Nov. 19th, 2002

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It's 2:30 pm, and I'm methodically stripping paint from windows. Usually, a putty knife is enough; sometimes it calls for a dental pick. I'm sealing cracks as I go, assessing, careful since sometimes the paint is all that holds the glass to the wood. This is what I do when I get lost.

Patrick and I are very different. It amazes me sometimes how different in so many pivotal ways. He's shooting monkeys right now. Flaming monkeys running through the Old West. This is what he does to calm himself.

We have nearly opposite world views. Where he directs like Baz Luhrman, I'm Kurosawa - wide angles and natural light. All of my characters are sympathetic, documented full-bodied with all their surroundings.

I believe, you see, that people are basically good. Beyond that, I believe that they're intelligent - that they act in their own best interest, and, when they can, that they try to help others. I deal with people who tell me to go to hell, because at least they care; I may deplore the current government, but I have a sense of why they make the decisions they do.

That's why it's so hard for me to hate someone, even someone so cruel to my husband that it makes him physically ill.

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