It Came From Memphis

I just got an email from someone I’m working with, not on ICFM but on another and very major project. It read, “I like your blog.” This freaked me out very slightly, as I’ve never made any attempt to publicise this site – quite the opposite. None of the people I’m working with know about it, and I’m almost dreading the day they do find out that I’ve been blogging this whole story. So why do I continue?

I’ve been doing this (‘this’ being film/TV) long enough to know that the process is long-drawn-out and frustrating. Blogging it both records the highs and lows of it for the merely curious or for those fools who aspire to film production. It also allows me to feel that all this time is not being wasted – “There it is, there’s a record of our efforts for all to see.” And when the film is made it will be a valuable reminder of the work it took to do it, so that next time some idea for a music documentary strikes me, I’ll think twice before attempting to put it into production. This is the third music doc I’ve attempted to make – the other two, on Gram Parsons (back in 1991 when nobody seemed too interested in the Cosmic Cowboy – these days I’m bored silly hearing about him) and Harry Partch, both foundered on the rocks of indifference. One out of three isn’t really enough to make it a worthwhile occupation. It certainly won’t pay my bar bills.

Speaking of which, I just this second took delivery of an absinthe fountain and two bottles of absinthe from La Feé. They are kindly sponsoring the short I’m doing with Sebastian this weekend. All I had to do was ask. This is why I got into filmmaking, really – that, and the women, of course. But enough - this isn’t that kind of website.

Now that I know that people I know are reading this I'm starting to get anal about my grammar and punctuation. Blogging anonymously would be a far better way to go, but it's a bit late for that...