Well, I started a new company, finally finished the website for my film, entered a bunch more film fests, started rewriting a script, wrapped up the indie flick I was telling you about a couple of entries ago, and started working on another one. The new one has a great script, and some solid people working on it, but is also very hectic and I was brought in AFTER they started shooting. Whoo-boy.
I'm tired, pissed off all the time, underpaid and have no shot at a normal life as long as I keep this pace up.
On the other hand, I've been watching the sunrise over Astoria Blvd. a lot lately and it's beautiful. The harvest moon this week was awesome. I've lost some weight (in the past two years I've lost about 40 pounds). And I can feel the beginnings of spring.
Spring days in New York are like perfume. When a certain sea air blows over the city, bringing that tangy salt smell, and people start shedding their parkas, it's just wonderful. Walking down the block, the sun shining down, feeling light as a feather, checking out what everyone looks like now that the layers have come off, bopping to a tune in my head or over the headphones... You want to stop and bottle the experience, savor it like sipping a just-brewed cappucino, but what makes it so special is that it's so ephemeral.
At moments like those we stand on the edge of a new awareness. We see the beauty of the moment, and also know that it can't last forever, that everything changes over time. We're connected to all the similar moments in the past, and can feel a kinship with all the people we were in those moments. But we also know that we're different from those people. We are one and many, here and there, eternal and mortal.
Artists understand this (even if they don't get it consciously), as do those who practice esoteric spirituality. Sex can be like this (well, really good sex anyway). But it's a nice gift from the world when it just drops it into your lap.
Okay. Enough fun. Back to work.