Girls Goodbye (1 of 3) It’s 2 am on Friday morning and we just finished shooting Girls. Forever. No insert shots of cell phones or exteriors to grab. We’re not missing a quick shot of Shosh marching down a Soho street. We’re finished. We did it all. Jenni called that final cut, I dropped my costume on our van floors (sorry Kristen, sorry I never hang my damned costume) and we got into our vans to head home for the last time. To say I don't enjoy goodbyes is an understatement. But, as a wise woman once told me, "relish it. We so rarely get to choose our goodbyes." She's right. And we got to choose this one. But that doesn't mean it's easy-- I know I'm not alone in the Girls family when I say this is the end of the largest and most potent chapter of my life so far. Before Girls I had zero identity, zero self-love and an urgent sense of untapped creative desire that kept me up and sweating at night in other people's beds, wondering why vague sexual affirmation wasn’t enough to make me feel human. I had hardly an inkling of the responsibility we take on when we tell stories, or of the power words can have, but what I had- as an obsessed fan of shows from Girlfriends to Felicity to Ally McBeal- was the audacity to think that people might want to see women like my friends and me (broken, imperfect, angry) on television. When we shot our pilot six years ago, I never dreamed that I could be so fulfilled by the process of art-making, of collaboration, of honest expression. And so through this show I developed an identity, gained a new kind of family and began my life in earnest. It's an embarrassment of riches. There are too many essential personnel to name here, and the messages I have for them are far too intimate for this modern venue, but I trust I've made it clear who you are and what you mean to me. If I haven't, please feel free to demand explanations.

lenadunhamさん(@lenadunham)が投稿した動画 -

レナ・ダナムのインスタグラム(lenadunham) - 9月30日 14時57分


Girls Goodbye (1 of 3)

It’s 2 am on Friday morning and we just finished shooting Girls. Forever. No insert shots of cell phones or exteriors to grab. We’re not missing a quick shot of Shosh marching down a Soho street. We’re finished. We did it all. Jenni called that final cut, I dropped my costume on our van floors (sorry Kristen, sorry I never hang my damned costume) and we got into our vans to head home for the last time. To say I don't enjoy goodbyes is an understatement. But, as a wise woman once told me, "relish it. We so rarely get to choose our goodbyes." She's right. And we got to choose this one. But that doesn't mean it's easy-- I know I'm not alone in the Girls family when I say this is the end of the largest and most potent chapter of my life so far. Before Girls I had zero identity, zero self-love and an urgent sense of untapped creative desire that kept me up and sweating at night in other people's beds, wondering why vague sexual affirmation wasn’t enough to make me feel human. I had hardly an inkling of the responsibility we take on when we tell stories, or of the power words can have, but what I had- as an obsessed fan of shows from Girlfriends to Felicity to Ally McBeal- was the audacity to think that people might want to see women like my friends and me (broken, imperfect, angry) on television.

When we shot our pilot six years ago, I never dreamed that I could be so fulfilled by the process of art-making, of collaboration, of honest expression. And so through this show I developed an identity, gained a new kind of family and began my life in earnest. It's an embarrassment of riches. There are too many essential personnel to name here, and the messages I have for them are far too intimate for this modern venue, but I trust I've made it clear who you are and what you mean to me. If I haven't, please feel free to demand explanations.


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