The hardest part of this gypsy/ carnie existence is spending time away from my family. You can never get time back and mourning it's passage is what most of great art is about. I'm on a plane, flying back into Grand Rapids after spending the weekend at home. The best part of it all is the skin to skin nothingness that passes time in the most sublime way. Pain and sacrifice make great art or at least valiant attempts at great art. Time will decide what the judgment of our endeavors will be.
Fuck. I hate this. My eyes are drowning behind a layer of tears.
I just hope that this sacrifice is worth it. everyday I will exhaust myself for the betterment of the film. There's a saying that ones commitment to something should be like a fire. After it's burnt, it leaves no trace of itself.
That sort of effort is the only way to properly spend this time away from my family.
I have a Sunset scout as soon as I land. Thank god.
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