120 pages

I sat down and wrote 120 pages! six months of sweat on my couch on top of everything else but I got it done. I soldiered through hell and high water. I am gardega, I dont sit in cafe's and smoke and talk about art. I make art. Im in the trenches trying not to take bullets. My script will be made into a movie, all the pieces came together. Just do it. sit down and type, or paint. put things off and you will never get anywhere. I stare into the sun and pray my wax wings dont melt and I wont die alone on the rocks of failure. Pray to god but row away from the rocks, I have spent my whole adult life on the ledge of art, the very edge..not a place for the weak, not an easy home for those who reach for creature comforts. I am a junkie and my drug is art. she is a dangerous mistress but a fine one and she has her moments.

dont be weak!