Maybe it's the weather, or maybe it's the over-production of insulin from pounds of leftover Halloween candy, but I am pining for the Festival. It all happened so quickly. One minute I was basking in the reflected glory of our fantastic Newfoundland filmmakers at the Film forum, the Majestic and the Arts and Culture Centre, and the next I was duking it out with an SUV on Water Street for the only parking spot within shouting distance of the lonely, lonely Festival office.
But wait, as I write all this, I am feeling a glimmer of the excitement from the Film Forum featuring fantastic forerunners in Film and Television - what a thrill to share in the conversations with luminaries like Camelia Frieberg, Anne Marie Laplante, Tom Alexander and Carol Whiteman. And isn't that the tingle from opening night with Down To The Dirt and the amazing Mark Bragg. I still haven't washed the hand that shook director Justin Simm's hand, or the cheek that producer Anna Petras kissed, or the eyes that beheld principal actor and author Joel Hynes, or the shoulders that luxuriated in a hug from actor Phil Churchill.
Perhaps this miasma isn't post-festival depression, perhaps I need a shower.

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