american beauty
It's 11:07pm and I just got home from a very long, but productive day. I feel terrible, but I've had to turn down a few of my side jobs in order to tie up loose ends before I leave. I hate rushing around before a long trip, especially if I have a lot of stuff to bring. Preparation is the key. An AD once told my friend, "Piss poor preparation, piss poor day". If you don't bring your galoshes, it's going to rain on set. If you forget your cell charger just once, that will be the day you get stranded overnight in a random city. I hate forgetting things and needing them later. Making sure all the bases are covered in advance helps me keep calm and in control.
It's 11:11 as I type this now. It bugs me that this blog calculates in pacific time and if I switch it to East coast it has a 3 hour posting delay. Weird right? So when it appears as if I wrote a blog at 6:57am, it's really 9:57. Time is important to me...perhaps it's because I cannot control it. It is what it is. We can't speed it up or slow it down, we can only choose how to spend it. Trying to use each ticking second to my advantage, I find myself wanting to shell myself up into my hole even more. Like burrowing in my nest is going to help me understand these characters more? I need to get out more, which I did tonight and will be doing a lot very soon. For you build much stronger characters living vicariously through real people.
I'm just trying figure this all out, who these people are and why they are such a part of me. Most of them are fragments of people who have sprinkled through my life, many staples. But some have such darkness and the story is like a long rainy day...I'm beginning to wonder where I got this affection for finding beauty in sadness? I suppose it's because there is truth in real emotion, especially if it's attached to death. To truly mourn someone's loss means you loved them incredibly. For an emotional loss to make you physically ill proves that mind does conquer body. I haven't felt that way in a long time...but then again, I find it much easier to just be numb.
It's 11:11 as I type this now. It bugs me that this blog calculates in pacific time and if I switch it to East coast it has a 3 hour posting delay. Weird right? So when it appears as if I wrote a blog at 6:57am, it's really 9:57. Time is important to me...perhaps it's because I cannot control it. It is what it is. We can't speed it up or slow it down, we can only choose how to spend it. Trying to use each ticking second to my advantage, I find myself wanting to shell myself up into my hole even more. Like burrowing in my nest is going to help me understand these characters more? I need to get out more, which I did tonight and will be doing a lot very soon. For you build much stronger characters living vicariously through real people.
I'm just trying figure this all out, who these people are and why they are such a part of me. Most of them are fragments of people who have sprinkled through my life, many staples. But some have such darkness and the story is like a long rainy day...I'm beginning to wonder where I got this affection for finding beauty in sadness? I suppose it's because there is truth in real emotion, especially if it's attached to death. To truly mourn someone's loss means you loved them incredibly. For an emotional loss to make you physically ill proves that mind does conquer body. I haven't felt that way in a long time...but then again, I find it much easier to just be numb.
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