My wife leaves for a work trip to Africa tonight. We spent some time hiking the Ridge Trail in Forest Park. It's a thousand plus foot ascent from the debouch of the St. Johns bridge to the top of the mountain. It was foggy at the bottom. The sun began to cut through it about a third of the way up. Shafts of light hundreds of feet long. Trees hundreds of feet tall. Hearts pounding. Silence.
I didn't think about making movies or the movies I've seen lately. I thought of our family and canoes and moving my body. I saw Gran Torino yesterday. Why bring that up? Nothing to say about that film at all. Not sad or angry that I saw it, but I am perplexed as to how it has garnered any favorable reviews or merit for addressing issues of race in America. I saw it on a very big screen, which is always a pleasure. Let's leave it at that.
Today I saw Frost/Nixon. I enjoyed it. I'd see it again and I recommend it. I went to the movies this evening after not working much this afternoon on a screenplay. Today was the day I met with my writing partner to discuss our progress over the past week on our individual projects. I presented my ideas in all their disorganized glory. I found a big hole in my reasoning of the past two months. It seemed like work. I couldn't escape the conclusion that if this seems like work perhaps I would rather be doing some work that provided a salary and benefits. Benefits of health insurance and the act of doing something of benefit to the world.
But thinking too much about the rest of my life is not that great of an idea. I'm going to stick to thoughts of paddling a canoe on the Willamette this spring.