Good visit

Had a very nice visit with the couple now living in what was Shaw's house in the 80s. The basement bar and office, however, are significantly smaller than I remember. Have I grown that much ha ha?

Driving home, the day finally finally sunny after morning grayness, I reminded myself how blessed I am and how much I love what I'm doing, making these little digital movies for the internet, even if only interviews with writers, but especially something more creative -- and a new project will happen in fall, I'm sure -- I wouldn't want to change a thing.

Then someone suggested I start a screenwriters' group and I almost threw out my back from laughing so hard. Why o why o why on earth would I fuck up a good thing, doing my thing, to do something like that, which inherently is full of social politics, aesthetic oneupmanship, marketing stress, and all manner of distractions from the Good Life I have today, a marketplace of one, doing my thing, great great fun, and nobody, not a single solitary soul, intervening between me and the good work, which has a home, which means existence, and so what about the rest? If it ain't broke, don't fix it.