Miryam is good with words. She helped me compress an avalanche of words into a perfect snowball. Round. Clear. Precise. But she also taught me to throw that snowball – hard and without regret – when form became more important than content. To throw it and see which flakes stuck to which ideas, and why. I cherish our walks in northern France.
The endless fields where our senses settled on a branch or a forgotten stone. But also the artwork at the bottom of the stairs where I got lost time and again. The sea of perfectly organised lying around art books and sketches that whispered: Look here, if you can’t remember anything. The smell of coffee, always served in a different cup, as if doubt could also exist in porcelain. Our conversations, balancing between age-old ideas and brand-new doubts. And the storm, which belonged to it – as storms belong to old castles.
What do you leave out? What do you keep? What grows when you let go?That became our biggest exercise. The core of the creative documentary Better than Gold. And the core of our writing process. She helped me find the words for the story that already existed inside me – without ever imposing anything. Her magic is that she makes you believe they were your own words all along. But anyone who ever spent time with her with their script, like me, knows better.
