Puppetcancer

I wonder if the characters from my favorite cancelled t.v. shows or RPG campaigns ever look up into their skies and have this sense that the stars over their heads went black, that the book cover was closed for the last time, that their existence was entombed and forgotten in a box underneath the stairs? Or put another way… Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5 “Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

I rented Iron Mask (2019). If its title doesn't ring a bell, Iron Mask is the American title of the adventure/fantasy movie where Arnold Schwarzenegger is dressed as a British redcoat while warning Jackie Chan that no one escapes the Tower of London. It might not win Oscars, but it's happy with what it is. Is Iron Mask for everybody? Nope. (Some people still dislike Star Wars.) Iron Mask is hard to classify, but it reminded me of a mix among: Around the World in 80 Days, Big Trouble in Little China, Detective Dee, The Princess Bride, Dungeons and Dragons: Honor of Thieves, and Xena: Warrior Princess. Note: while my own political views regarding Putin and Xi might ordinary detract from a film which was made in Russia and The People's Republic of China, I DO think this movie deserves more love. All politics aside, I like Iron Mask. (It was also filmed in the Czech Republic, which is one of the few countries in the world that still seems to not hate my country. Thank you, Czech

It could be the harsher-than-usual winter weather which is sabotaging my artistic productivity in recent weeks, but I've had a frustrating type of art block where I ironically do know what I want to create. I'm inspired by someone whose work I admire, but I don't have the skills or the gear to do what that artist does. When I have time off to sit down and work on the art project I have in mind, it just ends up being busywork where all I get out of it is a reminder that I will never get anywhere close to the level of the artist whose work inspires me. It's like I'm firing a gun with no bullets. "Oh, look! That shot would have been a bullseye if I actually had bullets. Or a gun." (Then you didn't actually get a bullseye, did you?) There's this frustration where every time I'm driving or walking somewhere through the snow, I'm thinking about the art project, but when I sat down to work on it, it was a waste of everyone's time. I hate that.