Resting

 One day, for a fact, my luck with the gods will run out. Not soon, I hope. But it's inevitable. Indeed they have granted me time far beyond what I've earned by my lifestyle, especially in my younger wilder days. When I'm well into a project, I ask the gods for the time to finish it. As now. I add the time to teach another year; I seem to enjoy teaching more, the older I get. I suppose it's because I actually have something to offer. I have a stronger sense of this in the classroom than in my art, where the audience is invisible and appreciation, or its opposite, unmeasured (since I seldom do commercial ventures where money is the measure). But then I am the primary audience in my art, which is not the case in the classroom. There, there are students who need to know, for their own possible success, a few things I've found out about reality in the world of screenwriting. The audience is clear. In my art, I am the primary audience and one hopes to pick up a few with compatible tastes along the way.

And I'm very excited about the film thus far. Fewer problems than I expected and so far I've been able to solve the problems that arise. Major challenges still ahead, of course, but soon enough I'll know what I have and whether I can call this project a success.

The throat tingles with the threat of illness. My Achilles heel. I am taking steps to head off the bad guys at the pass.