A few stints in the film industry have led to the witness of what is ultimately earnest piety to one’s project, where this marriage does not leave you in solitude until your project is literalized. You sleep with it, struggle with it, love it, grow with it. That said, the distance in reading about
Krystal’s project does not have the intense proximity to witnessing the physical paper work Krystal carries around (in a blue binder), the grateful contributions next to my mattress on the apartment floor, the text messaging that flies between herself and her actors, and meeting the talent involved in the craft, all of which is a culminated awe of the beauty Krystal is producing in the Philippines.
She told me when angels get bored at night, they write your nightmares.
Marisol, by José Rivera
Later in the evening, Krystal took me to see a performance at the university directed by a local student she had previously collaborated with. I jokingly told her that I’ve never seen so many Filipinos on stage. It has been a while since I’ve sat in a theater to see a play, so you can only imagine what seeing my first was like in an established university in the Philippines, with a talented cast comprised of actors as young as 17 years old.
Just visiting? start from the beginning.