Sand Is Overrated. It's Just Tiny Little

I'm In My Mind A Lot. I Live There.

Every Day Of Your Life, You Have Information That Enters Your Head, And That Information Informs Your Understanding Of Things, Or Shifts It, Or Changes It, Or Deepens It, Or Confuses You. Every Day, Every Moment Of Every Day - It's Like This Thing That Happens.

There Are Too Many Ideas And Things And People. Too Many Directions To Go. I Was Starting To Believe The Reason It Matters To Care Passionately About Something, Is That It Whittles The World Down To A More Manageable Size.

I Think Of Myself As A Guy Who Tries To Write Screenplays And Now Has Tried To Direct One. Anything More Than That Is Meaningless And It Gets In The Way Of Being A Real Human Being.

If I Were Doing Somebody Else's Script Or I Adapted A Book By Philip Roth, On Set There Could Be A Million Different Interpretations Of The Material And People Could Argue With Me. Certainly On Synecdoche, New York We Had Discussions And Arguments, But I Felt Like I Had Authority Because I'm A Writer.