"This stuff will kill you, but it's loaded with fun!" - The Cramps "Bikini Girls With Machine Guns"
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Sometimes I'm blown away by the duality within myself that I ignored; and how in my spurning of it, how much of myself I lost.
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I met Helen, and old friend of my aunt's on 23rd and 7th today. She started her own production company a couple decades ago and is now a damn successful producer. Sitting in the Starbucks waiting for her I have to admit that I was expecting someone a little more straight-laced than the woman who showed up. With a head of curly blonde hair and the kinetic energy of a coiled spring Helen seemed fun and far less stuck up than a lot of the other producers I'd met so far. We talked shop, I told her about what I wanted to do with my life, told her that I "couldn't not write" which is a mess of double negatives but just flows so well that I can't resist it.
At the end of our little pow-wow Helen had pretty much promised to call me in a few weeks when some more work came up, gave me a bunch of numbers out of her blackberry for casting people and said she might be able to hook up some freelance writing for me. All good things.
I may just make this crazy idea of mine work. I want to be like Jarmusch, Tarantino, and Lynch. (Not in personality, just in the whole "writer, director, producer" thing) I'm a control freak, I know that. But I've got to learn to be a charming one or I'm never gonna make it. I know all this stuff is just a game, and it's one where they don't tell you the rules. But I think that just maybe I'm beginning to figure it out.
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