in that warehouse of stored-up ideas one never taps:
pale death.
when we sit to write every day we do just that.
when we aim to and fall short it is that we are doing.
we’ve read more of roberto bolaño than perhaps everyone in this damned country minus a dozen people. write down what we’ve found out.
we’re reading cormac mccarthy and have something secretive to say about it. we love it but we cringe at the politics. dissect this beauty and dissect this romanticized, diminished portrayal of mexico
we have beautiful movies and beautiful photographs inside of us waiting. get them out.
we have a notion of beauty that we’d like to propogate. do so.
this pep talk is beyond all reason.
get to grant writing, get to the page, open up final cut pro and spend time editing. photoshop. we are not to sleep or worry about our health or comfort. we are to race around destroying the world. we are to populate the world with monuments to ourself. produce produce produce!!!
tv – freaks and geeks, buffy the vampire slayer
film – ugetsu, birth, bad doc on photography, angels with dirty faces
books – mccarthy’s border trilogy. on deck – voyage of the beagle
conversation with helen – her divorce, my mom’s obesity, maca’s visa, strategies for expediting the process, conversation strained, uneasy, forced, both of us tired, still somehow sweet
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