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Day out of Days

Bucharest, December 12, 2001

In the morning as I drive to studio outside Bucharest I see people skating on the icy lake. Tiny little snowflakes come hesitantly down. It's kick-off time. My newmade boots are ready. They fit perfectly.

We're tonight taking the paleness in the make-up down because the light bounces off it too much and "washes out" the rest of it. I pop the teeth in right away because I have not been able to practice. And the lenses. My own blue but in a circle of red.

Haunted. Strange. Menacing and fragile. The skin is deteriorating just slightly. The guy definitely has some problem. Ear-ring is just overkill. Didn't think the "bellbracelet" was going to be there. And never talked about it to the director. I've noticed he's into sounds. All sounds. Steps, brooms, voice, dogs, music.

That all around original contact of the surroundings. I like it so much as well. That's what I hope to do with the bells. He liked it. And we shoot. It's good, rough and after fifteen hours I love getting those lenses out.

So now. It's snore time. Arrivederci. Buona notte.


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