Drawn by a Star

I have become an accomplished Procrastinator. How long is it since I wrote: 'Buzzing with energy, I'm ready to restart writing my screenplay ?' It's been a month, if not more. Having decided to rename Rachel (my main character) Shifra , an avalanche of exciting new ideas and people rushed into my life. They mostly arrived via the Internet. My imagination was fired, but the screen play became like a damp squib. More graphically, like a box of sodden fireworks. When the surge of new ideas and mind opening information subsided, everything regarding the screenplay went blank and then mute. Every time I sat down to write, I was plagued by a dreadful feeling I simply couldn't do this anymore. I felt empty, perplexed,then completely discouraged. My bare bones Pitch, this is the film's storyline in the briefest possible synopsis, omits all the interesting bits I feel give the screenplay it's specialness. The Pitch: A young talented Jewish (disinherited...

This morning started with the clear intention to delve deep into the character of the protagonist of my film. My screenplay has been on hold for over a year. I'm ready to start again. More than ready. I'm buzzing. I 'know' Rachel, my main character well. But I don't know how to visually bring her to life, how to explain her complicated back story on screen. This feels essential to the end of the story. And I don't know how to make her relationship believable, because I'm not sure I believe such supportive relationships actually exist. So I'm now open to allow her to change and grow in any way she leads, yet the seeds of the original synopsis feel like my life boat. What if I abandon that also, and start completely afresh ? What if I take her relationship away,and make her a single mother? Well a single 'person,' because a mother she no longer is. Her new born baby's been abducted. This is the start of the film. Nope. Don't t...

Christian is free. He has left Cusco jail. I don't know any details. They don't matter anyway, now. It's over. After three months locked up in a terribe jail, this 20 year old Peruvian man will soon get back to working as a gardener in the Sacred Valley which leads up to Machuu Picchu. He loves plants and is knowledgable about them. He is also a talented photographer. Wendy and Jose will have their big brother to play with in the evenings. Teresa , his mother, will be cooking for him again. Thick vegetable soups. Rice puddings maybe. His friend Carlos will give him counseling and CCMBA healing. His ordeal has touched me deeply. I'm not quite sure why. The story, what I know of it, is ugly and sad. Very ugly. Very sad. Ugly is a word I rarely use. Sadness can be a doorway to wonderful new ways of being. 'God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites, so that you will have two wings to fly, not one.' ( also Rumi). Suerte youn...

"I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding." — John O'Donohue. I do love to live like this. Carried by the surprises of each day. Not knowing where any hour will lead, but trusting all is an adventure in learning more about how to be in the moment, how to love more, how to be compassionate towards everybody , and how not be be attached to anything. What follows covers all of the above ! I had wanted to share some of the stories of the Chocolatadas (the hot chocolate fiestas here in the mountains around Machu Picchu) but yesterday's surprise is still with me, an unfinished experience, so the chocolatadas will have to wait. Yesterday (Thursday 6th),was the festival of the Tree Kings in Ollantaytambo,Peru, a little town well known for it's Inca ruins, and it's train station. Most people visiting Machu Picchu will catch the train here. This anual festival takes the form of groups of traditional dancers wearing elab...

"Real friendship or love is not manufactured or achieved by an act of will or intention. Friendship is always an act of recognition." — John O'Donohue (Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom) Today I had one of those rare acts of recognition. It happened by the river as I was on my way to visit a healer. But first I want to share another moment of recognition that happened last Wednesday in Puno, beside Lake Titicaca. Last Wednesday morning, after a night with no sleep due to the alititude, I staggered to a chemist to buy some ibroprofen. It had rained most of the night, the pavement was wet. Coming back, close to my hotel, I noticed a tall man maybe about 50 striding towards me. His eyes were distracted, one possibly with a catheract. His face was deeply lined and he was wearing the traditional clothes of the country people here. My first though was that he was from one of the islands on Lake Titicaca. But what was the drama, why the hurry ? He wore the familiar, loca...

Pisac, The Sacred Valley, Peru. Sometimes traveling is confusing. Illness or tiredness can blurr the vision of what brought one to a particular country. I have learned over many years that seldom if ever am I in a foregin country for the reason I think. And so it's happening again. What now ? What next ? I have about two weeks left. Exhaustion. Altitude sickness taking ages to wear off. Concerns about two young Peruvian friends who are in touble here, one in prison, the other separated from his wife and child. Christian's case will not be reviewed until April. The prison is grim beyound discription. My other friend feels lost to me. Wonderful encounters along the way though with angels ( taxi drivers, steet sellers , clowns, ) who guide me to safe heavens. The huge love I feel for the indigenious people here in Peru gets stronger and stronger. A nurse told me the childrens rosy cheeks are not just a sign of wind burn, but a sign of beauty. At birth the baby...

Lake Titicaca is just at the bottom of my road, but I haven't got the energy this morning to go further than the chemists! The sprawling city of Puno at the north end of this famous lake, sits at staggering 12.500 feet above sea level. It's fairly inevitable that at some point in a journey one's body will rebel against all the changes it's having to cope with. This is what is happening right now with mine, today. After a sleepless night, finding it very heard to breath, with two drunks shouting beneath my bedroom window at 2.30 am ( for almost an hour),I read the symptoms on the Internet this morning for altitude sickness. I am not a severe case. Thank God. I am just a poor patient. I don't have much patience with myself when my body is in discomfort, and a wee bit of panic tends to rear it's head. At 3.30am (this morning) I got dressed, went onto my balcony, and asked very nicely if the two ' chicos '( young men) below could do me a grea...