The quintessential tale of squelched inspiration, stolen dreams, ugly people, immaturity, dance halls and attention leaches. I forgot to add the movie Marty to my list of favorite movies. After a long day of shooting today and then subsequently ruining the film because of a dumb mistake in the darkroom, I settled down to Channel 13 for a favorite old flick called Marty. I was inspired. I was inspired because I have a reader. Thank you reader. Thanks for the comment.
"That Mickey Spillane can sure write"
Everybody needs to find a few 'tomatas'.
It is incredible how more often than not my sails billow as though in a vacuum after someone close poo-poos an idea about which I am enthusiastic. How is it that I can feel so strongly about something I'd like to do but roll up like a pill-bug at the first nay sayer's campaign on leveling. The closest to me are usually the greatest obstacles. Isn't that always the way...
Do yourself a favor and watch Marty when you get a chance. It's an old movie with Ernest Borgnine. He's ugly and fat and painfully honest. He, like myself, came equipped with chameleon demeanor and is greatly affected by those around him. It's a bittersweet movie about one who triumphs against all odds. No, it's not like Chariots of Fire. It's like Moonstruck, minus the humor.
Oh, and now that I know that it is possible to upload images to this blog thing, I will start doing so. I'm an Internet dolt when it comes to this sort of stuff. Should any of my shots from today be viewable, I'll certainly post one or two. I think my 6x12 stuff should come out okay.
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