That is not necessarily a bad thing--just that it's easy to forget that you have a life there. Simple things. The people who are, when the geographic is applicable, of importance--friends, fellow drinkers, ex-girlfriends and lovers, neighbors, annoying office mates, Mickey from the Ear and George from Pao and even that rat bastard crumbsucker Stefan. And Nora--let's not get into that bungled procedural. In a way I can't totally nail down, they remain as abstract memories triggered from characters in films you see late in Santa Marta that bare only the slightest resemblances in appearance or demeanor. to the figures in the faded Iphotos.
But on films and memories, and straying from post-Xanex musings, a film that I worked on in the not too distant past and that is without a doubt more of a moving picture in my mind was just accepted to competition at Sundance. To boot, it was written, co-written, and directed by two of my favorite people in the world--Mike Cahill and Brit Marling.
Mike and I have been conspiring and collaborating since our first days of University, and Brit, Mike and I for an almost equal amount of time. We've traversed the Go-Go clubs of DC; the depths of Central Havana when Mike became convinced that he was allergic to his mattress in Vedado; and been asked to leave some of the posher bars and clubs in nyc for trying to swing from chandeliers.
It's been over ten years of working together and I'm proud more than anything to have an imprint, however small, on ANOTHER EARTH and to have helped in my own small way to shepherd it to the most prominent festival in the United States.
I'm exhausted. But these pictures aren't.
Weirdly enough I can't find anymore of Cahill. I suppose would be lousy as an archivist.
