June 3, 1997

A mysterious woman with an accent has been calling for me the last few days, leaving no messages and making Donna vaguely uneasy. Today the woman called again and got the answering machine: instead of being a stalker or a telemarketer, she's a representative of the San Sebastian Film Festival. She had heard from someone at the American Cinematheque in Los Angeles that my film was "terrific" and wants to send me an application to this year's festival. Neato. I wonder who recommended the film to her.

The negative cutter's assistant called me last week to tell me that they needed to get my unused negative and video dailies out of their office right away. I believe it's usual for negative cutters to hang on to those materials until the filmmaker sees the first print and is sure that the negative won't have to go back for more work. But I'm used to having unsatisfactory dealings with them by now. On my lunch hour today I picked up the materials and carted them down to my storage space--not an ideal location for preserving film and video stock, but renting space in real film storage vaults is a bit pricey, and I think I'll postpone that expense until I need to protect the cut negative.

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