There’s an enduring, emotional expanse in standing between the soil and the stars. It is, though, for the most part a wondrous place to be. I’ve loved movies all my life, that’s not breaking news or anything innovative, sure. But I have. The cinema screens often seem so big your natural urge to reach out and touch it are pushed aside by the movie’s firm grasp of you already. I love to watch movies. That gulf between the stars and the soil has seldom slipped from my imagination or realistic ambitions. It has felt closer and further away at all manner of moments in my little life.
Of late, as my film life revolves around trying to bring my own brand of pleasure to the world of entertainment through my written work on the blog, I appear to be on a 7-day long hiatus. I have started to get my feet stuck in the mud. That mud may well set before long, so I need to get active again as soon as possible. This is not just my actual feet I am talking about, but my creative juices that perhaps need stirring. No, I know they do. I have it in me I know it, but there’s a drought. Having been out of all action due to illness for 4 days (including my precious weekend), my physical bones and artistic vision have both suffered. Certainly on the mend now, those doubts of success, that progress of dream-chasing, that striving to better myself in the art of ekphrasis if you like, have been floating around a while. This is nothing new, you see. We all fear failure, right? And some days it drifts closer than others, right?
My dreams seem far away sometimes. I have had dreams of making movies, like hundreds of thousands of others, and as an adult actually writing the movies. Wow, do I miss screenwriting. The website has taken over most other elements of my film life, screenwriting has gone on hold for a good few months to cater for this. No contests entered, no scenes written, no dialogue altered, not even Final Draft has been opened since before the summer. That’s a big deal, believe me. A huge sacrifice. And I know sacrifices are what we make on the long journey to success. But this was a conscious process and decision, one which ought to benefit me in the long run. And other such clichés.
I have dreams, as the film social calendar is right now, of attending festivals, of writing first-hand accounts of the movies, of interviewing the makers and movers, reporting back to the world to people like me. I know and socialize with many of these journalists, bloggers, advocates, lovers-of-movies, but I have no backstage pass or production packs or premier tickets or party invites. I am not there yet. In fact, I don’t know how far away I am. The stars look so far when you look up at them from the mud. I have no access to “seeing movies before anyone else”, and I am not interested in a race or bragging rights, I just want to be part of that prestige. I want to see the movies tonight, now, yesterday. Sometimes following the coverage just does not cut the mustard – I want to lick the whole damn jar.
Anyway, please put your violins away, even that smallest one in the world playing just for me, I crave no sympathy, but rather feel the need to express my current abstract dilemma. Some encouragement perhaps. Creativity is a peculiar thing, if you don’t have it, or should I say, if you struggle to be creative, it can be a real source of frustration. Hell, I require it by the bucket-loads to survive let alone succeed in this business. Even this very written piece is now losing any gusto it perhaps once had. I feel sluggish and achy, as though I am climbing a mountain I have no destiny to reach the peak of.
What I basically need then is to pull myself out of this sticky soil and reach for the stars. My pen is my shovel, and I need to write my out of this rut. This very humble piece of expressionism is an attempt at this, for sure. The real zest though does not come from word count or reader response or high traffic. It really should be, pure and simple, about seeing the movies. That should trump everything else. And it does. We have the very same notion with the Oscar race and awards season, but that is for another series of ongoing discussions.
Well, would you look at that, I’m writing. Feel better already. Regroup. My supportive, brilliant wife just informed me of super-cheap cinema tickets for kids showings – Inside Out is still running here, and my daughter still has not been to the movies. Perfect. The emotion I feel now, is excitement. So right now, my very best therapy from the artistic slump might well be the movies. Of course. The counselor’s chair is the theater seat. Three please. I love watching the movies. And star-gazing is far more creative when you take off your muddy shoes.