For our next filming location, we were in Trevally, holed up in a small but rather famous, local motel called Moglins Mote, with the missing “l” at the end being intentional, we were told, although no one seems to know the reason why. Heidi and I sat up most of the night watching art films on the tv, simply because the bed didn’t have any animations. Unexpected, obviously: we eventually fell asleep in each others arms on the couch. My back hurt in the morning. My neck as well. Heidi complained of knee problems. Yet we had to be out there at 9am, shooting with the rest of the cast and crew, Heidi’s orders. They all had the same problems with the beds. Understandably we decided to shorten our stay here, and perhaps cut back on the whole Lance A. Lott – Smokey brother re-bonding story due to be resolved in this sim. I saw Heidi with her pencil crossing out line after line on the script this morning, reaching down to rub her knees at various intervals. Actors Morris and Van Jimson, also brothers in real life, will likely be notified of the reduced lines and accompanying pay later today or tomorrow. Heidi is both fast and thorough, which makes her a top notch director in the business, right up there with fellow surrealist Eraserhead Man and the rest. But Heidi loathes comparisons with the Great Pencil, being his doppleganger and all beneath the surface, an unknown, intimate connection to most, although they play around with the truth by sharing motifs between their movies, even openly dealing with the doubling aspect at times. He was born a pencil and she a pen, but she decided to adopt a fully human body to more effectively play the lead heroine in her own films, and perhaps in other films in time. But right now she had her hands full with her own, and the flow of ideas didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.
It was odd to date Heidi both in real life and in “Sunklands 2021 Middle Too”, with the director part adding even more queer reverberations to the mix. When we make love sometimes, I think it is Heidi the character beneath me — or beside me or on top of me or whatever. Not Heidi the director/actor. It’s almost as if — only sometimes mind you — the characters we play are more real than ourselves, and that Heidi likes it that way. We are subsets of them and not visa versa.
“One more night in this place,” she says to me from the side, razorblade garb still in place. It’s starting to get a little freaky.
“I think I’ll just sleep right here in the pool,” I responded, and leaned back into the water, staring at the stars while floating until all turned to black.