It’s so many days it seems since I have been inspired or that I haven’t drifted off into a deep needed sleep instead of writing. Just as I was about to forget the power of emotional warfare I awoke from hours of sleep… I was sitting in the need to share, to declare to no one other than myself that I can do this. I can continue to write, if I just got into the ring with myself, and beat my fears ass. I am a solider I faith. Without it I would have given up on fairy tales, dreams and miracles, yet I still believe in them. I still believe in the power of art and the fact that with tears streaming down my puffed up cheeks, and with a complete disregard for the pain that a broken and bruised tooth has been bringing me… i felt inspired. One Tree Hill streaming from my Netflix and like always the depth of the writing causing me to believe that all of Hollywood is NOT gone and tainted… I began to feel something. Yet sleep took me again and then tonight I woke up and I hit the on demand button on the cable remote that so many days since Dexter aired the Finale had been left lonely and abandoned ,I traced a familiar path and found my most favorite TV blasphemous and driven character. Of course Showtime is his home. For Showtime is my cable network hero. I looked until my home grounds were found. Californication.. I never watched the X Files or anything else David Duchovny has ever done but this show is a kick ass blatant and transparent version of addicted truth. An artist is a pained and soulful character that merely has a host. I tuned in and caught up on the recent episodes and peered at the beautiful Megan Goode who in person is just as pretty and even sweeter than she seems. Met her down at the expensive but rightly so Fresh Mex Spot just about a five-minute walk from my house in the home of the Studios. Mr Hank Moody is a loner, deep lover and all in all crass, pot smoking, arrogant ladies man who can write his ass off. His battle within himself is nothing more than his true muse, the creative leech that has been hosting from his vibrant bones of physical anatomy and is a lush wishing for spirits and drugs to alter his state of brooding. The liason of thought and emotion to express and bravery… that is the artistic. To live and love every moment of the day… yourself, your life, your belief, your goal, your family. that is the personal truth I was looking for running from writing. I know exactly what I need and want to be happy. Just because I am not there doesn’t mean it’s not waiting for me….