In Film, Irish Mist, Local projects, Revision, Sanford Meisner on September 26, 2014 at 6:37 am

In things to do (at some point today, when I’m not sputtering with frustration): stage another attempt at resolving the phone and internet provider screw-up – the switchover of the account to my name, still not effective and the land phone still not working. Notwithstanding these minor annoyances, the money flows out nicely from my account with no hitches whatsoever. So far, phone calls from my friends’ land lines haven’t met with much success, and my two letters to the service provider have received form-letter type responses. Minor is as minor does. I’m about to suffocate under a landslide of paper. Suffocating just ain’t my thing.

It doesn’t take all that much to keep me going: an eleven-year old boy, about to leave for a month because of a family emergency who writes “I’ll miss you” in his notebook? I’m good to go for another stretch.

But pacing is a big problem. Every centime is a struggle, not just for me but for most of the people I know.  Someone working a twelve-hour day? Another with four kids, finding nothing but twelve-hour part-time work in broken shifts spread over five days? The only advantage to being surrounded by others in similar circumstances: most of them understand when the emotional pressure cooker blows. Your turn today, my turn tomorrow. Onward, forward, under, through and/or the long way around.

Getting enough of a grip for writing to happen. Writing other than rants, vents, screeds and hollers of frustration. Or writing that makes something worthwhile of these messy states, despite their less-than appealing origins.

In movieland (the low-budget kind, at any rate), a grip is someone who holds the mike just out of camera range while the principals whisper, confide, share what the audience will see as a private moment. I suppose film productions with big budgets use a mechanical arm to do the job, these days.

“I’ll miss you”, the boy wrote. Then, he left and I re-entered the surrealistic world of a girl who must think long and hard before risking the right answer to 9 + 1 = … Who knows what may have happened since the last time when the correct answer was 10?


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