Words, words, words

I've spent the last several days immersed in stories of one form or another, reading, writing, watching films and shows. It seems all I do at the moment, although truly it isn't. I had a lovely luncheon with my friends from Spectrum from back in the day on Saturday, an enjoyable time at the book club meeting yesterday afternoon, and lunch today with Keesha, Apryl, and Josh, and it was nice to be relaxed with them, and last night dinner and conversation with Dad, and yesterday morning, church. Yet, despite all that, I feel very isolated. Maybe it is because my heart is away. I don't generally feel so lonely for him, but he was working before this and so the time apart seems longer. Beyond this though, today for some reason I am just wondering, what am I really doing? What is this all for anyway? Does any of this matter? And in fact, it feels like it doesn't. I needed to write this just to have some time to my own thoughts for a moment, unsullied by the ever impeding stories. Too many stories, not nearly enough ideas, for the moment. Although I have been listening to the Federalist Papers a bit the past few days. I need my mind fed with thoughts and ideas I need some time to process a bit of what I've experienced and to assimilate all these experiences somehow, analyze and understand them better. I spent time analyzing the Vampire Tapestry and I felt like I gained some greater understanding of human nature and the world from it. It was a useful endeavor. Let me take a moment to reflect on the rest of the media I've devoured in the past few days. There is the Warrior. A deeply sad story of a broken family at odds, and finding some final reconciliation. It struck a deep chord of sadness in me in the value of family love. Then there was Salmon Fishing in the Yemen, which was ultimately a weak story. Not particularly profound or original. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which was not as good as I was anticipating it to be, but it had its odd humorous and tragic moments, and there is no doubt that the final scene is one of the more disturbing and lasting sequences in film I have seen. Earlier today I watched the Iron Lady. Made me think more of politics, of course. What an interesting character, and how well Meryl Streep portrays people so that she not only embodies a persona, but makes them very human and relatable. She has a real gift for making her characters accessible. Then there is Hell on Wheels, which is shaping into a fascinating story and by the end of the season I really did not want it to end. I was thoroughly hooked, and Boardwalk Empire, which as the second season began, I was really wondering if they were going to keep the subtlety and excellence of the storytelling that they had in the first season, but by the end of the first episode the subtleties of the relationships of the characters were shown on a pitch perfect note and the story is progressing well. I would like to strive for the excellence in scene choices of my characters as they have in theirs. It's a mark of truly excellent storytelling, but then how to convey that same depth in my story. That is the key isn't it? Because what good are the stories if they do not resonate an element of truth to the viewer or the reader, and that is what I am hoping for with my story. To reach that level of truth with my story. Let's see, what else, ah yes, the beautiful The Red Shoes, such a very sad (if melodramatic) story, akin to Black Swan in many ways, only more personable and tragic, and what rich and lush dreamy imagery, what imagination in filmmaking and beauty of art in that film. Truly a fantastic film. One of the best I have seen this year and certainly warrants repeated viewings, so very sad, but beautiful. I love works of art and beauty like that, which touch your soul with their symbolism and creativity. There is something about art that make it transcend words and ideas, and it connects with your psyche and emotions directly. I would like to make something like that. I would like to write such beautiful scenes that would inspire such phenomenal beauty in a film. In fact, I would love to film something like that. I guess I didn't realize when I began this diatribe that THAT is what it is all for. I was sitting here contemplating God's great plan, wondering what all the design is for, as I sometimes do, and considering why I waste my time with so many of the things that I do when I don't think that God really finds merit in them. He wants us to be fishermen of men's souls, so then why do we persist in spending our time with stories and ideas? Why do we concern ourselves so much with worldly things, but then, God himself has communicated his will through the lives of men, and the stories of their lives, so the importance of stories and words, words, words, is there, it is valid, and ideas are as well, they are another way that he has communicated his will and amongst that is symbolism and greater depth, allegory and understanding, all this comes from such stories, but we must seek true stories and try and learn from them, and we must not let stories keep us from doing God's works, as well. I try to love and be a part of this world, but sometimes I feel as Irv did in the Vampire Tapestry, that the demands of being at the center of a social world fatigue the human soul, and yet, this makes no sense, as I am quite happily occupied in the company of those I love and am interested in. I enjoy their company, their love, and their laughter, and am very happily engaged in their company, and yet I shrink from it. I fear it. I feel at somewhat of a loss in it. Like I don't know what to share or what to say unless alcohol can calm my nerves. I feel a physical barrier and perhaps a social one? In most cases at least. People seldomly share the truth of who they are with their loved ones. There are very few who truly know my soul. Tyson is one, although I am not certain he understands it completely, and yet he is truly my other half. Kelly, Nick, Kristi, Justin, they understand me best. Perhaps Jesse, although we are like strangers in many ways now. Josh, Aaron, they understand the greater part of me, although not always my struggles, but it is hard to share with even them. All the rest of the world is often strangers to who I really am. My family know some of the pieces, but they don't know my heart, all except perhaps Toni and Josh. Of all my family, they understand and love me best, as I love them. I wish that I could share myself freely and have people really know me and have there be an ease of love and sharing of souls between us, but there just isn't for me. It is a struggle for me to connect these days and I always have and still seem to do it so much better in print. Perhaps that will change someday. Perhaps I will come to a time and a place when I no longer fear or worry about what to say to strangers or what to do, but that seems like an unlikely prospect at the moment. Ah well, as a life in print goes, mine is not so terribly bad.

Musing on Writing or Preparation for Battle

Staring at a blank page is often a challenge, and yet, here I am again. It seems a long time since I've been here. I've been keeping the creativity at bay, putting other things in higher priority for some time now, and that really has to stop. Time to let things flow again. I've been reading a lot of writings from a friend who is far away and he writes and inspires with his writing, and that is certainly saying something. As I read his works, I start to itch. I wish that I was more naturally poetic or that I was focusing my energy more on words, and so here I am again.

Winter is coming.

Not just to quote Game of Thrones, but to renew my energies, for once I am glad it is coming. I am looking forward to days stuck inside with books and writing. It stretches ahead of me like an oasis, and yet I still dread the coming darkness, despite how good it will ultimately be for my soul. The darkness and isolation should help me to keep my focus in the coming months. I am anxious to review my previous thoughts and writings and continue with my novel and the work on my screenplay. I've promised myself 2000 words daily, and that seems a very reasonable goal. This page will be a primer in the beginning, a place to get the words flowing before delving into the stories, and perhaps to explore themes and ideas more in depth as I consider where I am going with these grand visions I have. What will it be first? The vampire capitalist? Lost Lilith? The forgotten angels? Or the automatic pipe organ maker myth? Or perhaps the tales of the Greek Gods in the Caribbean? So many stories waiting to be told, they are overflowing in my head. I'm anxious to give one life, but I want their lives to have purpose and meaning.

I think the vampire is where I really must begin, don't you? It's a long time coming. And I must work on the others a bit here and there as well, but the vampire really deserves a true beginning to his long life. My dear Dorian. Time to give expression to your ideals and time to have them come crashing down when faced with the energies of others. I know your soul my Dear Dorian, but your idealistic view of capitalism has manifested in ways that you could never have predicted. Your life was a sad one, your existence since has been even sadder. What will you do when you see the flaws that others see in you? Can you convince them of your ultimate righteousness? Perhaps. Heaven knows you WILL try Dear Dorian, and I will be with you the entire way. So let us begin....