Backyards, overhead flights, blackberries

I am alive. I moved into a new place, a few doors down. I'm now in a concrete floored basement with a backyard. It's pretty much the nicest apartment I've ever lived in. It's ludicrously beautiful. The backyard changes everything about living in NY, too. I now have a private expanse as there are no real alleyways in this city. At night I get to retreat to the little hush that rises off of grass instead of sodium lights and stoops.

For some reason it felt right, then, to change it up a bit. I'm holing up to write for a few months. I've written a ton of treatments for videos, all of them rejected to be honest. I'm starting to feel that being a video director is akin to being the guy in high school who all the girls want to be friends with. Substitute band for girl. I will continue to write treatments, and make myself available should the opportunity arise.

I'm reading a book about sea turtles, I fell utterly in love with the writing of David Mitchell (I blurb on his book Cloud Atlas in a tiny little thing in the most recent issue of Giant Robot). Haven't been watching so much. Made some great new friends.

I'm off to LA next week for Martin Wong's wedding.

I got a blackberry. Not only is that bad for me, it's bad for everyone I know. Yeah, sure, you can email me anywhere I am from now on. But that also means I can email you back. My hypergraphia is untethered now.