HEY! HAPPY FRIDAY! It has been a week!

Firstly, some good news in feature film land! As you may or may not know I have been on the hunt for a producing partner for my film and though I cannot yet say that I have found that person, I feel like I have made some progress! One of the “reach” producers that I sent the script to responded with some fantastic feedback and said they were “excited to talk about it more.” This obviously could lead to nothing but at the least, it was a great little nugget of validation. Will keep you posted! I also have a couple of meetings with other producers set up for next week, so things are starting to feel more possible!

This all brings me to my current biggest fear…not being able to make this movie (/see that place/do that thing) before the world ends in a fiery nuclear death. If you’ve been paying attention to the news you know it’s been turbulent, to say the least…


FATE DUST // 8.11.17

The world is ending this week,

I’m sure of it.

(Said every generation in their prime.)

Imminent death is always


A shadow, filling out.


Next week?

In 5 minutes.

Got to make them count.

But why?

Our fate is space dust,

If we’re lucky.

Stars, sparkling in the velvet sky.


We won’t want to rub our cheek against it.

We won’t have a cheek to rub…

So, what’s the point

Of struggling?

Trading precious moments for money?

Flash sale,

Everything must go…

I wanted to be a star, once.

I cried when I couldn’t be.

Now, all I want to do is live.


I started a new gig this week. A really cool one! I’m having fun with it and feeling good about the work I’m doing. All these good things happening, yet earlier this week I had a major panic attack…like uncontrollably sobbing. I couldn’t stop, all the usual things that help me didn’t. Once I was finally able to catch my breath (and blow out some snot so I could breathe…) I realized how much I wanted to be alive and how with the threat of nuclear war, climate change, terrorism (this, that, and the other thing). My mortality has never been more clear in my mind. The idea of “the world ending” had never felt so imminent and in that moment I had convinced myself that that was definitely happening, like, this week.

I have struggled in the past with figuring out “the point” of life. In the scheme of things, we are all so tiny and insignificant, especially when I start thinking about space that just thinking about it would paralyze me. What’s the point if we’re all going to be space dust, anyway? Despite getting lost in those dark “comfortably numb” thoughts I guess the concept still felt abstract to me.

Honestly, now that I’m reflecting on it I think maybe the point of life is living. Everyone creates their own worth because without life, death is pointless. But the fact that death is the only thing guaranteed makes living life beautiful, the struggles included. I’m not sure if everyone would agree with me (in the scheme of things I’ve been very lucky with the life I have) but from now on, every time I start to question “what’s the point” I’m going to remind myself how sweet it is to be alive.

This maybe seems obvious to some of you enlightened people and it will take work for me to remember but in this moment it gives me hope for as much (or little) life I have left on this Earth.


Thanks for letting me ramble…


[you are not alone]