It is eerie being all but alone in Westminster Abbey. Without the tourists, there are only the dead, many of them kings and queens. They speak powerfully and put my thoughts into vivid perspective.
I suffer from and enjoy an incredibly vivid dream life. A lot of times there is a sort of narrative, and other times they are just funhouses of non-linear imagery and other scary stuff.
I remember vividly one distinct memory of arriving in Hong Kong and being the only blonde haired girl in this sea of international students, and thinking, 'Oh, my God. There's no hiding here.'
For me, the vast marvel is to be alive. For man, or for flowers or beast or bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly and perfectly alive.
Life feels more vivid in a conflict zone. It is clear what matters, and who you can count on, for what.
The beauty of Maine is such that you can't really see it clearly while you live there. But now that I've moved away, with each return it all becomes almost hallucinatory: the dark blue water, the rocky coast with occasional flashes of white sand, the jasper stone beaches along the coast, the pine and fir forests somehow vivid in their stillness.
As the years go by and I make more films, I am increasingly interested in capturing place as a vivid backdrop for my films.
However, my problems with my memory are further complicated by the fact that while I don't have any recollection of things I have actually done, I have very vivid recollections of loads of things that I haven't done.
A strong emotion, especially if experienced for the first time, leaves a vivid memory of the scene where it occurred.
My earliest memories were on the cattle stations up in the Outback. And then we moved back to Melbourne and then back out there and then back again. Probably my most vivid memories were up there in Bulman with crocodiles and buffalo.
