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Self-destroyers
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______________ Chris Burden Through The Night Softly, 1973 ‘The action of
the poetically and ironically titled Through the Night Softly consisted of
Burden...
2 days ago
Showing posts with label Film Script. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Film Script. Show all posts
Saturday, July 27, 2024
Wednesday, June 3, 2020
June 3, 2020 (In the Year of the Trump Virus)
June 3, 2020 (In the Year of the Trump Virus)
For the past two months, my neighbor's cat has been visiting us regularly. She hangs out by our front door, and I have spent a great deal of time hanging out with the cat on our front steps. I don't allow the cat inside, due to my wife is allergic to cat fur. Still, when I work outside, she comes to the backyard and hangs with me. She craves attention, so I often spend time petting and chatting with her. I haven't had a pet cat or dog since I was a child. I moved around a lot, so I never felt the need to have an animal as a pet. Also, I feel weird about owning an animal. I know having a pet around can make you feel good, but there is something wrong about owning a living creature that bothers me to the core of my being. Saying that now, I'm nervous that the cat is not around anymore. I looked forward to seeing her, and I don't even mind her meowing for an hour. Her sounds are perfume to my senses.
As I write, people are demonstrating in various parts of Los Angeles and the world. Mostly peaceful, and the other day, on my way to my mother's house to drop off some goods, I saw a bunch of kids with their parents doing their version of a march in the neighborhood. Things may move on, but I do feel that there is significant damage to President Virus, and he may not survive this time. I say that, because I sense a mood in the air, and I think people are tired of his lies, lack of character, and just being under the attack of this over-grown spoiled child in a man's body.
Today, I worked on a Philip Guston video talk, which hopefully will take place tomorrow. I'm also working on a film script, and I need to make some significant changes in its structure. I never worked with other people in a writing job, and I'm learning a lot in how to compromise and hopefully make a better script. I feel like F. Scott Fitzgerald or William Faulkner when they were hired by a Hollywood studio to become a scriptwriter. The glamour of such work is a turn-on for me. It's different from working by yourself for a book project or essay.
As of this writing (5 PM ), there are 1,155 new cases of the virus and 46 deaths in Los Angeles County.
For the past two months, my neighbor's cat has been visiting us regularly. She hangs out by our front door, and I have spent a great deal of time hanging out with the cat on our front steps. I don't allow the cat inside, due to my wife is allergic to cat fur. Still, when I work outside, she comes to the backyard and hangs with me. She craves attention, so I often spend time petting and chatting with her. I haven't had a pet cat or dog since I was a child. I moved around a lot, so I never felt the need to have an animal as a pet. Also, I feel weird about owning an animal. I know having a pet around can make you feel good, but there is something wrong about owning a living creature that bothers me to the core of my being. Saying that now, I'm nervous that the cat is not around anymore. I looked forward to seeing her, and I don't even mind her meowing for an hour. Her sounds are perfume to my senses.
As I write, people are demonstrating in various parts of Los Angeles and the world. Mostly peaceful, and the other day, on my way to my mother's house to drop off some goods, I saw a bunch of kids with their parents doing their version of a march in the neighborhood. Things may move on, but I do feel that there is significant damage to President Virus, and he may not survive this time. I say that, because I sense a mood in the air, and I think people are tired of his lies, lack of character, and just being under the attack of this over-grown spoiled child in a man's body.
Today, I worked on a Philip Guston video talk, which hopefully will take place tomorrow. I'm also working on a film script, and I need to make some significant changes in its structure. I never worked with other people in a writing job, and I'm learning a lot in how to compromise and hopefully make a better script. I feel like F. Scott Fitzgerald or William Faulkner when they were hired by a Hollywood studio to become a scriptwriter. The glamour of such work is a turn-on for me. It's different from working by yourself for a book project or essay.
As of this writing (5 PM ), there are 1,155 new cases of the virus and 46 deaths in Los Angeles County.
Saturday, May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 (In The Year of the Trump Virus)
May 2, 2020 (In the Year of the Trump Virus)
I feel a great deal of anger, but in all honesty, anger doesn't suit my character. As I write, I'm in my backyard that looks over Fletcher and Riverside, and it's odd to see the buses running. Are there even people on the buses? Seeing them makes me feel lonely. I'm one of the few in Los Angeles that loves to take the bus. It was one of the spots for me to do my reading and, if enough time, a little nap here and there.
Mother's day is approaching, and of course, there are limited things I can do for mom on this special day. My thoughts on gift-giving are always practical. I was thinking of a subscription to the New Yorker, but she told me she prefers flowers and dark chocolate. Like most of us, she is living within the structure that is her one-bedroom apartment, and she lives alone. I talk to her almost daily but also text her as well. When I call, I rarely have anything new to say to her. I communicate with a great deal of nuances when writing, but a conversation on the phone is not one of my excellent skills in life. It is another part of the brain at work, and I would be comfortable just dictating words on a piece of paper or the screen to chatting, which I'm not that good at. Or am I?
A great deal of my time is spent working on a film script, which also entails research. I wish I could say more about the writing, but now is not the time. It is a paying job for me, and I love that, of course. I imagine myself as being William Faulkner or F. Scott working in the studios. I'm a very romantic chap, and this is the headspace where I do my job.
One thing for sure, I will not leave the house unless it's obtaining food or taking something over to my mom and Uncle. On an emotional level, I kind of understand why people want to gather in crowds or be with others. And of course, being an American, I also appreciate the feeling that one doesn't want to be told what to do. It probably brings back bad memories when people were in elementary school. Therefore they are still acting like children when told that they should stay at home. There are many wars out there, and we have to remain focused and sharp. The lack of concern for others is disturbing. At this moment, I feel the collapse of the system, but there are no plans to replace the sickening Capitalism that is destroying culture, and people's lives. If I live, and I'm pretty sure I will, I'll make a point to look back at these days, and knowing that it was a peak for me in some fashion.
I feel a great deal of anger, but in all honesty, anger doesn't suit my character. As I write, I'm in my backyard that looks over Fletcher and Riverside, and it's odd to see the buses running. Are there even people on the buses? Seeing them makes me feel lonely. I'm one of the few in Los Angeles that loves to take the bus. It was one of the spots for me to do my reading and, if enough time, a little nap here and there.
Mother's day is approaching, and of course, there are limited things I can do for mom on this special day. My thoughts on gift-giving are always practical. I was thinking of a subscription to the New Yorker, but she told me she prefers flowers and dark chocolate. Like most of us, she is living within the structure that is her one-bedroom apartment, and she lives alone. I talk to her almost daily but also text her as well. When I call, I rarely have anything new to say to her. I communicate with a great deal of nuances when writing, but a conversation on the phone is not one of my excellent skills in life. It is another part of the brain at work, and I would be comfortable just dictating words on a piece of paper or the screen to chatting, which I'm not that good at. Or am I?
A great deal of my time is spent working on a film script, which also entails research. I wish I could say more about the writing, but now is not the time. It is a paying job for me, and I love that, of course. I imagine myself as being William Faulkner or F. Scott working in the studios. I'm a very romantic chap, and this is the headspace where I do my job.
One thing for sure, I will not leave the house unless it's obtaining food or taking something over to my mom and Uncle. On an emotional level, I kind of understand why people want to gather in crowds or be with others. And of course, being an American, I also appreciate the feeling that one doesn't want to be told what to do. It probably brings back bad memories when people were in elementary school. Therefore they are still acting like children when told that they should stay at home. There are many wars out there, and we have to remain focused and sharp. The lack of concern for others is disturbing. At this moment, I feel the collapse of the system, but there are no plans to replace the sickening Capitalism that is destroying culture, and people's lives. If I live, and I'm pretty sure I will, I'll make a point to look back at these days, and knowing that it was a peak for me in some fashion.
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