An insight into my thoughts – By @GwenDzelle
An insight into my thoughts
It is funny that in my last reflection slide, I said that I wrote a lot more, but, I also can’t find a good enough subject for this SCAB… Everybody’s is so innovative, conceptual, well-written, relatable, with that little smart thing that makes it pop. And I don’t think I can bring that. So, I’m going to present to you my mash-up. I’ve collected my notebooks, pieces of paper, corner of tables and obviously, opened my phone (this is still the 21st century).
I unlocked a tiny door in my brain to show it to you: my thoughts. As random as they can be. —-
I’m in the same state of mind as I was the first year after high school and that was a hard year. Back then I already had a hard case of imposter syndrome, and I didn’t even know what that meant. So I’ve already learned from it, it has incredible benefits. It makes you work your ass off. When you see you’re not good enough. Work harder.
Tackle the nonfeedbacks and reach for at least having a word said to you, a facial expression. Aim to raise an eyebrow. You might think it is not asking for much but daaaaamn that’s a lot. A word, a critic, even insult. I don’t care. Something.
A reaction makes you grow, stone-cold silence only slows you down.
Le poids des mots, le choc des photos.
Word’s weight, Picture’s choc.
That was Paris Match strapline for a long time before they changed it to « la vie est une histoire vrai » ( life is a true story ). Hard to follow the first one, the first strapline that made them famous. And « life is a true story » is a good strapline but is it as powerful as “word’s weight, picture’s choc” ? Not sure of it. Because still now, in France, we use that line as an expression. And for me, I don’t think anything could describe better our job as creative.
So it’s turning in my head, « Le poids des mots, le choc des photos ».
During Marc’s last masterclass he said: ‘Sorry guys, I’m just going to move you right over there…’ Weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been moved like that before.
I write a lot more, completed several notebooks. I had NEVER completed a notebook before, that’s a good change I believe, seems like a productive change… an expensive one too. Last night, I killed a pen, a brand new pen, beautiful pen, I thought it dried out, turns out it didn’t. Shacked it like an apple tree, it exploded everywhere. Messy story, sad affair… Sometimes, I
wake up in the middle of the night thinking « Shit, should I write that ? ». And then, the pen mid air, I think, « What are you doing ? You like writing yeah? Well you certainly love to sleep so GO BACK TO SLEEP. » And I close my eyes. In the morning, I go back to it expecting to read the most interesting story, a brilliant idea, or the way to achieve world peace. Yeah… nope. It’s just a bloody disaster, weak grammar, not so much of a winner in orthograph too, words missing… Not pretty. Because weirdly, at the moment, I can only write in English… I think in English, I dream in English, I started to have an accent while breathing, the other voices in my head speak English too and I EAT IN ENGLISH. No, just kidding, faut pas pousser le bouchon non plus. So yeah, I write more, I don’t write well but I write. stories, thoughts, groups of words that somehow make sentences. I write freely, my hand starts to write when my head is not even there yet. That ends up a bit odd… I also write consciously, that’s when my head is there but my hands… sort of… can’t be arsed. Sometimes my head is ready to write, has a good idea, my hands consider it, agree, And then obviously I can’t find a piece of paper anywhere, there’s no pen because I murdered the last one last night, and as my brain it too busy searching, my idea goes away…
Farewell. Farewell, the Oscar I could have had for « best screenplay », Farwell, my friend.
Okay, I think that enough for that SCAB. On that note, Happy lockdown everybody, may your own thoughts be with you.