I've just worked for 3 hours on a follow up to the totally top secret, not at all guessable project I have going on with Mr Jonathan Hatfull (plug: http://jonathanwriting.blogspot.com/). It may or may not involve creative writing of some sort. It may or may not involve reviving an old project of mine. Anyway, about 2 hours in, I had suitably dissected what I had about two years ago and then it hits me. I don't think I have an imagination anymore. Seriously, ask me to think of a shape, it'd be a circle. Ask me to think of a colour, it'd be grey. Ask me to think of a dinosaur, it'd be the one working on reception at my first job.
There are many things that I don't have a talent for, but why is it that film grabs me so much? Oh Lord knows, this isn't therapy. I'll soldier on regardless. This post is a lot like my doodles though, aimless, no moral.
Exciting things on the horizon for me then: carry on with this writing, starting Berlin Alexanderplatz, sleeping. The rest of the evening will involve dishes and the cleaning of, a bit of light exercise, reading (Vanity Fair, because I'm classy) and sleeping. Don't let me fool you into thinking I sleep lots, I would be able to write a much better blog post had I slept properly.
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Other Musings:
As I've been writing this, I've been eating dinner (fish, chips and beans). I've just realised that I've eaten most of my chips and beans and have left the fish completely untouched. Fail.
Sid Crosby returns on Monday night. I hope he's been taking this time to cultivate a true stunt man's moustache.
I've been rewatching the League of Gentlemen while I exercise recently. Odd, I know. I am so glad the laugh track was reduced between the first and second series. That is one show that, although hilarious, really doesn't suit a laugh track.
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