I truly enjoyed watching 1917 tonight. I left the theater feeling inspired and impressed and just beholden to the images imprinted on me. The graveyard of cannons and shells. The soldiers slowly moving into the farm field. The whitestone of the trenches. The continuity of beginning and end.
Roger Deakins is a master of his craft. And as I was watching his masterpiece, I imagined what it would be like to be that good, that skilled, that visionary. How much work, effort, sweat, failure it took to get to that point. How much courage it took.
I imagine myself being courageous easily. I used to daydream about it. But it’s the hardest thing to be.
The Rootlets 