Richard Lawson is a personal inspiration on how to beautifully craft sentences full of meaning, imagery and humor. Â I could “listen” to his words about anything. Â It’s shocking to kind of pick up on the fact that he seems very insecure about so much in his personal life – I’d think he’d be one of those guys at every NYC party entertaining the masses gathered round.
His rundown of his first experience at the Cannes Film Festival as a Vanity Fair writer is just magical. Â I wanted to fall into the page and be there. Â He’s such a masterful writer. Â If my website was a stack of pages, I’d somehow feel compelled to grab sheets of it at a time and just rip it to shreds as it just feels so lifeless and empty in comparison. Â My discovery of that Tumblr post’s description of France coincided with my travelogue posting from yesterday though and reignited that urge to be somewhere new and foreign and unable to understand nearly everything being said around you. Â Must…go….now!
I leave you a quote from his post –
Iâ€™m a liar for being here. Thatâ€™s what I spend a lot of the week thinking. What am I doing here? Everyone else, literally everyone else, belongs here, knows what theyâ€™re doing, fits into this opulent jumble in some crucial way. I meet other writers who speak in a language I barely understand, casual, familiar references to directors and oeuvres and styles and influences that make me feel like a dumb kid with a Blockbuster card. Is there a word for how smugness disappears, the way it sickly, sadly evaporates out of your body? Because that is what I feel at Cannes (in Cannes).
Yep, Richard, you and me both, but it’s your writing that is the impetus for “that word” with me. Â Not worthy!