Musings on Mortality

By now, most of you have heard about the film fest win for "Prelude," so I won't say too much more about it, other than that I was impressed by the overall quality of the entries.

This was my fourth Beaver Film Fest, and this year had, by far, the best batch of films yet. Watch them here.

Also, the presentation of the films was quick and streamlined, and the sound and video quality were superb. So kodos to all who were involved.

Those who attended also saw a brief teaser for Doing Anything, which I prepared specifically for the film fest.

It turned out pretty well (it will be available online shortly), but I would rather talk about the preparation of that teaser - specifically the bizarre, morbid thoughts I had while making it.

I was about two thirds done editing the thing, and I was taking a break to see the professor. While I was crossing the street, I couldn't get a series of nagging thoughts out of my mind.

If I got hit by a car right now, how would my teaser turn out? Would people know how to finish it? Have I left enough clues? Would it be dedicated to me? Would my death pretty much mean an automatic win for "Prelude"?

Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I've been having thoughts like that on a regular basis for the past four years, beginning around the time I was storyboarding "The Notebook." But, as I recall, the thinking at that time was practically based. If I die, are these storyboards clear enough to eventually make the movie?

It was a worthwhile question that produced detailed storyboards. But since then, the nature of the question has devolved into reverie at best and paranoia at worst.

Why do I have these death thoughts every time I'm working on a film?

Do they mean something?

Have I become too obsessed with my work?

And when are my iPods going to come?