Saturday, June 17, 2006

Chapter One: Seeing The Light

It was raining and my good friend Falon and I were driving around. Well, she was driving, I was wishing that sixteen would roll around a little faster. We were barely sophomores in high school and our idea of a good time was driving around listening to Jay-Z's new album. (And maybe we were right. Those times, as I recall, were pretty fantastic.) The last stop before crossing the bridge back to our neighborhood, was, and always will be, downtown. The vintage streets and buildings bring a certain warm feeling over me, driving parallel with the water, the glistening christmas lights on the courthouse. Watching couples walk hand and hand, the special education teacher from our school juggling by the tourist booth. A semi-circle around him. That's another story all-together.

On this particular night, we saw the tell-tell signs of filming. As we understood it, Wilmington had become the filming site for a little show called Dawson's Creek. It was in its second season, and I had never seen an episode. But none the less, it was exhilarating seeing all the fantastic lights and huge trucks taking up half the street. We decided to park and wandered over the the Icehouse. Anyway, we stood and watched, and I remember seeing the cranes and monitors and huge China balls lighting up the set as a make-believe moon. I was really mystified by all the equipment and people with headsets on.

Falon started complaining that her hair was getting wet and she was cold. I told her to leave me and I would find a way home. (insert cheesy metaphor here) She indeed left, after I assured her it was okay.

And that was it. It just struck me. I stood there and just watched and listened and probably looked crazy for close to three hours. And immediately I knew, maybe piano wasn't my thing, and its no wonder I wasn't very good at sports, but thought I had finally found my niche. I was going to make movies.

Let the disillusionment begin.

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