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Fair Use of Orphan Works
Welcome to the Public Domain / Fair Use Project!
For a "new" example, see the piece of Flash Fiction below
This project is a continuation of my previous work exploring the power of public domain and fair use laws. My goal is to create a vibrant entertainment catalog using works that are either freely available in the public domain or accessible through fair use provisions.
Why focus on public domain and fair use?
To showcase possibilities: Building an entertainment catalog in this way demonstrates the potential for creativity and innovation without relying solely on newly copyrighted works.
To champion copyright reform: I believe in a copyright system that strikes a better balance between protecting creators and ensuring the public has access to a wealth of cultural material.
Addressing Orphan Works:
While the legal status of "Orphan Works" (copyrighted materials where the owner is unknown) remains complex, I'm prioritizing public domain materials for the time being. I'm hopeful for a legislative solution that provides clarity for everyone.
First up: Edison's "New Blacksmith Shop"
I'm excited to kick off this project by working with the first film ever copyrighted, "New Blacksmith Shop" by Thomas Edison (1893).
Let's get creative!
"New" Blacksmith Shop
A Flash Fiction by Lucas Knight
The flickering hand-cranked projector cast dancing shadows on the worn canvas sheet. William, a scrawny boy of about ten, sat wedged between his parents on the creaking wooden bench. He was under strict orders to behave, his punishment for some forgotten mischief. But his eyes remained glued to the moving picture – a grainy black and white scene of a blacksmith at work. It wasn't the thrilling spectacle of modern movies, yet for William, it opened a portal to another world.
The film, "The Blacksmith's Shop," was a silent marvel born from an earlier age of filmmaking. A stocky man with a handlebar mustache pounded a glowing horseshoe against the anvil, sparks erupting like miniature fireworks. Another figure mirrored his movements, their hammers just missing each other in a rhythmic dance. The sharp clangs echoed silently in the crowded hall, punctuated only by the projector's steady whir. William could almost smell the hot metal, the sting of sweat.
The scene flickered and ended abruptly. The audience, a smattering of townsfolk, murmured amongst themselves. William, however, remained entranced. He pictured himself as the blacksmith, muscles straining as he transformed fiery iron into something strong and purposeful. He imagined the satisfaction of creating from raw materials, the metal bending to his will, with every swing of the hammer.
Later that week, the image of the blacksmith still burning in his mind, William snuck out to his grandfather's abandoned forge on the outskirts of town. The building was a dusty, forgotten place, but the tools remained – remnants of his grandfather's former life. William picked up a heavy hammer, its wooden handle worn smooth by generations of hands. It felt weighty and foreign in his small grasp, but a spark of determination ignited within him.
He scavenged for scrap metal, heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and fear. After fumbling with the bellows, he coaxed a flicker of life from the cold coals. The task was daunting, but William persevered, fueled by the grainy images from the film and a dream blooming in his chest.
Hours later, sweat-soaked and smudged with soot, William emerged from the forge triumphant. In his hand, he held a crude, misshapen horseshoe – a far cry from the polished perfection in the film, but undeniably his own creation. It wasn't much, but it was the first step on a new path – one ignited by a flickering scene on a white sheet and fueled by his boundless spirit.
The "Blacksmith's Shop" may have been a short, silent film, but for William, it unlocked a world of possibility. It planted a seed of passion that would grow with him, a testament to the power of even the simplest stories to inspire and shape a young life.
