So, I tweaked the movie version of "Scars" yet again, adding a few lines to the end. It's hard to believe I'm still finding stuff I want to add. It's making me care less and less about doing a book version where Gamble lives. This version is just what I want.
Still, I need to stick to my plan and at least try.
I was highly influenced by an amazing documentary I saw last night called "A Certain Kind of Death" that chronicled what happens to the hundreds of people who die unclaimed in Los Angeles every year. I was so struck by it, I had to add a paragraph that referenced it. I even went to the L.A. Coroner website and glanced through some of photos of the unclaimed dead.
Who knows how we'll end up someday? Will there be dozens of people who mourn us and divide up our things and keep them lovingly as keepsakes?
Or will our meager possessions be auctioned off by lot to a flea market and the few hundred dollars raised be used to pay for our cremations?
Does it really matter?
We always thought our dad would have been so pleased at how many people attended his service. It always seemed to mean so much to him for some reason. Would Mom and Dad have cared that they ended up in vases sitting over the T.V. in our living room?
Guess not or they would have made some arrangements of some sort . . .
Anyway, my fascination for death in its many incarnations continues.
But I didn't get struck by lightening today, even though I predicted it and did end up getting caught in a thunder storm!
Two more days of pain. And now we might have to deal with some sort of legal action against our tent company that will require us to strike their equipment and store it until the courts decide who it legally belongs to. We're already incurring a bunch more legal fees just to deal with the issue.
I can't imagine what could happen next to make things even harder, but I have a feeling there's probably something.
I helped do the jurying of the artists today, and it took hours. But I love adding sums. It's something I never lose the ability to do, just like grade school and all those math contests I took. It's second nature for me. I have more confidence in my ability to add the whole thing myself and figure out all the different winners in their respective mediums than in the intricate Excel spreadsheet that the chairman and his friend designed to do just that. The woman who worked the computer spent hours checking every cell, and she still took the comp sheet home to double re-check the figures.
So what was the point of the fancy system? I have to smile to myself . . .
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder, You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger, May you never take one single breath for granted, God forbid love ever leave you empty handed, I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean, Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens, Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance, and when you get the chance to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance!
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance, Never settle for the path of least resistance, Living might mean taking chances, but they're worth taking, Loving might be a mistake, but it's worth making, Don't let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter, When you come close to selling out, reconsider, Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance, And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance!