October 3, 1997
Shooting: Last Day
My last full day was free: no work, no assignments, just myself and my thoughts.
I rode down to Santa Monica beach and sat at an outdoor café; a cup of thick California brew steaming under my chin. I filled out a few postcards and then, beneath the deep blue of the sky, went for a walk down the shore. Sea gulls flapped above and the sea broke in large, cool slaps. With the warm sand massaging my bare feet, I thought about the past week. As hard as I tried, it was difficult to make sense of all that had happened.
In all my years of Romero watching I'd never expected such an experience as this to come. Was I just lucky? Is dedication truly subject to karma? Whatever the reason, cosmic, real, or otherwise, I had been given a gift, one that I will carry with me for as long as I live. And for that, I will be forever grateful.