Home !

I was miserable. Stranded in my own little ice hell, freezing every single cell of my exhausted body. Would ever be warm again ? As I carved the huge letters in the snow with my shovel, panting, the wind whipped my face. Silence surrounded me, a reverent lack of noise echoed by the crew who stood further away, trying to keep their hands from the biting cold. We didn’t speak, didn’t exchange looks. I was oblivious to their presence, full ensconced in my actor bubble, alone in the world.

And while, in the afternoon, I stood upon the loneliest hill of Iceland, Frances’ words came back to me. ‘You don’t have anything to prove to anyone, right ?’ Her words had not been harsh, they didn’t mean to hurt me, only to understand. And here, stranded in an ice storm with only a few cameras around, I couldn’t only wonder why my heart ached so much.