Now that I have completed a first draft of American Primitive, Part Three (formerly Kubris and now back to "Painter"), I have begun to work on the treatments for the other parts as well as a novel or novella version of "Painter." A few involved with film enjoyed it, believe it is film-able (probably art house and european audiences) and said the script read like a novel. So, instead of struggling with a script, I will write the novel.
I am going to Georgia this weekend and will have plenty of time to write, in between a few Guinness stouts, Irish Whiskeys, and cigars.
What is intriguing is how tough on my fictional personae I can be, it's necessary to reflect on the impact of other's actions without casting stones. It's necessary to create a character richer in depth and in feeling than what the average person who doesn't know me may perceive. Not necessarily self-flagellation,
Perhaps, also writing about a future life that might seem a pipe dream, I am also doing some creative visioning for a future I would like to see. Perhaps more importantly, by exorcising demons on paper and on screen (if we ever get there), I can liberate myself to make this a reality and, by acknowledging personal flaws, anticipate them and address them as they arrive.
That is where we are at. I'm painting, writing and screen writing, sketching sets, creating story board by way of paintings (go to www.zhibit.com/fprmclain, to see American Primitive-related pieces).
And the drawings and paintings will be slightly more improved or at least a little more error-free with the new bifocals I dreaded getting.
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2 comments:
"A hard day, a hard life,
Full of darkness and full of strife.
Take a deep breath, ponder a moment,
Heart full of pain, heart full of lament.
The brightest light makes the darkest shadow—
This is something we sadly know.
So young, so bright, spirit so giddy and so light,
But what happens when the inner demons bite?
Joy consumed by sorrow, glee burned up by rage;
The little black monsters have been released from their cage.
They are real—hear them growling?
They are growing—hear them laughing?
Beady eyes watch from inside.
The darkness is difficult to hide.
Grasping claws rip fiercely through
No matter what good we try to do.
Their teeth hurt like a hundred daggers to the skin.
Eventually they will wear everyone too thin.
They are lithe, agile, powerful, and crafty;
The inner demons will soon come to get me.
They will shatter the heart into imperfect pieces
Until the movement of that heart ceases.
Run on, my friend; run as fast as you like.
There is no escaping their deadly spike.
They are a part of you. They are a part of me.
They are a dark and eternal part of humanity.
They are the tempting and seductive voice in the back of our head,
One that fills us with vice and fills us with dread.
We must fight these inner demons before they consume all,
Before they overpower the light and cause humanity to fall.
Though the inner demons claw at the good inside the heart,
We must not let them shred good-will and hope apart.
The inner demons are there to turn us into them.
We must not fear the light—they must not ever win!
So, my friend, goodnight and sweet dreams.
I hope everything is what it seems.
Close your eyes, drift away,
And wait for the shadows to come and play.
The light is out. Hop into bed.
Pull heavy covers above weary head.
Wait for the relief of strife-sweetened dreams.
I hope everything is what it seems.
Goodnight…
Don’t let your inner demons bite."
Anon., I wish I knew who you are, but I appreciate the thought nonetheless.
My romantic side believes in taking the demons and either exorcising them or turning them into assets, through writing/screenwriting, drawing or painting.
Seeing things clearly, accepting the way things are and of course what can and cannot be changed, is also helpful.
Thanks again.
fpr
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