Just a quick hello, to let you know what's going on, not that there's anything out of the ordinary to report. The same components to my life as usual: work, fatigue and film-making. The Keith fatigue syndrome has been gradually returning over the last two months, unfortunately. I'm trying to ignore it, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. It makes me very irritable, not to mention angry, at times; I feel that I "deserve" to feel full of energy, on account of my healthy lifestyle. What's particularly dissapointing is that I'd thought, or at least hoped, that I'd licked this problem by my change in diet earlier this year.

Work has actually been less boring recently, although still not particularly fulfilling. There has been a lot of running around in our office, trying to get potential customers to sign on the dotted line. At one time, last week, I was juggling work on four different projects like this. At this point, not a single one of them has yet come to fruition.

A couple of weeks ago, I told you that I'd shot some 16mm film at Fisherman's Wharf. Well, I got it back from the lab on Monday and showed it for the first time at my class on Monday evening, fearing the worst. It was no masterpiece, by any means, but I was blown away by the compelling richness of film in comparison to video. It's the first footage I've ever shot on film, and there's a texture to it - a magic - that is completely missing in video. It converted me there and then, and now I'm determined to reshoot my short movie ("A San Francisco Waltz") on film in time to submit it to next year's San Francisco Gay and Lesbian Film Festival.

I must say that I've once more been giving some consideration to the idea of ending this web site, or at least curtailing my activity radically. One reason is that the economy means that few people are buying membership; but the main reason is that I'm beginning to wonder if I can keep this page alive and vital while simultaneously pursuing my interest in film. Haven't yet reached a decision. However, I don't expect to be closing the page any time soon.

This weekend, I allowed myself some play time, like I promised myself in my last journal entry. On Saturday, I met an artist acquaintance for brunch. He's somebody I'm only just starting to get to know, although our paths have crossed a few times over the last year or so. I admit guilt to an over-admiration for artists in general, but, in his case, the admiration includes a liking for both his personality and his intellect. After brunch, he suggested that we go over to Dolores Park and sit in the sun for a while. I was on the verge of saying no, remembering all the little projects I'd hoped to accomplish over the weekend, when I also remembered that journal entry about not allowing myself play-time. So I went along, and enjoyed just lounging around for a while, until, in typical San Francisco style, the warm sun gave way to a chilly wind.

In the evening, I joined another artist friend of mine to go to a dance performance. I met him over at his apartment (which I dote upon - it's the most beautiful apartment I've ever seen), along with his boyfriend, and we drove over to Berkeley (thus breaking my promise to my sister that I wouldn't use the terrorist-threatened Bay Bridge this week). The performance was called "The Car Man (an Auto-Erotic Thriller)", directed by the same man, Matthew Bourne, who directed the all-male Swan Lake a couple of years ago. Imagine West Side Story, but set at a Deep South gas station instead, and with less clothes. The usual Berkeley audience of grey-haird hippies was diluted by the presence of hundreds of salt-and-pepper beards from the Castro, who enjoyed the nude shower scene and the prison rape. I mostly enjoyed the music - a completely reorchestrated Bizet's Carmen. Afterwards, we went out for a great dinner at a place called Downtown - gentrification comes to Berkeley finally.