Emily's eyes are bigger than her stomach

I love how ideas come swarming out of my brain like a disturbed nest of mud daubers. I have this short I just finished writing and the short I'm about to direct and the autobiographicalesque feature I just started and the spec pilot I'm rewriting and a historical fiction project I've been working on since I was a fetus and then there's that comedy in the back of my brain that I hope nobody thinks of before I can afford to travel around and do research.

And last night I got a new idea. I was lamenting the fact that most of the actors in my contact list are blue-eyed blonds and that I need a little diversity when a friend suggested I use that. Why not write a script that took advantage of the similarities? A story about brothers, perhaps? Different elements of the same guy's psyche? Boys who get mistaken for each other like the Prince and the Pauper?

Then the ideas start to flow. After I film my shorts maybe I can raise the money to finance a feature. Maybe I can use this, find a way to make it on the cheap, a real movie with a budget and a location other than my living room. I can use somebody else's living room.

I know. My ambition is getting ahead of my capability. That's why I always end up doing thirty things at once; the excitement of the first idea doesn't wear off before I'm on to the next one and I'm plotting and scheming and seeing my future sitting in that folding chair hanging onto a megaphone.

And one day all those old white men on stage at the Academy Awards will move the hell over and let a woman through. I'm going to be the female Paul Haggis, except prettier and with all my hair and without having to write for Walker, Texas Ranger.

Okay, first things first. It starts with the search for a DP for a 12 minute short. Then we'll see.