I was shooting out in Southern Utah this week, down south of Moab in the desert of Indian Creek. The scenery was breathtaking, but the shoot was stressful and busy and I didn't have much time to myself. We were filming a Land Rover commercial, and our "hero" vehicle was a gleaming white Land Rover Discovery.
Because brands are very specific about the way their product is filmed, the car had to be cleaned many times over our three day shoot. One time, we were all set up and ready to film, but we were waiting on the car to have its bath. I walked over to JP, the car wrangler (who you would have loved, by the way, a very interesting man from Scotland, thoughtful and knowledgeable and fatherly), and offered to help him clean the car so I could speed things along.
The way he explained to me exactly what had to be done, exactly which cloths to use (there were at least four different shades of blue and each one served a different purpose), the seriousness with which he took this process, it all reminded me of you. It probably took him longer to explain everything to me than it would have for him to just do the whole thing himself. And, of course, even after his long explanation he was reluctant to really let me do much -- he was obviously convinced I would get it wrong.
But, finally he told me I could dry off the top of the vehicle. Standing there perched on the top of the back tire and leaning over the moon roof of this Land Rover with a rag while a crew of 20 people waited for me to finish, I chuckled to myself. It was a sight you would have loved to have seen, and one in which I would have told you about afterwards and made a joke about how the money you spent on my college education was going to good use.
Afterwards, walking down and away from our set, which was a deserted campground at the top of a pile of rocks, I saw this sight, these mountains bathed in purple, and I just burst into tears. Where are you, Dad? Where are you? Every time I saw those mountains over the next few days at exactly the time of the day when they turn purple in the setting sun, I thought of you and I cried behind my sunglasses. I crouched behind cars and hid from everyone and just took a minute to cry for you. God, I miss you so much, Dad.
love amy
Because brands are very specific about the way their product is filmed, the car had to be cleaned many times over our three day shoot. One time, we were all set up and ready to film, but we were waiting on the car to have its bath. I walked over to JP, the car wrangler (who you would have loved, by the way, a very interesting man from Scotland, thoughtful and knowledgeable and fatherly), and offered to help him clean the car so I could speed things along.
The way he explained to me exactly what had to be done, exactly which cloths to use (there were at least four different shades of blue and each one served a different purpose), the seriousness with which he took this process, it all reminded me of you. It probably took him longer to explain everything to me than it would have for him to just do the whole thing himself. And, of course, even after his long explanation he was reluctant to really let me do much -- he was obviously convinced I would get it wrong.
But, finally he told me I could dry off the top of the vehicle. Standing there perched on the top of the back tire and leaning over the moon roof of this Land Rover with a rag while a crew of 20 people waited for me to finish, I chuckled to myself. It was a sight you would have loved to have seen, and one in which I would have told you about afterwards and made a joke about how the money you spent on my college education was going to good use.
Afterwards, walking down and away from our set, which was a deserted campground at the top of a pile of rocks, I saw this sight, these mountains bathed in purple, and I just burst into tears. Where are you, Dad? Where are you? Every time I saw those mountains over the next few days at exactly the time of the day when they turn purple in the setting sun, I thought of you and I cried behind my sunglasses. I crouched behind cars and hid from everyone and just took a minute to cry for you. God, I miss you so much, Dad.
love amy
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