Watching a film on a long car ride is not a wise decision (even if it means that you can save time and skip Monday's film class in order to work on a Fredrick Douglas essay). It feels better when I press the base of my palms into my eye sockets while slowly pushing down on my cheekbones.
I glanced at a few of my older posts (specifically yesterday's dimensional one) and started thinking about ideas versus execution. That is not to say that I am unhappy with it. I actually haven't gone back to read many of my posts. It almost seems like what you have in your head is so perfect and so real that any physical form it takes is just some sort of disappointing, pale shadow. The best way to avoid this is to write or draw all of your ideas as they come to you. Let your mind leak out. Don't let them curdle and slinky down your staircase of expectations. It's just a matter of cutting out the middle man, which I suppose in this case would be your memory.
Sometimes I wish the Ed Sullivan show was still the only way I could be introduced to new artists or that telephones stayed in one place or that there wasn't so much everything being circulated everywhere all at once.
Speak easy,
Neil
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