A Photo A Day For 6 Months: Day 102~ Do One Thing Everyday That Scares You
"Do one thing everyday that scares you."
See that pretty admiral butterfly above? A lovely creature, right? Someone once said, butterflies are flying flowers. Well, I don't know if I would quite go that far, but I know this, last Thursday, I was grateful for her visit. She helped me focus last Thursday, and without her help it would have been a much more difficult day. Here's what happened...
Okay, so you already know that I had more than a few obstacles block my quest to find Woody Allen in San Francisco last week. First it was my wacky Fibromyalgia, then we found a ridiculous Hornworm had invaded the tomatoes, then when we finally went on Wednesday, Alan and I found that Woody had wrapped up shooting at the place we heard he would be at before we could get there. LOL. It was a bit disheartening to say the least. As we drove by the empty intersection at 14th street and South Van Ness, Alan said it would be silly to not try again the next day. I agreed, and closed my eyes for the long ride home along the coast.
Thursday morning came, and it was an absolutely beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky! The only thing that seemed out of place was that I somehow kept losing my SD cards and the batteries for the camera. Odd. But finally off we went, this time taking the Bay bridge, rather than the coast by way of the San Mateo bridge, so we would be downtown earlier then the day before. Even so, I wasn't altogether sure it would make a difference. I have terrible luck. Always have. Well, you know, what ever can go wrong... will. So knowing that, I was completely prepared to get to the new location at 20th and Lexington, just in time to see the last truck filled with filming equipment turn onto Mission street, as they made their way back to wherever film is kept while awaiting editing.
Nope. That wasn't what I found as we turned onto 20th. No, I came face to face with not one studio services truck, but more like 6 or 8 BIG WHITE studio services trucks, lots of people milling around, lots and lots of technical equipment and the one thing I thought I would NEVER see in a million years... a sleek, black town car, with the driver standing in front of it. And it wasn't just any driver, it was the very same driver I had seen on the news a week earlier, that was waiting to drive Woody Allen back to the house in Marin County that he had been filming in.
Suddenly, then whole scene in front of me went a kinda surreal BRIGHT WHITE! Alan was taking to me, but even sitting here right now, I have NO idea what he was saying, or if it mattered. I kinda remember something about how neat IT was, whatever IT was! All I know is that as I sat in the passenger seat, rolling through an obvious movie set was... EVERYTHING WAS REALLY WHITE. But I didn't know what I was looking at. ALL I COULD FOCUS ON WAS A BLINDING WHITE LIGHT. Had I just died? Was I going into the light? How could I have simply turned onto a street and just... died?
It only took about a minute or less to get to the end of the street. I am sure of that, but GOOD LORD, WHY WAS EVERYTHING... SO... WHITE? As Alan turned onto Mission, I realized that I wasn't actually going into the light. It had simply been that as we rode down 20th street, the sun was in the perfect place in the sky to bounce right of one of the many white trucks which led to a temporary blinding. WHEW! Okay... I was okay. That was certainly a close one. But I was ok. WHEW. Dodged one that time!
We found a place to park, gathered our cameras, and began to walk to the corner of Mission and 20th. As we turned the corner, my pulse began to beat really hard. I was sweating from head to foot, and I was keenly aware that I hadn't dressed right that morning! Why in the HELL had I chose to wear black pants and a grey top? What had I been thinking? Why had I worn THAT blouse? OMG... I am completely dressed ALL WRONG. I SIMPLY DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH CLOTHES ON! I stopped dead in my tracks, and couldn't take another step!
Alan must have asked me two or three times if I was okay, before I could find the common English words to answer him. LOL. I explained that I was dressed ALL WRONG! He just stood there, listening to me babble on with an amused look on his face. "Oh come on" he said... lets go. He then gently took me by the hand, and pulled me along as we walked down 20th... toward the corner where the filming was going on. OMG. The same side of the street where they were filming???? WHAT WAS ALAN DOING?
Okay... my heart is now beating at full capacity. BEAT BEAT BEAT, and I was beginning to see that white light again. OKAY. ENOUGH! I stopped dead in my tracks, about 25 feet from ground zero. "ALAN, I am... going... to... go... across... the... street... and... that's... all... there... is... to... it! I am NOT going to continue on this side of the street. I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH CLOTHES ON!" And across the street I went. I am pretty sure I heard Alan laughing his ass off... but I immediately ignored it!
While I wasn't making a whole lot of sense, my decision was absolutely the right thing to do. You see, I knew deep down that if I continued along on the same side of the street that Woody Allen was on, I would be right there, as he came down the red stairs, which would have resulted in an embarrassing scene along the lines of my having peed myself, or speaking in tongues, or perhaps... I don't know... passing out cold or something. I think this was one of the most vivid cases of fight or flight that I have ever experienced. I am sure sometime around late November I will experience a full on panic attack, but I will cross that street when I come to it.
So with myself across the street, at a safe distance, I gradually calmed down. I counted. I people watched. I snapped off photos of interesting things, like that beautiful butterfly. I enjoyed the lovely tree we were standing under. I listened to other people's excitement. I enjoyed listening to everyone share why they wanted to be there, and what their favorite Woody Allen movie was. So were film students, so were celebrity hounds, some were just like me, a fan, who admired his work. The time passed quickly, suddenly I realized I had been there for about 2 hours, and a little while later, there he came down the red stairs. I had expected someone in the crowd to yell something to him, but instead everyone was really quiet. There wasn't even a single "HI WOODY" to be heard. It was surreal unto itself. He just got into the town car, and silently rode away.
And I had just faced a fear.
There is just nothing like it.
It always makes me feel so alive to know... I did it. Whatever "it" is.
Thank you Alan. :)
"What if everything is an illusion and nothing existis? In that case, I definitely overpaid for my carpet."