Emily told me days ago that l should journal not only to improve as an actor but also for my well being. So I wrote as much as l wanted and it read as:
Just finished Looper; I guess you can say I closed my loop on the film. I'm horrible at this. It was great fun but l had this nagging, depressing emotion that followed me around for weeks. This emotion of doubt—universal for all actors— seemed to be amplified under the sun. That the audience wouldn't believe in me, wouldn't get the message of this sci-fi film. If it was as easy as tattooing in bold black letters BELIEVE (I would have done it in a second) on my forehead then it would have been solved. Hell, but if l believe that I got a second chance then it shouldn't be too hard for an audience to believe in a sci-fi movie. Okay, going to NY soon to get away from the place. Always grateful.
As l finished the last sentence, a sudden urge to do another job—to escape the bottomless pit—entered my thoughts but my body needed rest and company.
***
"Hey, Mom"
"You look older," she grinned as she opened the door.
Her smile got rid of any tension in Ryan's body and her deep autumn eyes were his world for three seconds as she looked up to hug him. Any good parent would have that effect on their children, as if they were returning to the playground—the ultimate haven for imagination—where they feel free and safe because their guardian casted a bubble to protect them. He can smell the camellia oil on her short, curly hair that brought countless memories.
"Come in. Come in. Their is some Chinese in the fridge"
She glided to the kitchen wearing her favorite slippers: a worn out night franks floral scuffs in the smallest size. She had a warm smile throughout heating up the food and made jokes about the new neighbors—a new college couple that constantly woke her up at night with loud screams and thumps to the wall.
"Are you seeing anyone?" She looked up at the microwave: 5, 4, 3 in yellow digits.
"Wouldn't you want me to." He looked at the corner of the room to a beautiful ming-style blue and white porcelain vase.
"I mean after Jaz—" She looked back at Ryan's head as she heard a loud beep.
"I know. I know. You know, I'm just focusing on my career right now. I'm young. The thrill of working on a project you love is greater than working on a relationship. And hey, at least when l'm arguing with a director l'm getting paid."
"And at least after you argue with your partner you can do what my neighbor does at night".
"Ewww. Thank you." She handed him the plate of food and sat down opposite of him.
"I'm thinking of moving. What do you think?"
"Really? This house is a gem. So many memories." Ryan grinned after swallowing the hot spring rolls.
"Yes. But the loans their—"
Ryan looked up and there was a fierce intensity in his blue eyes that surprised Tess. He grabbed her hand and said, "You don't have to worry about that. The business has treated me well."
"Oh." She put her hand on her chin. "Baby, it's alright. I have been putting more shifts in—"
He shook his head and a flicker of rage consumed him, "No. It's alright." He tried to calm himself and added, "l got a promotion. D list to at least B list."
She smiled and replied, "Only if in high school you got B's instead of D's"
He raised up his hands and chuckled, "Hey, at least I'm trying now. And l was a good student. I passed the regents and got the diploma."
"You remember when you tripped on the stage and—"
"They gave me a larger size. And l swear Ricky was fooling around."
"You talked to him recently? He's a good kid."
"He's taking me to the airport tomorrow."
"Oh where are you going"
"Venice"
"Oh. You must go to Venini Gallery. It's marvelous" She smiled and was curious about the amount of travel her baby must have done.
"Sure. I bring you back a piece" He got up to clean his dish and the others but was stopped by his mother to go shower and rest.
The rest of the night went by quickly and the conversation was warm. Her loud giggle seemed to erase the weeks of shooting and her touch got rid of the sunburn he got from the Louisiana sun. Ryan wasn't a religious person and thought the idea of saints somewhat ridiculous, but he knew that the acts of Saint Padre Pio healing a woman of a severe tumor or Saint Roch laying hands on plague victims who recovered seemed mild compared to the power of the small woman sitting across from him. He slept soundly and hugged his mother at the entrance of the airport and headed to his departure gate.
***
Venice was a fever dream. As he walked toward the Teatro La Fenice, the grand opera house hosting the screening, Ryan paused by the Rialto Bridge. Market stalls were already bustling with vendors selling fresh seafood and fruits. The cacophony of Italian chatter and the distant toll of church bells wrapped around him. A breeze carried the salty tang of the lagoon.
Inside La Fenice, the atmosphere was electric. The darkened auditorium brimmed with an audience who was excited to be there . As the lights dimmed, Ryan's nerves fluttered — what if the Sundance audience was the only one who liked the film, only one who liked me. The film unfolded like a spring, the moment the audience saw Seth and Peter, the pace exploded into a quick pace. When the credits rolled, applause erupted, warm and sustained. Ryan caught the glance of Zach, a smile of mutual respect. Later, as he mingled with the crowd beneath the gilded chandeliers, snippets of praise floated toward him: "Your portrayal was sharp… surprising…are you in other work?."
That evening, Ryan wandered through Venice's never-ending streets, the cobblestone was slippery with recent rain. The canals mirrored the star-studded sky and he thought about Seth and how Venice with its decay and rising sea levels seemed to mirror his drive.