Cut - thats a Wrap!
I discovered something big!
My heart rate was up, my energy levels were high and my vision was clear and sharp.
My life was buzzing with people and places.
There was a project that I was putting together that included Sam and a group of kids his age. It “felt” similar to the creation of a major recording act for a global label: writing songs, choreographing, producing, arranging, styling, recruiting musicians, training crew and managing a whole host of people. But no - this wasn’t the music industry – it became more and more obvious that I was directing a blockbuster movie here!
I created a very large Project Picture Board and was cutting out pictures, collecting swatches, gathering materials, testing various colours and textures and mapping out scenarios on this board – crafting the project as an Artisan would plan his master creation.
This group of kids all had something in common – I had somehow linked stories, genetics, histories and experiences from their “real” lives in such a way that each person (performer, crew, staff, clients) involved in the project was powerfully linked to the other – in turn creating an emotional and spiritual bond that would hold them together in times of crisis and challenge.
At times I even got caught up on the “thrill” of the project when someone recognised or identified another “special” connection.
My heart was in my mouth – the excitement was palpable.
I was happy and busy – delegating, directing, and planning in a studio location that covered the size of what seemed like an entire country. The set was teeming with activity all established and designed to support my plans and the production of this project.
One night, while reviewing the casting list, I came up with two photographs and two names of men who looked very similar. They were each seeking the same role. I glanced back and forth at each photograph and name and selected quickly – and then moved on. This project was my life – there was no time to consider and postulate – I had to be on the ball – there was a deadline and a budget to meet! However even though this role was quite minor, I had this nagging feeling that I selected the wrong man for this part.
The project work continued as normal for a while. Sometimes I got caught up in the script and get carried away with the emotions of the storylines. We were beginning to film at night as well as day, and no one went home – everyone lived on set. This movie very quickly became our life.
One particularly long day, I was directing a cornerstone in the movie – where the storyline reveals the identity of 4 pivotal characters – and the connections between them were all somehow related to my current personal history. I turned to the script writer and queried this –as I didn’t authorise it. Before she could answer me, the man in the photograph that I didn’t choose for that particular part, and was now one of the extras, walked up to me, stood still and steady in front of me, faced me directly, reached out and touched my arm and my heart stopped beating – just for a moment. I gasped as his eyes “held” mine – not in a romantic type of way, but it physically “felt” like that. He said: “You selected the wrong man for that part. I’m the man – it’s me.”
Momentarily I became part of my own script. “OMG I KNOW you! It’s YOU. Where have you been? How could I have missed you?” My heart was singing. I recognised something in this man that felt like home – only a home I had never been to before. My whole body relaxed and held itself differently. We danced, kissed and hugged each other tightly and both cried tears of joy. “We have to be together. I need to speak with you. Where can we go to be alone?” he whispered and begged.
I don’t even know why I identified the feeling with “home” as I had no childhood home – none with pleasant memories at least. Safe – he felt safe – that was it! Safe from what? What did safe feel like anyway? This was unsettling – unfamiliar – however it “felt” warm – like one of those delicious late summer winds that rise up out of nowhere on a perfect day and echoes some memory of pleasure and comfort from long ago.
A camera fell, one light blew and the set broke for lunch break and crew, staff and actors swarmed around me with questions about the shoot seeking reassurance, asking direction and requesting assistance.
I quickly arranged to meet him later that day in the country set near the field of daffodils that lay beside the road up the mountain – where we were scheduled to shoot later that week. There we would have peace and quiet and no interruptions.
We parted – me back to my Directors job while he disappeared into a crowd of working bodies.
I rushed, raced, out of focus, out of control. Disconnected from my purpose, my concentration was wavering and I couldn’t think straight and was achieving nothing.
Followed by my assistants and minders, I began to walk to the daffodil set. It took me fours hours to walk there. As this walk was unscheduled, it created pandemonium on the set and amongst my staff who followed me firing relentless questions, asking for direction, seeking reassurance and requesting assistance.
I worked and walked, and sweated and puffed and began to feel emotions with every step. Anger, frustration, terror, anxiety – every feeling I had poured into my work, actors, characterisations and storylines were now felt and expressed. I had one focus – to reach him and be with him.
We reached the field of daffodils and he was waiting there for me.
Just as we were about to touch, I was interrupted by a cameraman.
I stopped to address his problem.
That complete, I touched his arm and the stylist needed assistance with an issue.
I fixed that for her.
He grabbed my hand and the production manager sought my advice on a lighting question.
I surveyed the area and delivered my recommendation.
He whispered gently in my ear and three actors interrupted with a query on their dialogue.
I asked for five minutes so I could finish my work, he let go of my hand.
Anger welled inside of me – attention diverted – I couldn’t do my job and I couldn’t spend time with this man.
I felt trapped and suffocated and in despair.
The soundtrack within me swelled to a dramatic crescendo and another director ABOVE our set yelled CUT – that’s a wrap – and all I heard was loud applause and then silence.
The man disappeared.
I was standing all alone in a field of daffodils with no production crew, actors, project or movie set in sight.
Just me.