You've noticed it, I'm sure. I write about the past. I write lists. I write sprawling pieces about places I've been, songs I've heard, and memories that are likely true. I write in the past tense. I write about the music and the books and the films.
But do I write about who I am right now? Not very often. This blog started out with many entries about a once-promising screenplay (the script eventually devolved when my Havarti-and-ferris-wheel vision was replaced by someone else's Robin Williams ideal.) I wanted to write about a work in progress. I also wrote about my job a lot back then - veiled pieces with obscure references to the habits of my cubicled co-workers. I wrote about walks on the beach and movies on the Promenade. I wrote about the present day.
Now? It's all past tense. Is it because my life is dull? No, it's more exciting than you know. Than you want to know. Is it because my life is in a "holding pattern," clouded by the uncertainty of where to live, whom to live with, what to draw inspiration from? Maybe but that pattern has been holding since 1987. Is it because the only slightly ajar office door has replaced the open cubicle, thus closing me off from the world? Hmm. No. Am I afraid of something? Don't know. Do I think you'll be bored with talk of the present day? Well, if you've gotten this far in the entry, then you're the type who will read my 500 words about a single word in a Liz Phair song. So, you'll read anything.
Six question marks in the previous paragraph and not one definitive conclusion!
Explaining one's behavior is nice and all. But changing the behavior is more important. So, I give you (yes, in list form) The Present Tense List of What's Been on my Mind NOW:
1. I like orange juice now. I dismissed it as overrated for years, instead favoring the esoteric non-orange non-apple juices. But wow it's good. try it cold!
2. I'm saddened by the death of Stanley Kamel. He was great in the role of Monk's psychiatrist Dr. Kroeger. He was a much more reassuring (and realistic) mental health professional than Lorraine Bracco in The Sopranos and Griffin Dunne in In Treatment (latter opinion based entirely on Gabriel Byrne's historic tendency to overact; have not actually seen the show.)
3. I'm content for now to remain in Los Angeles, although it still feels frustratingly temporary. I'm content to live alone, although I want this to change some day.
4. I now understand that the two sentences in #3 truly have nothing to do with each other.
5. I'm still trying to define my aesthetic, my "look." I can't completely let go of the short-sleeved polos, nor will I resist the elastic shoes.
6. I, along with my writing partner, am near completion of the best draft yet of our really damn good script. 114 pages and not a single wasted moment. Now, if we could just agree on the title.
1 comment:
Yay! It is really quite damn good. Except for that annoying middle section, you know, the part with the plot and so forth. And the fact that it has annoyingly blossomed from a taut 114 to an overabundant 123 pages somehow. Let's call this phenomenon, "Rendition Lag." But you are right --- it has those times when it is really quite something.
Somebuddy - I think it was Ernst Lubitsch - said that an excellent movie involves having three great scenes and no bad ones. I think we have at least three mighty good scenes. If we clean up the rest, this sucka is going to be undeniable.
To reiterate my main point: yay!
Post a Comment