If You're Open To It, New Orleans

I Got Out My Jar Of Ointment. I Knew Animators Who Had Special Containers For The Ointment. Crockery, Hand-blown Glass, Mystical Symbols Carved Into The Sides. I Used An Old Mason Jar That Had Once Held Grandma Blake's Green Beans. Larry Fished Out A Peanut Butter Jar With The Label Still On It. Extra-crunchy. Yum-yum.

Like Most Creative People I Don't Fit Well Into Boxes.

He Laughed, And It Raised Goose-bumps On My Arms. "oh,ma Petite ,ma Petite , You Are Precious." Just What I Wanted To Hear. "so How Are You Getting Here?" "my Private Jet." Of Course, He Had A Private Jet. "when Can You Be Here?" "i Will Be There As Soon As I Can, My Impatient Flower." "i Prefer Ma Petite To Flower.

When I Was Younger, I'd Wanted Someone To Promise Me That Things Would Work Out And Nothing Bad Would Ever Happen Again. But I Understood Now That That Was A Child's Wish. No One Could Promise That. No One. The Grown-ups Could Try, But They Couldn't Promise, Not And Mean It.

Zerbrowski Said, "try Not. Do. Or Do Not. There Is No Try." It Took Me A Second To Realize That He Had Just Quoted Star Wars To Me. It Made Me Smile, And In That Moment I Loved Him, Just For That.