I am happily reminded of a movie seen some years ago:
Innerspace, starring Dennis Quaid, a fighter pilot on a “miniature” mission inside the body of Martin Short, a nervous recipient.
This movie takes the cake.
And why is this?
Isn’t this supposed to be a trainbarn, where short and sweet kid’s writing is produced? Oh, quite certain we are confident and loving our name.
So…what is with the movie?
All has to do with writing itself.
In Innerspace, Quaid’s character was thrust into a strange-changing world, inside the body of a stranger, observing changes all the time. In his capsule he sat there communicating with the outside world. And from the movie-go perspective; it looked like he was having quite a good time: the little keyboard in front of him, the video screens, one episode of Sam’s “Twistin'” in his living room, while floating in the blood of his new companion. Like writing these days: solitary time. Your video screens. Music. Feet kicked back on the console, while doing pre-flight checks of all your creative systems.
“Oz? Is it all good out there?”
The top Wordkeeper on mission @ remostrainbarn. This is the way it feels. A legacy flowing through time spent creating behind the monitor and off (still can’t shake that pen-to-paper weight ratio, with paper blazing as main creative fuel:)
Behind the controls of one’s own destiny. Floating in a world where everything inspires. Rejection is no longer a powerful tool, designed to keep the best hid in a corner.
There you are.
And here we are. So connected with our themes, sharing vital nutrients in the body of writing, one does
not exist alone.
Inspiration is always in live, open sight. Mere fingertips away. We’re all branched. Tunneled in the core of amazing time.
The exploration through these creative spaces is vastly unlimited.
Take a moment and see how we all are sitting in the theater watching Innerspace.
The Everything Good future is here.
Quaid’s capsule gave him the adventure of a lifetime.
You’ve got the best seat in the house.