THE WORLD IS MYSTICAL AND MY COFFEE, AN ELIXIR

I get up every morning at 5:30. It's weird, but true. I used to be able to sleep all day, no problem. I was famously impossible to wake. I remember laying in bed before school upstairs at my home in San Jose, long after my old clock radio had been snoozed at least five times, and my mom yelling up that I had to get going. Now, this was early, so there was a little justification. I had a paper route, and I needed to get my ass out of bed, fold my seventy or so papers, load them into my basket attached to the front of my bike, and hit the road. But there I would be, trying to continue to sleep, my mind still at least partially connected to that deep, dark world of sleep that lies at the bottom of the ocean or the vast reaches of outer space or some other dimension that is very warm and thick. And Mom would yell up. And I would reach over the side of my bed and smack the floor with my shoes to make her think I was up and moving. 

Now I wake up before the alarm, on a daily basis. I still feel that connection to Dreamland. But I awake. And the first thing I do is put on a kettle to make a fresh pot of coffee with our French press. It may sound snooty, but as those who know me will attest, I really don't care what people have to say about my coffee habits. So I put the water on, fill of mug of cold coffee from the day before and put it in the microwave, and then sit down to write in my journal.

I find this gives me peace, joy, a sense of self. And reminds me that I am a writer. This is something I think I need to do, as often as possible. Because it is easy to not think that way. To think "I need to do A, B, and C", which are usually the mundane requirements of life like cleaning the house or paying the electricity bill, and still be able to then think "And I need to sit down at the computer for at least an hour and rework that scene, adding in what he writes in the letter to his dead dog".  Whatever A, B, and C  are, day to day, they are of course important. But not as important to me as being me, as expressing myself, writing down whatever I am thinking. I have to say "yes, I am a writer, and I need to let these things loose that are rampaging through my brain". So I write in my journal. Next, I take a long walk with my wife. Today, the sun rose against clouds, and the world was this insane color, first gold then pink then gold again. It was like being in a Maxfield Parrish Painting.

Next, I help Lisa get ready for work, then I write this blog. And that is my morning routine. I recommend it. There is something to be said for doing what makes you happy first thing. Coffee, writing, walking, nature, love, and more writing. That does not suck. I can take most of what the world has to sling at me when I am able to do those simple things.

So. Week two of Return of the Blog, and it feels right. You know how some things just feel right? How, from the moment you start, there is this sense of being where you are supposed to be, doing what you are supposed to be doing? I feel like that with this blog. I don't want to think about it too much beyond that, as over thinking can lead to some really bad writing, some phoney, convoluted poop. I think it was Aristotle who wrote "To over think is to create a lot of bullshit". 

He was wise.

What else? Well, had our first cast meeting for Wizard of Oz last night. Very exciting. I forget how awesome that story is, how bizarre and clean and scary and fantastical. My cast is excellent, and I feel like we are about to take an incredible journey together. Also, in two days, I head to the Austin Film Festival. Which feels to me like going to Disneyland. A whole week, focused on screenwriting and movies. Panels, pitches, parties. As Aristotle also wrote, "Fuck yeah". 

I don't know why I felt compelled to give my daily routine to you all today. Honestly, when I write this blog, I don't prep at all. I just sit down and write whatever pops into my head. Today it was my routine. Tomorrow it might be a treatise on the joys of ascribing foul language to the greats. Who knows? Only The Shadow. 

I think that's it. For the moment. Need more coffee. More music. To go over my pitches for The Belvedere Jungle, American Spirits, Burning the Old Man, and Out of the Past. I have to run errands. You know, A, B, and C.  And then I have rehearsal for Holiday Inn up at StageDoor Theatre in Conifer. That show is going well, and that place is special. Full of energy and magic. In fact, both the Scarecrow and Dorothy in my upcoming Oz are former students from StageDoor. On top of that, a Jitterbug and an Ozonian are former students from the Denver JCC. How cool is that? One of the greatest things about teaching is when your students grow up and start to excel, to work in the field you teach. It's quite amazing. As amazing as the sunlight was this morning, turning the world into a mystical experience.

On that happy note, I shall go forth. 

Here's a song. It's The Jitterbug, a song deleted from the original movie but put back in for the stage performances of The Wizard of Oz. Dance, you maniacs, dance.