As the director was giving notes I was packing up my gear, listening to his, I thought, overarching negativity. I wanted to pipe in and say Hey look, I have abso-fuckin-lootly NO patience for theatre and I wholeheartedly dug it - don't listen to him kids.
I'm not sure of the title. Way of the World might be it. I was, of course, shooting, shooting production stills. What did you think I was doing there, understudying? I whispered, as I clamored over them, That was great, really great. I slunked off to the front door of the converted church/theatre to discover it was locked and I had to reappear from the shadows to exit rear church out into a bracingly cold night. What a scent, all the rotting leaves and moistness in the air made my heart explode with rapturous life. Rapture in the dark. The title of my first romance novel. The ride that I derailed on at Crystal Beach in Ontario. No, that was Laff in the Dark. And that's another story.
Arrived at the photo lab to see Adrian still working working working at printing orders such as mine. Slipped my envelope of film through the slot as I shouted Don't work too hard, a cliche that slipped out before I could catch it. And he replied I don't, that's why I'm still here.
I began my work day at a grand opening of a business, much joviality in the air, much praise for the man who is a Duke grad who will, by golly, make this business the best business in The Land.
I am off to do more work of non-blogly proportions.
Workaholic Love.