The thing is, up until now I’ve eased into those things like an old man slipping into a tub of warm water. I can feel in my bones that those days are over. They say that fortune favors the bold. I want to find out if that’s true. I want to throw myself into this life with a vengeance. I want to slam myself through all the barriers that fear has erected in my soul. My body may have left prison two and a half years ago, but my heart and soul did not. Now it’s finally time for that to happen. Art will be the horse I ride to freedom.
sharing this postcard video i made for my best friend on her wedding day, to meryl and james
Vanity destroys your work. That’s the one thing you have to let go of an actor. I don’t care how sexy or beautiful any woman is. At the end of the day, she has to take her makeup off. At the end of the day, she’s more than just pretty.
I find the notion of happiness rather strange… It has never been a goal of mine; I just don’t think in those terms.
I try to give meaning to my existence through my work. That’s a simplified answer, but whether I’m happy or not really doesn’t count for much. I have always enjoyed my work. Maybe “enjoy” isn’t the right word; I love making films, and it means a lot to me that I can work in this profession. I am well aware of the many aspiring filmmakers out there with good ideas who never find a foothold. At the age of fourteen, once I realized filmmaking was an uninvited duty for me, I had no choice but to push on with my projects. Cinema has given me everything, but has also taken everything from me.
I have always sought to transform my own experiences and fantasies into cinema.
Confidence is a trait that has to be earned honestly and refreshed constantly; you have to work as hard to protect your skills as you did to develop them.
via the New York Times Sunday Magazine
This, she is saying, is the agony of O.C.D., the skewed sense of cause and effect that first began to plague her when she was about 10. According to the National Institutes of Health, about 2.2 million adult Americans contend with some form of obsessive-compulsive disorder. It’s not uncommon for the symptoms to appear during childhood. Bamford is patient when explaining the particulars, aware that when she jokes about having wanted to chop up her family into bits or imagining what it would be like to lick a urinal, it can make her sound weird and also scary. But she makes a distinction: It’s the thoughts that are weird and scary, not the person. And while most of us are prone to having fleeting notions that would qualify as inappropriate, in the mind of someone with O.C.D., they are more likely to lodge themselves and repeat. The thoughts don’t tend to inspire action, only fear. It’s like having a homegrown terrorist in the brain.
Paradise or no paradise, I have the very definite impression that the people of this vicinity are striving to live up to the grandeur and nobility which is such an integral part of the setting. They behave as if it were a privilege to live here, as if it were by the act of grace they found themselves here. The place itself is so overwhelmingly bigger, greater, than anyone could hope to make it that it engenders a humility and reverence not frequently met within Americans. There being nothing to improve on in the surroundings, the tendency is set about improving oneself.