Week Before the Shoot

I am broken down. I look very ugly. Yet I am still clearly a beautiful woman who looks ugly. I had forgotten the pull of a beautiful woman in distress, tired, bearing up bravely. Men hold doors. An old man on the subway put down his paper to tell me jokes through the trip. At lunch, the regular place, a jacket potato was just two pounds, just for me, just today. A fruit seller gave me a banana, a place to sit, a time to rest when I usually walk by.

The film is pulling together, as it always does.