So… there’s this thing about working Freelance, or what I would like to call being terribly underemployed.  It gives you time and perspective.  Time to work or finish projects that have otherwise gone undone, untouched, or ignored (and no other excuses to continue pushing them back into the corner).  Perspective on what your life used to be like in the Monday thru Friday (and sometimes Saturday) hustle and bustle of the work time blues… and perhaps what a leisurely life you lead whilst receiving a paycheck every two weeks.  Yeah, Chuck… you know what I’m talking about.  Montana is for suckers.  Now, I’ve been working since I was a young lad of 15. So… almost constantly employed for 20 years.  That’s a long murfing time.  Saying that aloud at parties also give you perspective.  I had a meet and greet recently.  I had mentioned to someone that I’d been working constantly for 20 years.  
The following is based on a true story:
“What?  How old are you?”
“I’m Thirty-Four,” I replied with a wince.
“Oh, well when you say you’ve been doing something for 20 years, it makes you sound really old,” she added with mild confusion, “I mean, I’ve been working in media for 7 years now.”
“I am really old.  I’ve been working for 20 years. I started working in television when I was 18…. Fuck.”
Yeah.  Perspective sometimes has a way of wrapping tight around your testicles and squeezing.  So, with this time off there has also been a great deal of WTF frustration.  I had some naive idea that it wouldn’t be “that hard” for me to find some kind of employment once I arrived here.  Granted, in San Francisco it took me 3 days to find employment.  I simply jumped from one news station in Memphis to another in San Francisco.  I was working freelance in that scenario… but it was usually 4 to 5 days of work a week.  One week, they cut it down to ONE.  I immediately took other employment and stayed there for 4 years.  So, having all of this time at first was a breath of fresh air.  Now, I’m not finding the humor in it anymore.
I finished my short film, THE THAUMATURGE, and began the festival submission process.  It’s time to lay it on the table and prepare to have it smashed into little pieces again.  It’s my heart I’m referring to there, not…. you know, get your mind out of the gutter.  The festival circuit is a love/hate relationship.  It’s thrilling when they include you in the festival – showcase your film and hard work.  It’s a heart-wrenching break-up letter when they don’t.  You begin to wonder, what’s wrong with me?  Why don’t they love me?  What could I have done differently.  Then you grow up and realize that the bitch wasn’t worth it anyway… she just took your money and used you.  Like I said, love/hate.
The film will hopefully be playing in festivals toward the end of this year and beginning of 2012… before the world falls apart and we all die.  At least you’ll get to see my little short film.  Once that’s done, and if the internet still exists after the earthquakes and solar flares, I’ll post it online to share with all of you that didn’t go see it at their hometown film festival.  I mean, those things are for hipsters and their tattoo’d girlfriends anyway.  Stay tuned.  Maybe sometime soon I’ll have more to share.  Or go to hell… it’s not me, it’s you.