I miss a lot of things.
I miss sitting on my old director's chair, viewing my monitors, barking instructions over my headset.
I miss looking into the camera lens and trying to translate descriptions in the script into the technical view to make it palatable to the taste of the viewing public.
I miss writing screenplays.
I miss the veterans and oldies of showbiz who have become my mentors. Most of them are dead.
I miss stretching out on those 'tindahan-style-bangkos' that you have no choice but to lie your back on in remote shooting locations.
I miss eating with the production crew with their 'ga-ulo ng pusang subo' of food in trays.
I miss the toxic post-prod editings, dubbings and sound mixing. Hard to make sure that lip movement matches the voice.
I miss the walk-out scenes when I am pissed off artists who think they are larger than life.
I miss my power belt bag that I often use in shoots. Inside it: smokes and lighter (that I prolly unconsciously 'borrowed' from a crew member but never returned), a nifty pocket notebook (that has scribbles that haven't been read again) , pen (that I prolly unconsciously got from the Production Assistant), crumpled receipts (of course! for reimbursement purposes; to roll funds to get me another tall, caramel macchiato, java chip or moccha frap) and a small bottle of 70% isopropyl alcohol (not only for hand sanitation but more importantly to pour into eekie yucchy public toilet bowls that you have no choice but to use under very, very pressing situations; instant sanitation-after pouring into the bowl rim, light immediately with the lighter and voila! Some germs and bacteria, dead. Not all of it though...but at least...naman!)
I don't know if I would be able to do another film here or abroad in the near future. Film making in the Philippines is locked to a chosen few who have millions for production and promotions.
Until then, my chair shall be inside my closet. Dusty, sad and waiting for that chance to finally feel my big buns stretching the seams again...
