July 28th, 2002


One more step towards the end of the pier...

So I was up at the UNGODLY hour of 8 this morning after a wonderful night with quislibet and J.

Trekked myself to Harvard Square to the screening of the New York Film Academy's short films from their 4 week course at Harvard. It was QUITE entertaining, and some of them were REALLY good. Followed that up with a meeting with the director of the NYFA film I've been cast in.

Oh yea, didn't I mention that? Next Friday and Saturday I'm doing the huge long film shoot days for a short film. One of my students got me involved with it, and I'm playing opposite him. It should be a WHOLE lot of fun. Neat story. I get to be all emotional and stuff. :)

So in just randomly talking to her, she mentioned the fact that she wants to start a film production company here in Boston. For those that don't know, the Mass Film Office just closed. We're now the only state in the union without a Film Office, I believe. That means there's no government agency trying to entice movies to come here and film anymore, which is really going to quash the film community that's here, I think.

Anyway, listening to Michelle talk, I found myself getting dragged closer and closer towards the end of the pier of security. Found myself wanting to jump off the end, into the unknown depths of creativity and insecurity. Found myself wanting more than what I'm doing now. More than Real Estate crap work.

Aht, as we say in Boston. I want Aht. To live it, breathe it, and bring it to life.

"Life is short and the art long."--Hippocrates
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From my mom:

Yesterday was one of the toughest days of my life. Jefferson had a appointment with the vet and I knew deep down in the pit of my stomach he would not be returning home. I always had hope that the nagging sore leg would be better one morning.

A bone biopsy had proven negative several months ago. Arthritis meds seemed to help his limp. He had many good days and then a bad. He remained faithful and greeted both Paul and I every day that we came home from work. He would walk right by my side out to the dried up pond no matter how hot it was. He licked and played with the grandkids.

He began to make beds out of anything he could find. All old the dog beds, bedspreads, throw rugs, my pajamas from under my pillow, then the pillows, were all carefully shredded in a comfortable mess. He had been loosing weight, it was noticeable. Chicken, steak, pork chops - whatever he would try was prepared with hopes he would begin eating better.

He never really complained until a about two weeks ago. Little moans when he would get up or lie down. It was almost like a habit he got into to let us know he was in the room with us.

His happy greetings turned to just greetings. His eyes , although bright, showed that he hurt. He didn't need to suffer and I know he was.

He needed another chance to be free..... It was a hard decision, the vet confirmed and comforted me .... It was time for Jefferson to go...

Jefferson is one of two retired racing Greyhounds that my parents adopted. He was a really neat dog, and I'm sad that I won't get to see him again. Everyone should be so lucky to have such a pet as part of their family.

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