"My films are therapy for my debilitating depression. In institutions people weave baskets. I make films."
Mr. Allen has his films. I have my photography. Whatever one has or does to chase away the debilitating sadness is terribly personal to the one experiencing it. I know that a fellow human can't be thing... no. It has to come from deep within, way down deep. It is through the expressions of creativity come the emotion that makes us... us. Fear, sadness, despair, loneliness, there is no difference between those emotions and happiness, joy, contentment, popularity. Having too much of any one of those things can lead one to some dark ledges, in the middle of the night, during a storm... with lightning.
But I digress.
As I stood on the corner of Lexington and 20th, on that late summer day last year, I was filled up with all the motion back and forth, all the sights and sounds, all the life going on during the filming of Woody Allen's latest film, Blue Jasmine. In between the calls of QUIET... ACTION..., there was plenty to see both on the set and off. The public was allowed to come and go at will, and the neighborhood provided plenty of visual art. The young man in the photo above has a story, which is his to tell, but what caught this photographer's eye was the fact that he was dressed in garb that could have into fit almost any of Woody Allen's films! He probably dresses that way every day, and yet on this day he was simply moving about his life for a moment he became a part of the scenery of life like never before, at least as imagined by this observer! It was one of the many spontaneous, surreal moments that made me feel like I wasn't watching Woody Allen make a movie... no... it was more like I was sleeping walking and suddenly I was in a Woody Allen movie being made!
Have you seen it?
It's about a lifelong admirer of a genius, writer, producer, comedian, film-maker who brings the magic of movie making close enough for her to hear his voice across the street.
And she brought her camera along to document what it was like to watch a movie being made. But found instead that the danger of walking a sleepwalker is finding out you aren't in a dream but rather reality.
But hearing his voice across the street made the dream come true, and it was a more like a scene from a movie than reality.
Then suddenly she realized... she's in the movie.
And it was one of those days that remind her, no matter how things felt, or life got lonely, or world events scared or exasperated her, there would always be movies... and photography.
Art. And basket weaving.
"The difference between sex and death is, with death you can do it alone and nobody is going to make fun of you."