Infinity and beyond...

You might remember that I mentioned Neil Platt and his blog about his and his family's experiences with Motor Neurone Disease before. It's a fascinating, moving, sometimes heart-breaking and rather witty account of someone dealing with MND.

Neil talked about the stuff that a lot of us don't want to, or can't... in fact he started his blog to raise awareness of MND and the fight to find a cure. He certainly accomplished that, and then some.

I'll leave the last word to him (he said it better than I ever could), in a quote I have borrowed from his last ever post on the blog, "the thing about the blog is that it seems to have made many people, previously untouched and unaware of the disease, take stock of their own lives in order to grasp every opportunity that lands in their lap (if there is an opportunity that lands in someone else’s lap then go see if they’ll do you a swap) Just don’t miss any."

Go on, get that 'thing' done, you know the one.... that one you've been avoiding, the one you've been pretending doesn't really matter. or can wait a while longer. Maybe it can't.

At the front

On the writing front, in the midst of another short which is a dark, sexy, part contemporary, part-Victorian love story with a twist. About to start work on an adapted screenplay from a scottish novel I love, and am wading through a proper first draft of a feature I started last year - it has potential but the tone is all over the place.

The short I'm making, has had the pre-greenlight regarding script, so now just to get a good team together and get it made... yeah 'just'... exciting though!

The Victorian comes from this place:

Perhaps there will be a thunderbolt of calling,
a something impressive that can’t be denied,
because if it isn’t so then it may just quietly slip disappeared into the background where we let it die until we’re breathing our last and we once again wish to recall the fury and burst of that feeling,
that impressive flash of hot and woozy sense, that instant radiating trumpet-call,
that messy disorganised throbbing and beating,
that love, that lust, the undisciplised, uncontrollable thrust from deep down hidden right there beneath the veneer of respectability that coats us,
but chip it away and we’re all seeking that warm, wet place of corruption and satisfaction.
We are meant to be joined, so they say, but gingerly and in an ordered fashion.
My body doesn’t work that way, it’s not programmed to listen to the confines you utter.
It’s following the beat of a heart and the pull of your blood-noise.
It will follow as long as your nerves crack and skin glows.
I will follow and see you out until the last breath.
You are corruptible.
I am unstoppable.

What a Feeling : Robert Webb does Flashdance

This is oh so wrong, but yet oh so right - funnier than it has a right to be. I bow to you Robert Webb. He has fantastic legs!

Snow!