Sarah is a recovering meth addict.
She is also my sister.
This is her story.
I always experience a wave of mixed feelings when I come back to Fargo. A combination of shock from how cold (winter) or hot (summer) it is, relief from the stress of the grind, and a sense of falling back into a place strangely unaffected by time. I take the same roads home as I did in high school: west on I-94, get off at the University exit, hang a right on 18th avenue, left on 9th street and straight down to the end. I hug the corners like old friends. Light punches through the canopy of elm trees, now sparse from dutch elm disease. As the intertwining limbs pass over my head, they become a tunnel back into my childhood.
As I pass through town, I see the places which once held great significance for me: my grade school, the hospital where I was born, the church I grew up in. They look different, have new additions, larger parking lots, and so on. I guess these structures are much like myself — I have my foundation, the things I grew up with, the way I was raised. As time went by, outside elements have worn me down, and new experiences have added to my life and identity. But that initial structure still stands as it did when I was first built; my child form is still here, only altered.
During this trip I hope to delve into that childhood: what formative experiences I had with Sarah, my sister, and my entire family, and how these experiences affected the trajectory of our lives thereafter.
Debbie Cerda mentioned the film and posted the trailer, alongside good friend Kat Candler.
In one week cinematographer E.J. Enriquez and I are headed north to Fargo for our last shooting session. We’ll be posting daily about our experiences, who we meet and what we do!
Theme by Lauren Ashpole