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Availability & the Privilege of Being Mad

I'm learning lots as I work on Development. About the availability—and unavailability—of actors, for instance. My head pops as I organise lists of days and times & dates when this one is here and that one is there and nearly everyone else is somewhere else: I'm a little dysnumeric in relation to time and dates and days of the week, & my usual strategies are sometimes not quite enough to cope with information about other people's timetables. (Fortunately, I can do sums in my head pretty well).

I'm also learning that there's a lot of help, often unexpected. Close to hand (thank you all) and in cyberspace (thank you all).

Just before Christmas I sent a slightly crazed message to Lisa Gornick, a filmmaker who makes beautiful drawings (have included her drawings here before), someone I met via a tweet that led me to a blog that linked to her blog. I wrote about my fears, and how curiosity keeps me going. Did any of my experience resonate with her?

Here's her response, tactfully tangential. I love it. Furthermore, Lisa's heading—The privilege of being mad—reminds me that making a movie is a privilege, however much my head pops or my heart sinks on a bad day. The image is larger on her blog, where there are other stunning drawings with titles like Gossip; Drawing legs; Valerie (Solanas); Auditioning from the other side; Don't play safe; and The man at his tidy desk terrifying everyone.

This is what Lisa wrote below the drawing:
Sometimes I would be in an acting workshop and we’d be given a game to wander about instinctively, with abandon, and whilst writhing along the floor, I’d think – how lucky to be an actor and get away with this. If I did it in the street or along the top deck of a bus, I could be carted off and given heavy tranquilisers.

(for Marian in New Zealand who’s casting for her film)
Seeing this taught me something. Yes. But even better it felt like a cyberhug, made me smile.


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