Mmmmmmm sleepy…

Lou sent me a prayer plant!

The one I used to have died when I was in Sardinia. Even though there were people in my flat, they missed it. I came home and it was ruined. I’ve been trying to nurse it back to health but basically it’s fucked. It was utterly dessicated when I got to it.

Now I have this one. It was placed discreetly in the corner of my room. I would have just dismissed it as decoration if I hadn’t been set to look at it. “Have you been in your room?” I was asked, and I had but I pretended I hadn’t in case I’d missed something. I went up to look again and still saw nothing – but these rooms are full of plants. It was in a corner. I missed it twice, and the discreet message stapled to the bag. Another thing not to kill. Better than a child.

I’m wrapped. Unlike my plant.

This has been a real validation of my accumulated nous. It seems I know my way better these days around the dance of it. Janina said: “Have you noticed how the DOP smiles and nods pretty much every time you speak?” I hadn’t. I hope it bears out into the edit. I’ve felt at home, and very much understood by the director and the team. I know this game now, of course. It’s my job. But I guess there’s a confidence that only comes by doing. Wonderful people to work opposite, a witty script… Generally this has been as glorious job.

This evening I found Nicola and Helena and we had a brief drink. Nicola is staying in one of the apartments, and is holding down a huge part with terrific balance. Helena, has about the same billing as me and got recognised by a receptionist on day 1 for being a child actor in the Harry Potter franchise. That must be weird. “I was a child! Now I’ve trained.”

Everybody on set made a big fuss of me for my birthday. It was even on the call sheet. I feel spoilt – (I was even given a bottle of bubbly by production!)

One more night in The Headland. Then tomorrow I’m back driving long distance. I’ll miss the luxury of this place. I’m off to sleep now with the sound of the sea. Too “tired” to make good sentences.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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