Wednesday, October 13, 2010

burning fuck poem

coffee and pencil - looking over a roof at the trees.

It's hard to say no to an old man who wants you to garden for him. I have a lot of art to do, but I can't turn away from old Tom, who makes us halibut-salad sandwiches and tea for lunch, and never critiques how I work. Most of all, I think the garden help is the only real company he gets most of the time. It keeps him active and thinking, and caring about something. If he didn't have his garden, I don't know what he'd do. All he talks about is his plants and the weather.

I guess it's a matter of keeping a balance. I'd be over at his place 5-6 hours a day if I didn't draw the line.

I can't believe how much easier it is to work on projects that take a few days, rather than a few years. I'm having a good old time designing a CD cover right now.

My film is basically finished except for adding some subtle melody under the existing soundtrack. But my composer / sound designer is booked until late December, so the film is on hold until then. Not a biggie, I'll be keeping busy with plenty of projects anyways. I may even start on my next film...

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