To begin, I'll just say I'm glad my role as a "traffic cop" didn't confuse the WWW-hungry masses to the point they were knocking into each other aimlessly like flesh-and-blood bumper cars in the chill evening air. I'll just let the credit fall to the other "traffic cops" stationed throughout the concourse. Everyone, big t'anks!
Russell Banks? Great evening, great revelations--great stories! I've got to admit I think I got a little depressed afterwards, and not just due to the evening's inevitable finish. Compared to Banks's life, his experiences, I felt a nagging tinge of "do I have the right to write?" After hearing Banks tell of his sprawling life--schmoozing with Castro, chumming with Nick Nolte, adventures in the film industry (such peerings into the film industry, so many, in fact, it felt as though we were listening to a full-time denizen of the film community)--I felt oddly full and empty at the same time. I felt I might hop a train after I got home. Rather than this, I wrote for a few hours once I got home and in front of my computer--'til around three a.m., actually!
This, I'm happy to report, is the effect I'd hoped to take home from this internship.
It couldn't be helped--Banks's advice (yes, I'm a card-carrying 'frontloader") echoed--still echoes--in my head.
More later.
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1 comment:
Well written article.
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