My first screenplay is looking more and more professional by the day. Brushing up on making myself and my writing look professional is still quite a task since my writing, like me, is eccentric and rumpled but very sincere and well-considered at its core.
Hollywood is a bit like the army in that making yourself presentable for your superiors is one part skill, two parts spit and polish. I imagine that in my WWI life I was probably about as rumpled as I am now and had a hard time of things, but I’ve made up my mind to not let the past suck me into fatalism and determinism. We have a tremendous amount of freedom, you know; more than most people imagine. I just have to get my mind around the idea that I can at least affect refinement even if it isn’t my natural state.
I had a dream that I was buying a condo in SoCal. I hope it bodes well for my future as a screenwriter.
I still haven’t heard anything from Portland State. I have a good feeling about my application but doubts remain. Staying busy with other projects is one of the few reasons I’m not eaten alive by anxiety and depression right now.
My thoughts of past lives have been minimal lately, though they’re always in the background. Its just a fact of life for me now, even when I’m not having painful memories it seems about as natural to say I had past lives as it is to say I had a childhood. But like childhood, it isn’t always foremost in my thoughts. Keeping my depression and anxiety at bay is only one factor.
Other than that, not much is happening in my weird little world. I spent most of the day today just cuddling my cat, sleeping in and taking a break from a rather grueling session of writing almost nonstop for a couple weeks. Then there’s church tomorrow (a special mass in remembrance of the Cathar martyrs of Montsegur) and a lot of church functions I’m going to want to make it to in the coming weeks since Holy Week is considered initiatory. With any luck I’ll be ordained a lay server before too terribly long.