let’s go

I have two speeds in life- frantic and stopped. In Paris, I got my share of both.

The first few days were something out of a Hemingway novel. I’d make coffee, camp out with the ex-pats at a quaint English bookstore, read, write, walk on the riverbank, drink, smoke, discuss the expanding universe and how insignificant life is…

But before long, it was time to shift gears. John and I were determined to make something of our time together, and when we first talked about my visit, he had said four words I can never argue with, “let’s make a movie.”

My Parisian lifestyle made it pretty easy to write the script, but that’s about the only thing that came easy. We had to hold auditions, buy props, borrow lights, not to mention, the script had to be translated (Like I’m not gonna capitalize on my chance to use pretentious French subtitles).

Then, my final two days in France, we had to shoot it… that’s when things really got crazy.

Our director of photography was a friend of John’s who films commercials for a living- a real pro. Just one problem: he barely spoke English. The actors playing the French characters were the same way.

Communication on set was a cluster-fuck buzzing around John-the-translator as everything had to be explained at least twice.

No time for rescheduling; no time for pickups; no time for explaining things twice! We had two days!

It was exhausting, it was frustrating… and it was totally worth it.

Don’t ask me when I’m going to have time to edit yet another movie.

I prefer frantic over stopped.

Maybe that’s why I don’t get along with Hemingway. For me, his stories just amount to a waste of time. Except for one- his very first short story- ‘Up in Michigan.’

Damn… that reminds me…

Next stop: Michigan.