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Friday, August 26, 2005

The Blank Pages in My Dictionary

Was walking through the forest with Patrick yesterday and we got on to the idea of letters/postcards for the voice over...the narrator voice over. We talked about post cards during the 2nd trip to Tokyo, and I've had it in the back of my mind, but I brought this idea to the forefront. I think I'm being influenced by "The Oxford Book of Letters," which is one of the books we have with us. It's funny how your subconscious will give you some big hints sometimes. Of all the books in Joe's library, I chose that one when we visited him for my birthday. I don't know why I chose it, it just called out to me.

Anyway...I haven't figured out the "voice" yet. Of course, it's the storyteller's voice, but I haven't figured out who that character is. Yes, it's me, but it's a fictionalized me...oh, you know what I mean.

Who is she writing to? (To whom is she writing?) In Sans Soleil, it's the receiver who is describing the letters. That's a bit different from actually reading the letters. But maybe this idea of writing to different people. And those are all the different voices. I was toying with the idea of using very different voices with different accents...male, female, young old. Maybe they are people who have left Japan...people the storyteller once knew in Japan. Of course, this is all fiction...a literary device. You didn't think this was a documentary, did you? But, I think that's it. They were people the storyteller knew in Japan. And this becomes clear with the postcard content. Yes, postcards instead of letters. Postcards are fragmented, dreamy, filled with fanciful thoughts. At least my post cards are.

"We just made it for the very end of cherry blossom season...Spring, rebirth...delicate pink blossoms lasting for only two weeks or so. And we sit under them and drink sake and celebrate the ephemeral nature of life. Then the winds come and blow them away stirring up such a storm of pink that you can hardly see. The Christians are also celebrating and Cloudy Bongwater was there with us in tow. We went to an old-fashioned Baptist revival in the Aoyama University Hall...7-hours long...hundreds of people singing, praying and testifying that he has risen. Even J-people witnessed. I thought it was surreal and a little bit sad. Why had they given up the pink storm for this artifice? And, to the Christians, what would Jesus do? I think he'd be down at the Bochi drinking sake with the J-people."

Can you believe that pages 21 and 24 are blank in my pocket dictionary? And Karin has brought 3 big bags of home made buns. How can I be expected to work under these effing circumstances?

Talking to Angels

Spoke to my mom last night. She listened to my editing blues and offered support. She was distracted, though. Hurricane Katrina is headed straight for New Orleans. She’s worried about getting out. She’s worried about getting my sister out, about getting the old lady out. The old lady is bed-ridden and she’s talking to angels.

I’m not confident that we’ll get to first cut before we leave Sweden. I must accept that it takes as long as it takes. Patrick is cutting one, maybe two sequences a day. That’s fast considering all of the material he has to wade through. I will have to start prioritizing.