Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Sometimes seeds can grow in winter.
This year Portland has had its own fair share of snow. Some of the plants out in the yard made it through. Some look like they’ve given up. And still others look like they’ve been liquefied by alien gunfire.
I took losing the script as a sign. Of what, I’m not exactly sure. But sometimes roadblocks lead to new directions. So I just sat back and watched big white usher in a quiet not found any other way. I let ideas grow—not so much on the page, as in my bones.
Some ideas made it through, others I’m giving up. And the aliens took their fair share. But what remains is what should remain.
Act two is starting to take shape.