You Rely Too Much On Brain. The

The Movie Is Usually, For Me, Something Organic That Grows All The Time. I Sit Home And Write It, And I'm In An Isolated, Four-walled Environment, And I Don't Know What's Going On. I Just Write It, And It's Appearing In My Head In Some Idealized Way Where Every Single Moment Works, And Every Little Thing Is Perfect, Because It's In My Head.

When You Start Putting A Higher Value On Works Of Art Than People, You’re Forfeiting Your Humanity.

You Mellow Too Much You Ripen And Rot.

When You Make The Film, It's Like A Chef Who Works On The Meal. After You're Working All Day In The Kitchen And Dicing And Cutting And Putting The Sauces On, You Don't Want To Eat It. That's How I Always Feel About The Films. I Work On It For A Year. I've Written It, I've Worked With The Actors, I've Edited, Put The Music In. I Just Never Want To See It Again.

I Think It's My Job Or The Artist's Job, To Try And Find Some Solution Or Some Reason To Accept Things. But Given The Grimmest Reality, I Feel The Grimmest Facts Are The Real Facts, The True Facts: That You're Born, You Die, You Suffer, It's To No Purpose, And You're Gone Forever, Ever, Ever, And That's It.