Sweden 2010, Day 4

Wine and sleep, contrary to popular belief, do not mix. Finally fell asleep at 23.30 and woke up at 4.00. Gonna be a long day.

The pace finally caught up with us yesterday afternoon. We did 2 extremely difficult songs, then, heads spinning with exhausted mental vertigo, went for a walk. We hung out at an old deserted dock and literally fell fast asleep. When I woke up, 30 minutes had passed and I realized I had neglected lunch. Growly tummy prodded me up, and we hit the grocery store because I was jonesing for a salad so bad I could barely stand it! What is it with bachelors and vegetables? Haha. When we got back, I totally passed out. I needed a nap.

We did manage to lighten the mood with an awesome salad and some steak and wine, and watched Clash of the Titans. Nothing like mindless brainless entertainment to numb everything. Sam Worthington eye candy is nice too. Later, when Mr. Black went to his little house to sleep, I stayed awake pondering. Bad idea.

It's amazing how exhausting this work can be. How in the hell do actors do this shit, day in, day out? Take upon themselves the emotional life of their character, breathing life into being with their skills and gifts? And how in the name of Zeus' BUTTHOLE do they let it go at the end of the day??!?!?!! (sorry, thx to Nick Cage from the Rock. Always loved that scene.) Days of being another person's voice for their pain, suffering, and redemption has drained me nearly dry. Maybe my friend Sven can shed some light on this conundrum. Is there some sort of special coping mechanism? I drank half a bottle of wine and cried for an hour last night after I went to bed. "Mr. Black's" soul has taken up residence in my body for the duration of these sessions, and where is mine now? The two have blended into one and I just hope I can extricate my own self at the end of this as painlesly as possible. Still, Like poor Dr. McCoy and Spock, I know the echo of it will always be there, and haunt me a bit. Poor Mr. Black... he is feeling is even worse than I am. This is his story, after all. The strain is evident, and thankfully he does not belittle himself or insult me by trying to hide it.

So back into the fray go I. Today will be our final recording session, two songs, one of which simply kills me emotionally to even read the lyrics. When this is over I want to run as fast as I can to the water's edge, and scream a primal wail in the direction of Denmark. Please don't misundertand me... I LOVE that I am doing this. It is the single most artistically fulfiling thing I have ever done, and the most difficult. I am grateful for every ounce of this experience. But it is changing me, and I have no idea if those changes will stay with me when I am back in my own environment again. I have no idea if I want them to stay or leave. But the unknown is such a beautiful thing.... and the most fertile ground for the human divine.

Love you guys, miss you, see you soon!