Only eight days of shooting remain and each day blurs into the next. I find myself missing the west coast with its abundance of public transportation and accessible bookstores.
It rained on Saturday night and we shot outside, sodden after twelve hours of misery.
When I get back I will read Alice Munro’s “Too Much Happiness” and hopefully some other good stuff. I miss the feeling of being contained inside a story or a novel. I miss good stories. I miss good people.
Looks like the sun has reached me.
We’re halfway done and our most difficult week starts today. In less than four weeks I should be back on the west coast unless some work comes my way here. I finally purchased a new phone, and yes, it is an iPhone. It’s pretty good. At least I hope to take some quality pictures this week without having to lug my regular camera around.
I just rediscovered Pandora. Forgot how much I missed it. Last weekend I got shot in the face with an airsoft gun. It was not a pleasant experience, and became less pleasant when I realized I had blood running down my cheek. I’ve yet to enact my revenge.
I haven’t left Monroe since I got here, but it isn’t so bad because I do nothing besides sleeping and working. I hope I can see more of Detroit before I leave. I’d love to write a piece about it. There’s so much going on here culturally.
See you next week.
A brief moment to myself.
I called J last night just to hear her voice on the answering machine. You know perfectly well the scene: I’ve had too much to drink or maybe just enough to start thinking about the city. It started raining and, in a flash of ridiculously misplaced anger, I punched the wood paneled wall with my good hand, the hand on which the skin has yet to split, and to my surprise, I could have kept going. The skin would have held me together.
I’d know that voice anywhere. If I were asleep and she spoke in some other room, the sound would reverberate in my skull and I would dream of her face, our mismatched smiles in the mirror, brief glints of sunshine on the building across the way.
You haven’t changed. At least the recording of you hasn’t changed, the timbre of your voice the same as if we’d spoken just yesterday, or kissed at the bus stop for the first time, or you laid your hand on my leg as I spoke to my buddy Richard about music.
Nothing ever leaves us.
This begins day three of night shoots and day six of shooting. I’m pretty sure I’m not as excited as I should be, but the locations have been great. We shot in the largest mosque in North America on Day 1, Ann Arbor (home to UM) on Day 2, and in and around the original Detroit Model T Factory (now abandoned) on Days 3 and 4. We’re in the factory again tonight, after which we go down south to a little town called Monroe for almost four weeks of night shoots.
I haven’t been reading anything at all. I feel really disconnected from writing and reading, and I’m sure this will continue until the end of the shoot. It’s almost nice to not think about those things and to focus only on this job. I think we’re very lucky to have good people on the crew. We have fun and we get things done.
April 6th. One month left until I start writing again. I may post some photos here soon.