here i am.
my last sundance film fest was 2019 (my 10th). i skipped the 2020 festival to give myself a writing retreat in key west, florida. at the time, i wanted to make sure i didn’t operate on autopilot, didn’t do anything because it’s A Thing I Do. but that was before the world fell apart. since then, i wondered but did not regret the decision.
there is more snow here than i’ve ever seen; all the locals say this is what it used to look like before the drought. i still love to look at it: feet and feet of white stuff. i am less impervious to cold than i used to be. this festival, i am working outside. i’ve learned a lot about layering and, as usual, i packed impractically because (despite roxanne gay’s wisdom), i’m hell-bent on traveling with only carry-on luggage. working at a bus stop during a film festival is like two special interests intersecting (three if you count the birds in the trees above the stop—magpies and starlings).
would you believe that entire people you house with or work with for weeks, just vanish out of your memory until you encounter them again? still, there are so few familiar faces here. i’ve made a few new connections and my novelty-loving brain is getting a workout. the first two days, almost everyone i talked to was visiting from another country and had never attended the festival before. but it’s notably quieter. a lot of sponsors backed out, and there is no music venue or immersive/vr showcase. some screenings (especially press & industry) are nearly empty. it’s hard to say whether the online component will keep the fest alive, force a pivot, or be the final nail in the coffin.
yesterday, someone told me the film industry is recession proof. since i’ve been here, c. got laid off, and the company i started working for in november furloughed the entire staff, reduced our salaries by half. we didn’t see either of these things coming in january 2023; in fact, this was supposed to be the slow-and-steady year, the north star year, the long game year. instead, it’s something else. i think the word is destabilizing, but there are other words, too.
i do have some better news—truly exciting news, actually—but i’ll save it for the next newsletter. in the meantime, i hope you are all taking care, hunkering down, and remembering to breathe. life is sometimes a phenomenon.
with love,
rhienna