sitting in one of the satellite wi-fi enabled offices, prepping to knock out a little hard work. but then, "hard" is relative, huh? i've got contracts and invoices, and ideas to make manifest--much better than just turning in from a day chopping cotton or cane in the fields, i know.
everything is relative.
i suppose i write at this moment to jumpstart both my brain and my fingers. i did take the plunge and got a smaller, more updated powerbook. it feels...cool. :-) now i just have to wear this one out.
and wear it out i shall, with all of the things dancing in my head. i have a comprehensive implementation plan for the theatre company, my artistic life, various business endeavors, and an overall timeline that is ambitious, if not down right complicated at times.
but sometimes i fight with myself on what to do first: do i squeeze out the first of about 3 novels that have been conceptualized, outlined, or started? what about the poems (which seem to always find their way onto various and sundry pieces of paper, napkins, etc.; and the essays...oh the essays! and play number...9...yeah, that's a pressing one along with number 10.
then comes the timeline: i definitely have a timeline for play number 9, play number 8's production, and play number 10's rapid development, as well as screenplay number one. if i do those first, then i can get to novel 1, novella 1, and short story 5(?) and essay-i've-lost-count...
day before yesterday, i saw the phenomenal documentary film "Music is My Life, Politics my Mistress," about the life of the late Oscar Brown, Jr. if it comes anywhere near you, SEE IT. that brotha was a trail-blazer: over 1,000 written songs, 500 spoken word/poetry pieces, and 12 plays. cats like that are models for this current generation of people who consider themselves cultural contributors. seeing a film like that basically eroded for me any chance of finding that elusive thing called sleep.
sleep. wow. anybody else out there looking for that mystic, mythical, legendary wraith? it hides from me, poking it's head up at the most inopportune moments, teasing me with a nod here and there, then fleeing when a conscious thought that desires birth shows its determined, dogged face in the room of my consciousness.
has anyone else found peace with this ghost called sleep? it haunts my physical temple from time to time. every now and then i embrace it and let it possess me, wiping away tension and floating off to another plane with my conscious worries in short-term storage.
but i sometimes fear this phantom, sleep. it wants to rob me of my human potential, to block me from fulfilling THE CALL, to stand in the threshold of success and say, "Why not take a walk with me for a while," with a beguiling smile.
i suppose i shall have to live with this spirit; accept it as a living thing that has a right to life--in my life. perhaps, if i let it have it's way from time to time, it will give me enough strength to stand tall and face a better tomorrow.
i can't help but to wonder, though: in a time where so many of our people desire sleep--either mental or physical--as a continuous companion, if those of us who are called to realize the dreams we get when within its grasp when we awaken aren't willing to lose it some, where will our people stand? how will we grow? how will we know?
i go now. i just got some really healthy sprout/cucumber/hummus sandwich that's good for me (translation: "probably tastes like fluffed green dirt but as i'm getting older i have to watch what i eat when i'm starving after 10 pm so that i don't contract the i-tis."). so i'mma eat and then get on this work.
speak on your thoughts.
joc
