– The Big Time

You’re in the south of France.

You arrive on the TGV, in a bit of a blur…

Right, where’s your place then. Christ, you hope you haven’t been conned. You walk out of the station, get lost in two minutes. How do you get lost in Cannes when you’ve been there ten times. You just do. But up the hill you go, eventually, get there, find the place…believe you me, well away from the hoy palloy.

Not bad, you think, for something off the Internet, okay, away from the action, on the other side of the train line, but it has a beautiful garden…

A bit Graham Greenish, even. But you are here to work, not to sit in a garden deck chair, sip pink gins, complain about being an Anglophone abroad all day long. You are here to take photos. You get started right away..

Get the writing tools set up…

Right then, down to the Croisette..

To do what? Gawk at the stars…

Where are the stars anyway? Up on bill boards or hiding in hotels. Maybe the key is to be a star yourself…get yourself somehow onto one of these bill boards even…but how do you do that?

You could simulate the process..

Or take a leaf out of the books of others, mix in with the media..

Wait, maybe you don’t look the part. Do  you need a special pair of shoes, a hat even?

At these prices, forget it. But you know how to climb all over the competition, get head and shoulders above the crowd.

But what are you looking for anyway, or at, what do you hope to see?

Is cinema just another empty business?

Or is that all just a bit too serious.

What to do? You could dress up, give someone a laugh, at least..

Or get drunk…

…or find yourself an empty chair.

Stare at the scenery..

…yr mind all out to sea.

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