I’m drained. It can take a year to get as far as first draft when writing a screen play. My screenwriter friend and I have reached that far in a week. It is about someone with no self confidence, needing to find someone who would compliment them in a relationship.
Probably the reason first draft has been reached so quickly, is because it almost all draws on personal experience. My only problem is whether the compliment to me, is the right one or not. I know enough, however, that I must trust to time.
Emotions go high, and emotions go low. To feel, is so important; it drives us. Should we pitty those who live out hum drum lives and never feel beyond the tiredness of the morning alarm call to work, or the happy birthday cry of friends … or should we, instead, aspire to their stability?
Is emotion behind art? I think so, or any art that has meaning … or is it that because I am up and down, that only art of like minded people touches me? Questions like these are dangerous. It is the, “what if’s,” that will unwravel our souls to the very core if we let them. Better to feel the strength of our foundations and say, “I know what I like,” and not try to explain it. To stop and smell the roses, enjoy the perfume, but recognise the danger in spending too many heartbeats pondering why the rose is there; why the rose exists … should that time not be better spent enjoying the scent of another bloom?