How did we get here?
How the hell..pan left--close on the steeple of the church. How did I get here, how the hell?
Christmas! Christmas eve, last year. I could a night so frozen be so scalding hot? How can a morning
this mild be so raw? Why are entire years strewn on the cutting room floor of memory as single frames
of one magic night forever flicker in close up on the 3-D Imax of my mind. Thats poetic- thats
pathetic. Why did Mimi knock on Roger's door? and Collins choose that phone booth back where Angel
set up his drums. Why did Maureen's equiptment break down? Why am I the witness and when I capture it
on film does it mean that its the end and I'm alone.