The past week I’ve been rehearsing with Ivan Thorley and a bunch of dancers for his film Forget me not then getting up at 4am for a dawn shoot and going to bed at 4am after a night shoot that was last night and so I’m feeling peculiarly delirious right now. It’s been lots of fun, Hadean volumes of smoke and haze, so much food I couldn’t say no to, fake blood and real dirt, learning to be crows, getting costumed and make-up’d by Anita from the wonderfully strange and beautiful Bird Girl (and dining on chicken curry and other delicacies) in Fitzroy, playing and dancing and then the filming, Cobie and an awesome crew smoke-machine inferno and Dantean parcans, more eating, freezingness and hysteria in semi-nudity 2am splitter-splttering around puddles and across cobblestones, in and out of an empty warehouse and Dickensian alleys off Moor St, I’ve forgotten quite a few things, but Ivan is flying to Italy, or is it Spain next week, and rumours of a quick cutting of film and then for everyone to see. (Some photos from my now unequivocally antiquated camera I have dropped far too often.)
