Gateway Drugs and Other Creative Stimulants

Good weekend? Mine was great due to drug induced happiness. I took the wrong pills with the wrong pills to ease a sore back and needless to say I amused my family endlessly on Saturday. I’m fairly sure I saw a giant rabbit at one point. The highlight? Where I asked my housemates to all tell secrets and proceeded to tell five of my own, which apparently aren’t secrets according to the man I live with, instead they were merely my opinions. Damn, they felt like secrets when I was telling them.

Meanwhile, I had my hair coloured back to its original hue. Interesting, that after 25 years of colouring my hair, it took me four painful and long hours with a bad back to have my hair coloured back to what nature gave me. Nature is a bitch I tell ya but it looks amazing now, really so much better. Don’t fuck with nature, she will win in the end.

It may be post drug awareness but I had the feeling this morning about what it was like when I was back in acting school when your best work was always when you gave yourself completely. Not caring about what people think instead just going for it in every way. This is why vain performers don’t last and the ones who are crazy give it their all. You can’t care if you want to honour the craft, whatever that craft is. Painting, writing, acting, making music, dancing, athletics, anything really. You have to give it your all. When I think, no, I can’t have the character do something in my stories, then I know that is exactly what I should do to them. Push it, push the pram off the cliff for fucks sakes.

I don’t profess to be literary, I write for entertainment (mostly my own) telling big stories in sentences that are clear and occasionally clever. What I do try to do, is push my writing, push the ideas and take it to the edge of the cliff when I can. It requires me to leave something of myself behind, the safety belt is off when I write well. Today I am gonna give my all.

Later moonbeams.


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