Monday, May 02, 2016

SNATCHING DEFEAT FROM THE JAWS OF VICTORY


I feel somewhat human again.

The indolent parts of my brain are still reveling in the gear slippage, while more intricate thoughts try and force the machine to fire.

On the grand scale, however, the very existence of the above sentence shows I'm at least partially restored.

And as the whirlwind turns to a breeze, when Kansas is once again in full focus, I can advise that a weary traveler is left with exactly two souvenirs: memories and a burning question.

'What next?'


You can't help but ask. It's the symptom of having had a travelling experience that either evolves or crystalises something within you. Home, meanwhile, is staid. Resolute. Unchanged.

This tension, between personal growth and usual habitat, leads to wanderlust. To chase the short-term thrill. Poke the adrenal glands until they kick.

It's a valid strategy, I suppose. Plenty of people exist vacation to vacation.

But then why this undercurrent of doubt?

'What next?' hisses your lizard brain.

'I just got home from a 500 audience screening at a film festival in New York' you plead, 'Can't I gather my thoughts?'

No. Pile it on. Larger. Faster....

Never satiated. Always hungry for the endorphin burst....

The doubt niggles. Keep busy. Fill the time until the next, next, next...

STOP!

The more you feed the reptile, the hungrier it gets.

Pause.

Breathe.

Career momentum is a real thing, I'll grant you. There is a reason that 'heat creates heat' has become a showbusiness cliche (as well as the most blatantly obvious scientific observation on Earth).

The truth, however, is that most film related events are not reservoirs of forward inertia. A sophisticated way to meet like-minded people and share trench stories, indeed, but certainly not a project boon.

No, the surgical fact is that the real generator of momentum is the time you spend away from parties.

I know, it stimulates you to be at a film festival. A morsel of perceived success. It's like coming home to your own foreign land, where people suddenly understand both you and your passions. An addictive feeling.

But that's the point. The red carpet tornado is a Siren's call, if you allow it to take hold. Like all of life's sweet vices, moderation is the key.

And always remember, a soiree may be sustenance for the soul, but projects live or die on their creative foundations. Bolstered by the work you do behind closed doors: the script polish; the treatment refinement; the finance planning.

'What's next?' the hungry voice howls at you.

Obscurity. Toil.

Until...

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