Some truly lovely tape here. Kelly is totally sweet -- I love his opening scene, and there's another bit of wonderful tape from him towards the end. What we have here is a bicycle encased in vaseline, and a teenager who talks about the seat of a fast bike as being his favorite place to pray. Beautiful.

The mom, though, feels superfluous. I'd rather have spent the time getting deeper into Kelly's world. He's such a sweetie, and he somehow doesn't seem to know how appealing and unusual he is, but there's that loneliness -- he can't find a soul to shoot baskets with. What's going on with this kid?

Alternatively, you might go the less-is-more route, use the existing tape of Kelly, and tighten this into a 2-minute piece. Give us something that whirrs past headed down the mountain, and leaves us wanting more.

True confessions: I was lured to this piece by seeing that Gillian Welch is in the mix. So maybe I'm too close to the music to have a valid perspective, but my main quibble with this piece does have to do with the use of music. I often felt distracted from the main story by trying to track the correspondences, and the non-correspondences, between the song and the two characters. (The music levels are also a bit hot.) It may be that the only thing standing in the way of this being an utterly delightful piece is the urge to match the story to the music. Dare to lose it. Try to find the shape of the story that comes from Kelly. You might do better by having the narrative carried along by wild sound, instead of by the song -- you could figure out a way to tape Kelly actually cruising on his bike, then use that as your "traveling music." There's a lot of promise here, and I'd love to hear it fulfilled -- then, maybe, we could hear some Gillian Welch.