For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

Mark 8:36

The 60k giveaway contest is officially closed. I got about 350 submissions and so many of them really moved me, made me laugh, and made me think. For whatever reason it all made me think of this quote from the Bible. Yes, as godless a heathen that I am, I have read the Bible.

To be faced with so much truth is, in this day of hollow “inspiration” (“What happens next will inspire you! Faith in humanity restored! Please stop it, Upworthy. Please.) is a true breath of fresh air. I’ve read things arcane and dark, passing and seemingly trivial, all to the purpose of understanding what truly is important. To achieve small understandings, to not conform to blanket uniformity, is to preserve one’s soul. Hence the quote.

Quite astonishing, really. I’ve chosen a winner, and will contact you soon.

Thank you all so much for opening up and sharing. I’ve learned a lot from you who were so brave to share.

Onward we go!


I wanted to make mention of a very special project of a dear friend of mine. Jacob Moore, a Chicago and LA-based actor who I had the privilege of directing in our TV pilot last year, has founded and championed one of the finest not-for-profit organizations I’ve come across. The group is called NØSTIGMAS, and is dedicated to suicide prevention and dealing with mental illness. Jacob and I connected over losses to suicide in our lives, and I truly appreciate his drive, his ambition, and the tireless and heartfelt work of the NØSTIGMAS staff. Here’s an amazing speech that Jacob gave about his own life and struggles, it’s heartbreaking and inspiring. I admire his courage so much, please take the time to watch it.

It would be a tremendous favor to me if you went to the NØSTIGMAS tumblr page and followed them. There’s some really amazing stuff going on there, and if you really dig deep into your heart, please donate to the organization. I pledged to Jacob to donate every year in memory of my fallen friends, in hopes that he and his staff can reach out and prevent further tragedies.

Thank you, and have a great weekend.

Giveaway Contest: Celebrating 60k followers!

We reached a great milestone yesterday, as this blog reached 60,000 followers! That’s a lot of folks.

As a show of appreciation for all of your support, I wanted to do a giveaway. I don’t this very often, but I keep my promises and deliver on my word (see here and here).

I though that since so much of this blog is about process and inspiration, so I’ve decided to put together a cool prize to give away.

The Prize: A signed and annotated copy of the FIRST draft of the Lilith screenplay. I think it’s always interesting to see the first iteration of an idea, and the first draft of the Lilith screenplay is a really cool fever dream, full of stuff I never filmed and some really bizarre imagery. I’ll include a signed copy of the film for your reference to see how much has changed.

As a bonus, I’ll throw in pen drive that has ALL of the production dossiers and original temp tracks PLUS the entire original score by dälek. Plus I might throw something else cool in there as well. Maybe some original artwork or production sketches, or a DVD / LP from my own personal collection. Whatever I do it’ll include a personalized letter from me to you, and the subject of which will be determined by…

How to Enter: I want you to write me one sentence. Since the theme of Lilith is loss, I want you to write me one thing you’ve lost that you wish you could have back, or you’re glad is gone. One sentence. Can be funny, sad, twisted or banal, it’s up to you. By 12AM next Thursday, I’ll review the submissions and pick one as the winner. I’ll post the best entries (anonymous, of course), and we can share in the overall impact that I wanted my movie to have, which is to face our demons, make peace with them, and start a new day.

Are you game?

Screenwriting: The Romantic Comedy, Part 3. What is Love?

Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more.

Of course thanks to Haddaway we laugh every time we ask the question, but it truly is an important question, and without delving into it, our efforts to write a romantic comedy script will be futile. In this third installment of the mini-series (part 2 here, and part 1 here), we’ll look at the motivating factors that can drive a romantic comedy.

Here’s a quick test: type the word ‘love’ into the Tumblr search engine and see what comes up. Chances are you’ll get a smattering of gyrating K-Pop idols, sentiments written in old-timey cursive on paper, and lots and lots of people fucking. Is this what love is now?

Having binged on over thirty romcoms these past few weeks, I think we’ve got a very strange conception of what love actually is. There’s a very blurry line in movies and television between wanting to love someone versus wanting to fuck them, and that’s kind of problematic. The endgame of love, in popular media, is getting to fuck someone, and we know that’s just a harlequin romance fantasy. It’s so much more complex than that.

The act of sex is not love, it is an expression of it. It is one of many expressions that can also include things like getting a card, doing the dishes, hanging up your towel, donating to an animal shelter, or simply listening. In mainstream cinema we tend to default to equating sex as love because a) watching people fuck is good for business and marketing, and b) it feeds into our primal instincts and is therefore the fastest route to universality.

This is also love.

But we all know there’s so much more to it, and that the very best romance / romantic comedies know this. I recently watched the Palme D’Or winning film Blue is the Warmest Color and it is one of the freshest, most startling romances I’ve seen in a long time, probably the best since Once. It has very explicit sex scenes but they are just one component of the complexity of the core romance. There is a great dose of pain in the film, the pain of separation, of not getting it right, of possibly losing this person who makes you feel alive, who makes you feel safe, who you can truly be yourself around. I finished watching the film and said “this is a portrait of true, if not tragic, love.”Love is painful.

For a romantic comedy to be truly epic, it must accept this pain, and the source of its humor will arise from that pain. The greatest jokes come from the uncomfortable truths of the human condition, that we’re programmed to do the impressive mating dance and yet we falter, we have flaws, and we hope and pray that the person we’re interested in can see through all of that.

The mating dance - that most awkward of rituals - is the source of the greatest humor. I see it on the street all the time. A male pigeon puffs his chest and prances around a disinterested female, hoping she’ll be impressed. She’s trying to mind her own, and this clown is flexing and preening, making pretty much an ass out of himself. I imagine a bunch of other birds looking at him and feeling sorry for him, and others angling to cash in on his failure. So now my bird friend has two options: amp up his game and make the adjustments to get the girl, or back down and let the other birds swoop in.

Photo by notablackpopstar.

This is the first act of any romantic comedy. We establish the normal world of the hero(ine), their normal way of life, which may include plenty of failure, or loveless sex, or escape from the pursuit of romantic happiness. The end of the first act arrives with the call to action - the object of affection - and the failure of the normal way of doing things. Our hero(ine) is now locked in - if they want the love, then they’re going to have to make some changes to make it happen. End act one.

The second act is where most romcoms fail, in that the core of comedy is found in the failed attempts to get things right with the object of affection. Today’s romcoms revel in humiliation and mean spirited predatory humor on insecurities. Instead, the second act is the very best place for observational humor, humor that brings up absurdity as opposed to humiliation.

In the second act, the hero(ine) works through their playbook, and fails at them all. The realization then arrives that the normal playbook, be it an ace or pathetic one, will not work in this situation. The midpoint comes when the hero(ine) is shown the error of their ways, and it is implied that they will have to make a great change for things to work out. They concoct a new plan, and the end of the second act is when this new plan, fueled by some kind of courage, doesn’t seem to be working. The second act ends with the character on the precipice of absolute failure - not only do they stand to lose the object of affection, but they stand to be in even worse shape than when the movie started.

We’re still playing it safe here, but the third act is where we really have to dig in and understand what being in love is about. In the third act, now having faced almost certain desolation, the hero(ine) must partake in the final, epic battle for their love. This is the Campbellian “slaying of the dragon,” be it a rival suitor, a crippling insecurity (Hugh Grant was / is the king of this in romcoms), or a fear of humiliation. The hero(ine) steps beyond the limitations of their body and becomes an elemental force of love, laying it all out on the line. Exposed heart, willing to lose the world for their love.

We think this is where it all ends, but there is always one last battle, the villain that isn’t really dead, and comes back for one final swipe. This is the moment of true love. It is that moment when our hero(ine) has their worst fear realized, they overcome it, and a new normal is achieved. That new normal is up to you. It may be tragic, in the idea that is always better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all, or it may be victorious, where the new normal is a coexistence with a new partner in crime.

As aforementioned, this is where we have to dig deep and figure out what is love. For us. It’s different for everyone. But there is one universal factor for true love, and this has been proven over and over again throughout the annals of recorded human history, and that is that true love is rooted in compassion. If passion in Latin means to suffer, then compassion means to suffer with. We suffer for the things we care about, and that’s all what the third act is about. It’s taking the proverbial (and sometimes literal) bullet. True love will not come to you, you will have to make a sacrifice for it, and it is the degree of what you’re willing to give up which defines the epic scale of your love. Sometimes the greatest act of love is simply letting go, and that is the core of the tragic romance. You let go with the hope that they will return, that destiny has it written that you be together. The choice, as it is presented in so many romantic comedies, is not between Hot Guy A and Hot Guy B, it is between you and your conscience. What will being with either guy entail you sacrificing? The greater the sacrifice, the deeper the love. It’s as simple as that.

In my research of romcoms I realized that the great romantic comedies are always romances that happen to be funny. It doesn’t work the other way around. Humor in a romantic comedy is born from brute honesty, observations of human behavior when we are at our most vulnerable, and the missteps that the ego makes us take because we’re too afraid of exposing ourselves as crumbling, awkward people. The desire to appear strong - like the puffed up pigeon - is what is required to have sex for procreation, but the need to be vulnerable - which is born through suffering - is what is required for romantic love. The comedy is in the facade of strength, and the romance is in strength of conviction.

I’m not sure if I’ve cracked the romantic comedy but I think this was a pretty good start. It’s definitely completely out of my comfort zone. But I know what I like, and I don’t really like what I see today. In modern romcoms I’m being sold the idea that romantic love is the only answer to loneliness. This is wrong. The only thing that romantic love addresses is the desire to be wooed, to be pursued. True love is seeing beyond that. True love is not finding the person who is right for you, it is that moment when you are truly at peace with yourself.

Let’s write a romantic comedy about that.

The VFX Industry and Boycotting the Oscars.

I will not be watching the Academy Awards tonight. I ultimately support the artists and their right to have their work celebrated, but I also value their right to be paid fairly even more than any kind of statuette.

The VFX industry is in mass crisis. The studios have been abusing the time, ability and remuneration of the industry to their massive gain, and this has to stop. Please take the time to watch the documentary below, it very clearly and succinctly explains the crisis of the industry:

As an act of solidarity, I ask that you boycott the Oscars as well, spread this documentary, and spread the word.

As filmmakers we can make the ultimate difference. When we conceive films, it is up to us as directors and producers to have very clear, precise scripts and plans for our VFX. It is not an area open to improvisation, it is a very specific art form, like production design. Small tweaks can be made, but it must be preconceived and planned out, tested and LOCKED. When we make bids for VFX work, it should be a very precise list of requirements, one that has a small contingency but is ultimately exactly what the film requires. We cannot count on VFX to bail us out when our creativity fails. They are there to help us achieve our visions, and not make them for us. There are limits to what we can ask of them.

Do not approach a VFX company if you don’t have any money. Raise the funds for what you need. In fact don’t do this with any artist. As a producer you cannot abuse artists by asking them to work without any kind of fair compensation. Filmmaking is exhausting creative and physical labor - we don’t ask engineers and doctors to work insane hours without pay. And that unpaid work earns billions of dollars for studios and distributors, most of which the artist does not see.

I’ve long been a proponent of taking a stand and asking for pay. We’ve been made to feel that asking for payment is degrading, especially when we get to work in our passions and “everyone else” is making sacrifices. Everyone else is not making sacrifices - executives are getting paid handsomely, a-list actors are being MASSIVELY overpaid and everyone’s grabbing a piece of the backend pie. If they can get paid, so can we.

At some point we have to just say no to unpaid work. And we all have to do it together, and not be that terrible person who takes unpaid work while the rest of us are sitting it out. If you take unpaid work, you’re being part of the problem, and not the solution. If you must, then WORK FOR COST. Whoever is hiring you should cover your expenses so that when the work is done, you break even. Your sweat and personal expenses should not be paying for some producer’s film, which they will reap money from and you’ll still see nothing. If they say you’re getting experience in return, tell them that experience has never been a form of currency, and that it is never, ever earned through free labor.

They’ll tell you to get a job. Tell them that’s what you’re trying to do, and that what they’re offering is not a job, because a job typically involves an exchange of work for pay. Walk out the door. If they really need your expertise then they will have to find a way to pay you for it.

This is a very, very big problem. I stand in solidarity with the VFX industry and promise to honor their work, their right to pay, and the formation of a union for their craft. I will not watch the Oscars. I wish all the nominees the very best in the rewards they worked hard for, but I cannot in good conscience support an institution that chooses to sweep the VFX industry under the rug, that does not address the pay discrepancies in the industry it profits handsomely from.

Looking for Someone

East India Youth

Total Strife Forever

Played 215 times

Music for the Weekend: Looking for Someone by East India Youth.

Picked this up in France. I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the best records of the year. Stunning.

Have a great weekend.


NOTE: I received an email that the song was removed from this post by Tumblr due to licensing issues. They even said I risk having the blog shut down (!). I guess it’s a domestic / international thing, but either way when the record comes out in the US seek it out, and for readers in the EU/ UK go and get it. It’s a winner.

In the meantime you can listen to the song on the band’s official YouTube page by clicking here:

I just want to promote the band and good music. Plus I bought the record, with my own cash, at an independent record store in Paris (Fargo Records, 11e). I’m not the bad guy here, Tumblr. Thanks.

10 Things About Paris.

Got back late last night from Paris. Feeling rejuvenated and inspired, I could not have asked for a better holiday, it went completely without a hitch and was pretty much perfection.

A week in Paris and I learned much about myself, my host city and her people. As it is my nature to observe, here are ten things I came away with:

1) Parisians are incredibly kind. Somewhere along the line, Parisians got a bad rap as being rude and arrogant. Maybe it’s from a bunch of people traveling to France who become exasperated about not being able to communicate, and the French not making an effort to communicate back with them.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Ever single place we went to, our hosts were welcoming, kind and showed us love and affection. Strangers smiled at us and helped us with directions. Shopkeepers gave us free stuff. Bistro owners gave us free desserts, wine and kisses. At one dinner the owner took 15% off the bill because he liked us.

But here’s the thing, which is that we always made an effort to be kind to our hosts. We always said ‘bonjour’ and ‘merci,’ and we apologized for our rusty language. They seemed to appreciate the effort, which was always heartfelt, and reciprocated tenfold. I’ve yet to have such a lovely experience abroad.

2) Parisians are exceptionally beautiful. It’s not that French women and men are any more attractive than anywhere else, but there’s definitely something in the air. In a reflection of the beaux-arts details of the city itself, the people of Paris make the extra effort and take care of the details. Women artfully wear makeup, just the bare amount to highlight their features. Men are groomed and put together. Style is about wearing basics, but brilliantly and thoughtfully assembled. When people look after the small details and carry themselves with the confidence of that assemblage, then it’s pretty damn near impossible to not be beautiful. The French have that, and then some. They embrace sexiness and charm.

There’s also the beauty of the country’s colonial past, and it’s seen in the faces of the people. Roots of Africa, the Middle East and Asia are found in the melting pot of Parisian faces and bodies. They are striking, and when combined with their style, presence and aforementioned kindness, they became stunning to me.

Photo by Jérémy Barniaud .

3) Parisians are both brutally efficient and selectively inefficient. The Paris Metro is a thing of beauty. We never had to wait more than one minute for a train, and we were able to get around town with supreme ease. Again, small details - thoughtful maps, clean access, rubber tires on the trains for a smooth and quiet ride, it all adds up. And the French pay handsomely for it in higher taxes, but it makes for a very high, if not oppressively expensive, quality of life.

But Parisians know how to slow it down, almost to a grinding halt. Even the simplest of dinners can go for as long as three hours, and shop owners don’t seem to care. Take your time, keep the wine and conversation flowing. The culture is rooted in discourse, and people talk to each other, a lot. They devote time to it, even if it means putting other things aside. Perhaps this is the key to their thoughtfulness, as they talk and listen to one another.

4) Paris has its problems. Of course on holiday it’s hard not to see a place through rose-tinted glasses, and like any other place on Earth, the Parisians are far from perfect. While the city is a gorgeous mix of diversity (see next), like New York City, London and Los Angeles, the real division is economic. The city is cripplingly unaffordable, and has led to massive emigration of the poor to the suburbs, many of which have become ghettos. As wealthy bohemians drive up rent and cost of living, the division of the haves and have-nots is incredibly apparent, and distrust is not a racial divide but rather an economic one. Lifestyle comes at a cost anywhere, but in Paris it is borderline ludicrous. The riots of the past indicate a populace that feels marginalized and forgotten, and despite the aforementioned love of conversation, this seems to be one conversation that the French keep sweeping under the rug.

5) Parisians are diverse. While the economic gap is widening, the racial divide in Paris is small. The city and culture, in contrast to the United States, is incredibly racially homogenous. Television shows feature all races equally (and not like the purely black and white networks in the US) and ad campaigns feature white, black and Asian models and families together. Gay couples walk and display affection without fear, interracial couples are part of the norm. It really highlighted the lack of true diversity in the United States, which may be comprised of many races and orientations, but has not fully coalesced into an accepting whole.

6) Parisians embrace art, and art inspires. Galleries are full of children, windows are always dressed, and people dress and present themselves with artistry. It all serves to inspire one another, and I couldn’t help but have my imagination sparked. As a work environment, Paris provides infinite inspiration, from modern and classic architecture, food, fashion, music, art and design. Art begets art, and creativity thrives in such an environment. Parisians read voraciously, exchange ideas and feed off the city. They ultimately put back in what they take, inspiring the next generation of forward thinking artists. Provocation is encouraged. Technique is admired and honed. Classics are respected and similarly defiled. An early morning trip to the Père-Lachaise cemetery, where the artistic and intellectual giants of Paris are laid to rest, showed me the boundless creativity and innovation that the city fostered. I paid visit to the graves of Marcel Proust, Max Ophuls and the godfather of cinema, Georges Méliès.

Hand on heart, I paid my respects. Without him, we cannot be filmmakers. Photo by my wife.

7) Parisians love. Love is everywhere. People holding hands, kissing, embracing one another. The human body is celebrated, playfully teased and adored. Parisians love to love and be loved, they are playful and kinky, they are sexy and charming. Everything in this town is sensual, a culmination of philosophy and aesthetic. It’s pretty intoxicating.

Photo by Alberto Reyes.

8) Parisians do all the wrong things, and yet they make it right. Chain smoking. Eating butter, bacon, beef, chocolate, bread, cheese and booze nonstop. Eating late, waking up late. And yet they remain thin, healthy and vibrant. Back home we’re obsessed with low-cholesterol, zero fat, PX90, militantly healthy lifestyles and yet we still struggle with obesity and stress. The French just seem to say fuck it, and enjoy what they want. All of those vices are expensive so the French are kind of forced to do it in moderation, which is a good thing. They also eat the very highest quality of food without compromise, GMOs, preservatives or additives. They’re doing something right, and we stand to learn from it.

9) The Parisians are clean, BUT THERE IS DOG SHIT EVERYWHERE. Seriously, it’s like a fucking minefield walking down the sidewalks. Nobody in France picks up after their dogs. I don’t know why. The city is otherwise clean and spotless, but my wife had to always tackle me from stepping in dog doo-doo. Come on, mes amis, do the right thing and pick that shit up.

10) It’s impossible to not fall in love in Paris. It’s because in every cell of their being, the French embrace joie de vivre, and because of that they lead long, reduced stress lives. They enjoy the moment, and keep record of the moments of the past. They make it work, and it’s something to really admire and emulate. Returning to America I have not lost any fondness for my home country, but we can stand to learn a few things from the French. Embrace details, wholesomeness, beauty, diversity and art. We are on this planet for a short time, and we must make it beautiful not only for ourselves but for the inheritors. The French understand this. They maintain their culture, their art, their philosophy and spirit despite the cost and effort required. It is worth it to them, and we are the benefactors of their effort. We could stand to do the same.

Paris je t’aime. Merci mon amour.

Brief Hiatus.

I’m taking a much-needed sabbatical. Wife and I are off to Paris, we’re just going to sit in cafes in the Marais, eat at bistros, read books, write, visit some locations from my favorite Godard and Truffaut films, and just take that long-overdue break. Our last holiday was two years ago, and before that it was our honeymoon, so we’ve pretty much been all work and no play for the past seven years. We’re like the only people on Facebook who don’t post about our fabulous lives because the truth is we’re pretty much working all the time, and nobody wants to know about that.

I’ve been to Paris a couple of times for work and I find that it really invigorates my soul. Perhaps there’s a little bohemian inside of me. There are few cities in the world that have purely dedicated themselves to pure artistry and expression like Paris, and that’s pretty cool.

I went to Paris during my junior year of undergrad for one week. I’d set a goal to do the entire week on a budget of $150, and that included room and board. I somehow managed to do it, subsisting on one sandwich a day and roaming around the city, snapping photographs for entertainment. Met some seedy folk with seedier occupations, and also some really kind people who shared their lives with me (my French is pretty solid). I was feeling lost in more ways than one, and on my final night in Paris, I sat under the Eiffel Tower and wrote a manifesto for the next fifteen years of my life. I placed it in a baggie and buried the letter in a small garden near the far right corner of the Parc du Champ de Mars, and set off on my life.

Many years later I had a flight delayed in Paris and had a 12 hour layover. I took the RER out to the city and looked for my letter. The entire topography of the park had changed, and the corner where I’d buried my letter had a new garden design. I couldn’t find the letter, so I’d assumed it’s been dug up. Maybe someone read it. I don’t know.

I’m pretty sure I had accomplished 40% of the goals I wrote about, and in hindsight that’s actually not too shabby, given the scope of my goals. But it took Paris and her people to inspire that change, so I guess I can honestly say that the city has a very special place in my heart. Perhaps it shall inspire me again, and perhaps I may bury another letter, this time in some place a little less prone to change. How ironic - a letter professing change to be hidden in a place stuck in stasis.

We’ll be back soon. In the meantime, here’s a song for the week, the sounds of an American Cowboy in Paris.

Have a wonderful week. Au revoir et merci.

4th Anniversary of Lilithfilm!

Four years ago, like so many young bloggers on the interwebs, I thought it might be a good idea to share my ideas and experiences as a filmmaker. There were so many young, starting filmmakers like myself out there, so I didn’t figure I’d have much of an audience. Maybe my mom would read the blog every once in awhile, and my wife would favorite my posts anonymously just to make me feel better, because my wife is awesome and she loves me.

I started the blog during pre-production of Lilith and was met with nothing. Fifteen or sixteen posts in and not a single person was reading what I wrote, which was essentially a production diary. There comes that moment in every artist’s life when you realize that you have a lot to say and you don’t have an audience. It’s terrifying, sad, and daunting.

This is where I feel a lot of good and talented people quit the game. I know this because I considered it. The Lilithfilm blog was a huge intellectual demand for me to write, consistently, maybe three to four times a week, and to not have an audience was kind of soul-crushing.

But I enjoyed writing this blog. So I just kept going, and strangely enough people started reading. Rinse and repeat. More interesting things came about. Just kept going. I’ve enjoyed the journey of this blog immensely. I’ve seen zero financial return from the 678 posts I’ve made (with four reblogs, sorry I had to, it was that one girl going “waaay-oh”), but the emotional return has been tremendous. I’ve met some really cool people along the way through this blog, some strange and awkward people, and not a single rude or douchebaggy person (there’s always time).

I’d like to think that it’s because from the very first post of this blog I’ve maintained a policy of brute honesty in documenting the trials and tribulations of being an artist. I try to keep my victories humble and my losses in perspective, and there have been both.

This past year in particular has seen lots of personal hurdles for me, and I felt it appropriate to include them in the blog because they were and remain an important part of my creative life. This blog, and the support of you, my dear audience (now numbering 59,205 and growing every day), helped me tremendously in processing my grief, my emotions, and where I want to go as an artist, as a citizen, as a friend, and as a person. My output last year has been slightly less than years before, but I feel like the quality of my writing has improved greatly.

That’s because through all the death, the loss, the triumphs and the failures, life happened to me a lot last year, and life is what informs the truth and spirit of our work. When I write of death and struggle I can do so with utmost authenticity. When I write of feeling helpless and numb, my words ring hauntingly true. When I find small specks of light in the vast darkness it is a historical account. When I experience love when there seemingly is none, that is a confessional from the bottom of my heart.

I don’t really have a plan as to how long this blog will continue, but as with most things I think it will find its natural end, and I’m fairly sure my ego won’t keep it going longer than its expiry date. As long as I know that people are benefiting from my words, are being entertained by them, enjoy my weekly music selections, and are challenged by my observations, then I see no reason to stop writing. Keep asking me questions, ask me things to think about. I might not get to it right away but I always eventually do. This blog is equally as much for your benefit as it is mine.

1,460 days of writing and it’s been an honor and privilege to be able to share my thoughts and feelings with you. You’ve made it all worth the effort.

Thank you so much.

Your humble director,