Lakeside was supposed to be a beginning, but looking back it feels like an ending.
I think a lot of amazing work was done on it. The material all looks beautiful. Everyone involved did an amazing job, perhaps even me in places. And for a time the momentum of it was so invigorating it was like a drug. I imagined the creative partnerships forged in it continuing for a long time and in a variety of ways.
And for some, as I understand, it has.
As the momentum fell apart, through a variety of personal and professional issues, it had to be forcibly dragged to the last day of principal photography. By then it felt like doing so was nearly against the will or interest of everyone involved. The planning for that day felt more like an obligation.
Yet the success of the day, in many ways it was the most successful shooting day of the whole shoot, could have reinvigorated it.
But by then it didn't.
I guess trying to explain how that momentum died would require telling tales on other people that aren't all mine to tell, but that's certainly not to keep the responsibility from myself. In fact, most of the time, I'm satisfied to keep the failure on my shoulders along with all of the other things in my life that slowly fell apart in the time since then.
Now I go about trying to rebuild my life from then, having been kicked around pretty well and good by life, as well as by "Lakeside", in many ways.
I see that I've not done any significant creative work since then, and perhaps I don't believe I will in the same sense I did before of during the production of "Lakeside".
I feel a continuing nagging guilt that I haven't been able to provide the results to the other participants. It seems like every time I get into a position where I'll be able to get things moving toward the finish, some new obstacle sends my life tumbling about.
I have to admit that as time goes on, finishing it sounds less like a relief and more of an ending. The ending to my attempt to live out my dream of making movies.
Perhaps I exaggerate. I hope so on better days.
But then I look at the calendar and see my fortieth birthday approaching...
I suspect that's one dream that needs to be left behind for smaller options.
I promise I'll get that door closed as soon as I can, though. I know I'm the only one for whom this feels like the end of a dream rather than a signpost or small piece of one, and I know I owe all of those others their piece.