Luis the decorator and his sidekick Miguel are here in Malibu. They are painting over the mess the last renter made in the house when she failed to open the flu and filled the house full of acrid smoke. That, my friends, is the great disadvantage to opening your home to renters who are less able or practical.
Luis is a great painter and has a great attention to detail. I like having him around. He has two small daughters that he raises single handedly.
The house stinks of wood filler and oil based primer.
I must admit that I am really enjoying living back here in Malibu. It is a perfect time to be here. The weather is everything one would want it to be. The air is chilled. The sea glistens. It was grand to wake up to the oyster hued sky at 5.30 this morning, the sun rising over the mountains.
The little dog, rather foolishly, ran after a little fox that popped out to greet us.
At breakfast with my Wednesday crew we discussed a couple of great film ideas and it occurred to me that I am ready to make another film. It just depends what. I am thinking about my LA film. I really can’t move on until I have made THAT film THAT LA FILM. The one I promised myself I would make when I arrived here all those years ago. We discussed two great film ideas. I just need to attend to business like it were the subject of my great and enduring love.
Joe, my actor friend, popped by yesterday and we discussed his career. There are two different types of actor is LA. The actors who need repping and those who are essentially repping themselves. My friend Karim repps himself. He networks at Sundance, Berlin and Cannes leaving no stone unturned. He chases new directing talent and doing the do. My friend Joe is less proactive and thinks that everything hinges on finding an agent. Which one do you think gets the jobs?
I have my second meeting with Sean the garden/goat/chicken man today and we will go through his bid carving out the essentials, abandoning the non-essentials until later on this year. I am excited that he will start work as quickly as next week.
As for the great NYC love of my life-I am growing a nasty obsession. How quickly my addict climbs into the driving seat and roars off heading at full pelt into the nearest brick wall. My obsession is as real as a carbuncle and just as hard to remove.
Sex addiction transmutes into love addiction as quickly as I can say I love you.
I love talking to you. I love listening to you. I love you when you are not in a darkened room.
Is there no area in my life that can’t be subject to addiction? I am immediately overwhelmed, subjugated, mesmerized, fantasized, living in somebody else’s skin.