was crazy from whoa to go… We got a map of the world and stuck a pin in it and that was your accent. Arna-Maria Winchester got some Louisiana Blanche Dubois thing, David had a Terry-Thomas-Dennis Price Ealing Studios type of thing… There’s not one frame of sync sound in it… all the sound was created later. Men at Work and Australian Crawl did some music, so we had these wonderful music tracks. It got a million-dollar sale to Japan – they absolutely loved it but the Australian distributors freaked out totally…

Les Patterson Saves the World (1987)

Too close to home…

I think so, mate. It was designed very much for Australian audiences… foreigners won’t get all the in-jokes whereas Australians will get every one of them, virtually. Again, it screened at Vivid screen festival a couple of years ago and it packed out, they had to put on more sessions. I know I got blackballed for a number of years (because of Pandemonium) as whoever made that movie has got to be insane!

The main entrance hallway in the film came from the Sydney Theatre Company’s production of Hedda Gabler – we grabbed it before it went to the tip and put it on a truck and repainted it. (Someone else) said we’ve just finished shooting Les Patterson Saves the World and the set is down inside a factory… we’ve got a North African Algerian street plus a harem plus an interior palace if you want to go shoot – the place is going to be bulldozed in about three months. We went down there and repainted bits of it to make it look like an old movie studio. Part of the thing was to spend as little money as possible but to cheat and make it look like a big movie which I think came off pretty well.

It’s a skid-mark across the landscape of Australian cinema!

A taste of Smart Street Films…

How would you describe Esben Storm and Richard Moir as human beings …

They’re good blokes. It’s a shame Richard didn’t get to do comedy. He’s a hilarious guy, he truly is. We put on a production of Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape with David Argue. It’s a one man show (ed. Richard was a producer) with David as the star… at an artist’s colony outside Melbourne. It was just hilarious – Richard with Parkinson’s, David with stage fright, with these three Enfante terribles trying to put their careers on track, which is what the story is about… Richard was sickeningly funny.

Richard Moir at Cannes for 27A. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Es had the potential to be a major international filmmaker and some of the knocks that were sent his way after In Search of Anna didn’t come off… They were good films but they weren’t recognised… He started to make things that were easy to get finance and that drew him away from what was a unique path that would have put him in the category of a major international artist. And perhaps with the exception of Peter Weir, for all the hundreds of millions of tax funded money, we’ve turned out some enjoyable, jobbing industrial directors and nothing more.

He did Subterano (2003) and that’s what really stuffed him. He’s gone out doing the children’s television stuff (ed. An incredibly successful show called Round the Twist 1990-2001) and he had a pretty free hand there. His work was very popular, it ticked all the right boxes but I believe it drew him further away from what I thought he could be… you get pigeon-holed… He came back and did Subterano which was a scream of anger and he got sacked off his own film… He said they didn’t have the balls to sack me face to face, they emailed me. It went down in a screaming heap.

A young Esben Storm. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Es was very good at raising money but as I say from that sea wall in Cannes where we talked about that potential to create a new sensibility and vision of cinema… I truly believe Es had the skill and capacity and the intellectual insight and the right training to be a major artist and I don’t mean the ones that make a lot of international films, the Fred Schepisi’s… I don’t mean that at all. I mean, and it sounds silly, but I mean Bergman – up there with those iconic people. That’s the sad bit for me. And the decisions we made in telling the old farts to get stuffed on a town hall stage and having your contract torn up… and you think you can I take it back? And you think: No. I can’t.

Haydn Keenan near the beginning directing his short film Stephany. Photo by Haydn Keenan.

Just a final word on another part of your resume. You interviewed Australian Nobel Prize nominated author Christina Stead (1902-83) in her later years… She was an alcoholic I understand.

She was incredible. She refused to be interviewed on camera. I went there with Malcolm Richards. We had shot our first films together and she was living at a friend’s Hazel Rowley’s at Glen Iris… It was about ten o’clock in the morning and we sat down and she didn’t want to know… But she liked men and after a while she said would you boys like a drink and the director of photography being a major semi-professional drinker said: Oh yeah, sure, what have you got? And she cracked open this bottle of gin and we fucken drank the bottle of gin at 10.30 in the morning. And after the bottle of gin she said: All right you can do it. Just don’t make me look ugly. And we got this amazing interview with her where you get to see what an intellect… She was an incredible woman. It was a couple of days I’ll never forget.

To read about Haydn Keenan’s cult movie career with Esben Storm PRESS HERE.

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.