[last journal entry]
This action that I foresee has nothing to do with melodrama. It is that life, as lived by me now, is a series of exceptions. I was , or am, not unique - but special. This is why I was an artist. I was inventing a language for people to see the everyday things that I also see, and show them something different. Nothing to do with not being able 'to take it' in the big city, or with self-doubt or because my heart is gone. And not to teach people a lesson. Simply the other side.
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Her parents are absolutely awful people. I was interested in Francesca's life and work and the film focuses mainly on her parents, who are just self-absorbed, truly abhorrent rich people ("artists") with no hearts. Brother is pretty bad, too. They aren't ashamed to express jealousy over the posthumous success of their dead daughter. Her dad even attempts to copy her work and not in a honorable kind of way. The comment the dad made about how he would "hate" his child if they weren't interested in art basically shows you what kind of people they are. "There's a little coffin. I'm afraid some poor child has departed" is one of the last lines of the doc, spoken by George as he sees a casket go by in Asia. What kind of weird comment is that? So flippant. I hate to say this knowing the outcome, but no wonder she suffered so much in life. I would, too, if those people were my caregivers who were supposed to love me and instead viewed me as an object secondary to their sculptures.
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