So “lastic Flowers” has been sent out to two film festivals. Surprise huh? Even more of a surprise is the fact that it’s lined up to go to two more. The odds of getting accepted into a festival, slim. Almost laughably slim, at least that’s what I tell myself. It’s not that I feel my piece is bad or that I feel it doesn’t have a chance; it’s just I like to ground myself in realism. The more hope I put into this film, the harder I will fall if or when it does not meet my basic standards I’d hope to achieve. That is an oddly pessimistic thing for me to say but I feel an emotional distance is needed now. It is no longer a piece of art but an asset that requires being processed as nothing more than a piece of business. That’s all it is now, business.

I do, on the optimistic side, feel that it exceeds or matches the standards of many films that go to film festivals. Everything looks professional; everything is as flawless as I could make it. The piece reeks of an ungodly large amount of work. I am proud of it. I feel the strongest assets to the film are the music and acting talents. Both will carry the film far I hope. And to be completely frank, in the pit of my stomach lays the feeling that the piece will be very successful. I have never felt so confident of anything in my entire life, which is why I don’t want to let the feeling over come me. Rejection is the pinnacle of film making, and I’m ready to gorge an ass load of it. Humble pie baked in the form of four rejection notices.

But why do I do it? Because, if you want to be successful in film, you have to be one thing. Sure you have to be talented, creative, a good firm knowledge of what you are doing. But most of all you have to be off your tits. I mean completely insane. I mean making movies is along the line of making life size pretty pink princess castles out of ice cream and cotton candy. It’s the pursuit of making dreams. I am off the deep end. Not just because I want to make films, but because I know it’s the only thing I will truly ever be good at. I can’t just give up the dream and get a job, climb the ladder, have a wife who has a pile of kids. It’s not for me and I could never accept the life. That my friends, is royally fucked up. To be so dedicated to one over bloated dream of an idea that will NEVER happen is a deep form of insanity. Its like jumping off a building and not thinking twice.