I think my dad was someone who really was comfortable with the kind of chaos and absurdity of life. He delighted in small things like a beautiful cup of tea and a book and he didn't need a lot to be happy. For him for him I think life was kind of meaningless and yet that didn't bother him you know it was part of its beauty is that we're just here for a minute. A lot of the film he's looking at this fly and imagining its thoughts and something like that would give my dad pleasure for weeks. His capacity to to just get lost in the joy of a thought or a concept and his excitement about being lost in his mind gave me so much happiness as