Don't Get Excited

I shan't be posting daily again simply because the Aviary moved to a bright, shiny, new platform. My boss is on vacation, and it's the end of the week, and I'm running out of initiative, and interest in background music, and sometimes putting ideas out there helps keep my brain in better order. (As opposed to, say, trolling through Facebook / Tumblr / Twitter / stupid, stupid Buzzfeed / etc. ....)

I'd like to make... 

A comic play about a team of superheroes who suddenly become trapped in their fortress after their powers have disappeared, and how they cope with not having the powers that had become their crutches.

A play-gym for our cat Anton, who is not the world's surest jumper. It would be like a cat Habitrail. It may or may not be in the shape of Dr. Evil's island lair.

A few million dollars. No - pounds sterling. Better idea. 

A family crest.

That booty (yes: that one there) shake. 

A novel about an underground, animalic Urreligion that has been mistaken over centuries for shamanism and superstition, but actually represents a deeper understanding of human evolution than current science can. I may or may not have written a few dozen thousand words on this subject to date...

The ultimate frittata.

A collapsible-yet-weight-bearing reconstruction of the arrangement of support bars on the newer NYC subway trains, using commonly available plumbing piping. For use in a circus-theatre piece.

A monkey outfit for my daughter, with a robotic, prehensile tail. This costume would ideally lead her into becoming a fantastic parkour vigilante later in life.

You cry out for more. 

A clown solo piece, set to Leonard Cohen's Take This Waltz , about a man who falls in love with a magazine cover and goes through all the stages of an ultimately failed relationship with it. 

Two  people realize they have been in love with one another for some time.

A few things perfectly clear. 

A combination photography and silent web-video series about a clown navigating New York City.

Music.

A salon, with a moveable stage, rigged for circus and including a bar/café.

Lightsabers. 

A noir film in homage to the gritty, 70s New York movies (French Connection, Taking of Pelham 1-2-3).

The perfect shoulder bag. The perfect earbuds. The perfect umbrella.

A little hay. 

A largely comic play about our ongoing, day-to-day relationship with the reality of death. I may or may not have written a few drafts of this to date... 

A full semester's course of study focused on physical comedy traditions, training and innovation. Maybe a year's worth.

A pair of tattoo designs featuring ravens for placement on either my shoulders or pectorals.

People watching a play cry. 

A few adjustments to right-wing thinking.

A house for my family that has several unconventional modes of vertical transgression and comportment. 

Some noise.

A musical Arlecchino show, in which the "Arlecchino" character is a Depression-era, itinerant blues musician. It would be comic but melancholy, and entitled "The Unfortunate Rake."

A "space comedy," entitled ALIEN PARANOIA. 

A powerful impact on the Furry community. 

Several tiny vignettes depicting instances of Catholic martyrdom, which I then install in various secret locations in and around our public transit system. 

Another baby. 

A circus show entitled: Apparatus. The emphasis would be of course upon acts that require equipment (stilts, trapeze, ladder, etc.). Bizarre apparatus would be invented specifically for the show. 

Sense. (Sometimes.)

An app that game-ifies little quests to communicate with other players by leaving amusing or touching hand-written notes hidden in public locations. 

It a requirement that if you visit our apartment, you must participate in singing at least one choral round for the gratification of our child.

A case for cutting one's own hair. 

Some "mix tapes." Titles in mind: Save You; Collateral Damage; Bang/Whimper.

Facebook disappear.

An Oscar and an Emmy kiss like Barbies. 

A comicbook about two super-powered young women who learn to feel compelled to help others, but never become interested in fame, or being perceived as superheroes.

A television show that's semi-improvised and filmed in front of a live audience, but also serialized, with recurring characters. Developed, intensely written, with long story arcs.

A tree-house. A really great tree-house.

A what-not-to-do textbook for people fresh off their completed B(F)As.

A garden.

A puzzle box.  A lamp. Hell: An ashtray.

A list of things I could be doing, rather than working on a draft strategic plan. 

You excited.