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She Gave Away My Good Luck

When I was in Bangkok, a week or so ago, I picked up this painting. The gallery owner, after packaging it for me, handed me this little elephant key chain trinket type of thing. She said, “Thank you,” and, “This will bring you good luck.” Okay…  Now, I’ve never been one of those people that was into that type of talisman stuff, but I appreciated the gesture. I didn’t think too much about it.
 
Back home, my lady was collecting the gifts to give to her sister and her sister’s kids today, and I guess she decided to throw that keychain into the pot. I didn’t know about it until after it was done. But, in asking, it was gone. Did she give away my good luck?
 
Late into the late night of tonight, I was awoken from my sleep from this noise going on outside. It was a fight between two guys, and two girls, I guess??? I could hear the fists hitting the skin and one of the girls screaming. Neighbors were yelling, “Go home, assholes!” But, no cops came onto the scene. It seems the street and street activities always haunt and find me, even though I have long run away from them. Plus, I live in a very, (for lack of a better term), relatively exclusive community. Yet, there it was…
 
Earlier today, someone told me of some on-line rant that was going on about me, my filmmaking process, and my films. I never pay attention to that kind of stuff. Like I, and most other actual filmmakers say to the critics, “What movies have you made?” But, before I dozed off on the couch tonight, as I often tend to do, I pulled up a couple of my films on YouTube, just to give them a moment or two of a viewing. And yeah, they are okay. Thirty years deep and they are still a-okay. I suppose the critics still talking about movies I made on a zero budget twenty or thirty years ago and incorrectly describing my mindset, process, and technique of filmmaking is somehow casting me to infamy. I guess I could say, "Thank you.” But mostly, I think, "Fuck you! Why don't you try getting it right.” Anyway…
 
So, this all fades into life. The life of the happening. I remember growing up in the ghetto, there was crime, fighting, and violence around me all the time. I remember living in Hollywood, when the sounds of the street and the police helicopters would wake me up most nights of the week. I hated that noise! Now, all these decades later, I still hear the punch in the face and the girl screaming about her boyfriend and people who have never made a film talking shit about my movies. I don’t know??? Did my lady give my good luck away today or is this just the reality of the reality? …A world where people have nothing better to do than becoming lost in what they are feeling, leading to a punch in the face, talking shit about a craft that they have no concept about how to actually create, and waking up a neighborhood simply because they have nothing better to do than to scream about relationships and feelings that matter to one else but the people screaming?
 
I guess I need to go back to Bangkok. I’m always happier there anyway. I guess I need to go and pickup another painting and maybe the seller will give me another elephant keychain that promises good luck.