I spent most of yesterday fishing for ideas, both for the day job and for a prsonal bullet point for 2015: come up with a brand new feature length screenplay. This later is on top of the theatre thing I've been developing for the past couple of months with a degree of focus, and seemingly forever before that in the "hopelessly noodling" stage.
I haven't tried my hand at feature writing--which I've never felt particularly good at--in a couple of yers now. I think. I think it's been years. Honestly, the whole timeline blurs after I get to Los Angeles. I just know that there are vast tracks of time where I've not had the will to fight.
But there are people I care about who are getting older, like that kind of older. If I'm not going to get the big stuff done for my own sake I feel obligated to get it done for their sake.
Now that's going to strike some of you as the wrong reason to do something. I'd like to congratulate you on your self-suffciency while also asking you to check and see if you're really being honest with youself. It's okay. I'll wait.
Until I do find an idea--and late last night one started to suggest itself and it was naturally super complex in terms of structure, the little fucker--I'm gonna have to be cracking open some buried tombs in the old braincase. So, you know, fair warning.