On Fumes to the Old Coast

Back in New Jersey for a week. Trying to sort out my brain. Divide into keep, sell, and trash. Put up peg boards. Fold winter clothes into rubbermade. I've been getting a low in LA. Emptied. Starved for encouragement. To keep writing.

I met with Caroline on Saturday. Got trapped in my apartment for an extra hour or two when the garage gate broke my way. And I'm right there with the pun.

She says she's in for the Misplaced Planet Partnership. Says she's interested in both Cusp of Aquarius and Ladies and Gentlemen, but until her midnight calls begin waking me with ideas, I can't help feeling on my own in here.

Thursday, I'll be meeting with her, Shaun, Benni, Zak, and Stirling... I can't even figure out what I'm going to say... How was it that I used to make these things happen? What is there to say? I want to make movies. I want to stop getting shot down. I want to care wildly about something. To do it, I need some energy in return, because I'm emptied.

I'll tell about the daunting duties that face me when I return to LA.

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