In this moment I’m tempted to believe there really IS such a thing as too much of a good thing. I’m back at my beloved Detroit Airport awaiting leg 2 of my journey to the U.K. I shouldn’t be jetlagged this early into the trip, but a jam-packed few days in rockin’ Michiana will do that to a girl. Now I’m having an out-of-body experience of sorts – so hard to believe I’m headed back to Whitby. Somehow it’s even harder to believe that for the first time since I can remember I have 2 hours ahead of me to do whatever I please. It’s been so long, I forget what people do with down-time. Blog, I guess.
I almost wish I had a 20-hour layover. This peace is divine, a comfy leather lounge chair, and nobody to answer to. Hibernation sounds so liberating about now. I keep waiting for things to calm down and they simply haven’t. I guess this is a good thing – to have one’s work in demand and opportunities for more, but it’s also a bit disconcerting. I’ve noticed a trend among my filmmaker friends who seem equally busy these days. We are so busy with the business end of things, it’s often hard to find time for pure creation – art for the sake of art – no deadlines, just inspiration, doing it for the sheer love of it 0 the reason we all got mired into all of this madness in the first place. My idea folder is overflowing with concepts I’d like to undertake, but I wonder if I’ll ever be able to pull them out and play without so many other obligations looming over me.
It’s too bad an artist can’t simply be an artist anymore. How fun it would be not to have to take meetings, negotiate deals, meet other people’s deadlines and live up to their expectations. How fun it would be to just create all the time. Do Peggy Guggenheims still exist? On my friend Steph’s recommendation I’m reading Twyla Tharp’s fabulous book “The Creative Habit” which is the perfect follow up to Patti Smith’s “Just Kids” which was recommended to me by Prom’s producer, another wonderful Stephanie. Both books are proving to be important reminders of why we creative types do what we do, live how we live. I had a similar experience reading “I, Fellini” several years back.
I’m off to a wonderful place to meet with wonderful people and see wonderful sights. And I will no doubt have a wonderful time. But right now there is something to be said for this comfy leather chair in a silent room. I’ll be back next week with an account of “The Bram Stoker Fest II – Return to Whitby.” But for now, I must sink deeper into the sanctuary of this wonderful cushion. Have a great week, Everybody!