I began writing The Good Kill in July of 2017 and worked on it just about every day in some capacity until March 31 when I completed the manuscript at last and in a rush rushed right out to the UPS Store (I am not sponsored by or own stock in the UPS Store, it’s just that it’s like twenty minutes closer than Staples, of which I am not sponsored by or own stock in) to get three copies of the masterly work of art (as regarded solely by yours truly at this point) printed out in a rush and then rushed two of them out to my editors who are AKA my worldly-wise and well-read and spirited sister and her dashing husband – yeah, dashing as in he’s pretty studly, but mostly dashing as in he’s continually dashing off after my worldly-wise and well-read and spirited sister as she leads them on yet another global adventure — and then rushed right back home where I sat and admired and stroked lovingly for hours and hours the third copy of the manuscript.
Today I begin my cross-country trip with my sons to LA to join the rest of the cast and crew to film our movie LEAVE.
As I’ve expressed here and on other networks often in the past and even more lately, there are many wonderful and supportive people who helped me through many adversities these past several years to allow me to be in this fortunate position I am now in.
This could get long and teary-eyed so I’ll save everyone the time and me the embarrassment and cut to the proverbial chase:
Outside my immediate family, I am hard-pressed to think of anyone who has supported me more, through times bad and good, with his physical, spiritual, and financial presence and care, than my long-time friend, my mentor, and my boss, Paul Weidow.
LEAVE would absolutely not be possible without Paul’s and his partner Stan Nolen’s (another long-time friend and eternal brother) generosity towards and faith in me.
Paul bringing me on part-time to be a member of his PLEX Solutions family, allowed for a stress-free transition back to normalcy and under terms very, very favorable to one still fragile and unsure of himself, yet one in great need of validation of worth, as well as one in great need of the time and funds to support and develop his movie-making dream, a dream that now, in much part because of him, is only days away from becoming a reality.
Thank you, Paul. I love you, brother.
Check out this amazing guy’s amazing company >> www.plex-llc.com
And please remember, LEAVE still requires much more support in the form of love, currency, outreach, and effort to ensure not only its completion, but its completion in a manner that enables us to fully realize our vision:
To Create a Cinematic Work of Art that
Entertains and Inspires Positive Change
#beliveinleave >> PLEASE DONATE
by elizabeth stokkebye
Seventeen and in Paris on my own.
It was my first encounter with the city of love and I was fortunate to stay with an aunt and uncle, who both being workaholics, left me with oceans of time to explore. I hurried out the door to experience the vast world of Paris with its majestic architecture, its towering cathedrals, its world-renowned art collections, its peaceful parks, and its crowds of people.
The air was spring like, mild and sunny, although I was spending my Christmas holiday away from my home in Denmark. Traveling by myself in a foreign world filled me with a sensation of pure freedom. I remember how my breathing felt different: effortless and silent but steady and consistent. It was breathing devoid of depression and anxiety. I breathed without past or future and let the air be present.
Walking along grand boulevards beneath a blue sky sporting white clouds I felt my loving heart circulate blood through my veins.
On my way past one of the many cafés lining the wide sidewalk, my sway caught the attention of a street performer playing his violin. As I danced by him he let go of his instrument and started to sing Ne me quitte pas. I stopped, turned around, and listened to his chanson. Was he performing especially for me?
My youthful disposition was romantic and I was attracted to him. At the same time, I could hear my mother’s voice: “I’m so proud to have brought up a good girl!” I didn’t move. When he was done with the song, he waved me over. I blushed but followed his hand. He grabbed mine and kissed it. I felt the touch of his soft lips. My skin everywhere reacted by turning prickly and my breathing intensified.
“Ma Cherie,” he whispered.
All of a sudden my body felt heavy and I pulled away. Caught between wanting to leave and wanting to stay, I sat down on a bistro chair.
“Please, I need a minute,” I uttered.
“Bien sûr!” he smiled.
He put his violin to his neck once again and with closed eyes, he played the sweetest melody riding through the air and penetrating the toughest disposition.
Paralyzed, I tried to think. Should I leave or should I stay? My sense of freedom had slowly vanished which made the decision so much harder. The guy was cute, romantic and talented.
A waiter came over and I asked for a café au lait. As more people gathered around to listen to the soft music, I started to relax. He didn’t sing again which made me feel special.
Immersed in the music, I let go of time. Slowly, the morning faded, noon hour came around, and with his violin case full of money, he sang out:
“La dernière chanson!”
From his slender body came Que je t’aime and I didn’t know where to look. My gaze fell on a young woman advancing hurriedly towards us and embodying a sense of pure joy. She stepped right up to my singer and kissed him on the mouth.
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?