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Saturday, July 24, 2004

LFS End of Term Screening

Ah, the LFS end of term screening. I like to go to every one. I'm always hoping to find a good DoP there. This year, the best DoP was...Patrick Jackson for Jules' film. I was really proud of him. Jules told him to go to the party to get his ass kissed, as he certainly deserved it. E & Y were the only ones who kissed his ass.

The other reason we go is for the food. Again, I stuffed myself. The only meal of the day, but what a good one. I got sick later for stuffing myself. There is an old lady that goes to the after party every year. She must be in her 70s. She's always a bit scruffy, and she piles her plate up with food. I don't know where it all goes as she's bone thin. I was standing next to her in the food queue, and I thought to myself "That's me in 40 years." Scrounging for food at the LFS end of term party. Hell, that's me now.

Spent most of the week working on the website. I'm hoping to use it as a tool to raise the rest of the cash to finish the film. The frustrating thing is that I know I have the film--a beautiful, wonderful film. But, it's amongst the 450 hours of tapes I've got sitting on my bookcase. And, the reality is that, without the money, the film will remain within those tapes. Oooo, a bit morose today.

I've been logging as well. As I sit in my darkened room and watch the rushes, I am hit by this overwhelming desire to return. I miss the smells, the food, the neon. But, most of all, I miss the cowboys. Patrick says this is normal. I write to them, thinking this will quench my desire. They write back, tell me what they are up to. This only makes it worse. I realize that the time I spent shooting this film was my happiest time in Tokyo. Those memories have successfully wiped out all of the negativity that I left Japan with--7 years of perceived bad luck gone in an instant! And there is a larger lesson to be learned. Our lives are just a collection of memories. All of this bullshit about living in the present...there is no present. There is only memory. And, if this film represents a collection of honest memories of Patrick and me and the cowboys, will that be good enough to achieve greatness?