My goal was nothing about film today, but…
Come join me on a morning ramble, the scraps for little journeys started, and not finished. The ponders and the wonders from this past week or was it the one before, the little bits that feel like poetry or a gentle touch, that smile from the thing that you thought could not communicate, but now you’ve cracked their secret language. I love to just freely write with no intent but to be true and pehaps a bit more precise and accurate. Even when it is just here and there, in bits and drabs, surges and stabs. Look out wide and just gaze at the horizon. What is the promise that it gives?
I love that we've misunderstood starfish for so long. They are more a “disembodied head walking about the sea floor on its lips” than something with five arms.
It gives me hope that maybe one day I will understand my friends & family. They say somehow it lost its torso. There are certainly days when I feel I have lost my head.
And let’s be clear too, they are but another victim in our misnaming so much. They are not fish. We should not call them fish. Call them Sea Stars. And don’t say the sun sets either. Let’s use language that works. I have been working on a post about this…
We need an indie film renaming project. I am inspired this regard by the bird renaming project; it’s about time they dropped their human names. After that we can get started on a total naming project. We need to give things names to understand they exist. There are so many feelings and attitudes that remain diffuse because we don’t know what to call them. Like this thing I feel every morning before my coffee kicks in but I can feel my brain trying to latch on to something good, something inspiring, something that will lead me in the real direction I need to head.
Do you dream of being able to be in a different place in a fingersnap of an instant? I do. I need a transporter. I love reading about a place and wanting to visit it. I like the thought that I could travel with no carbon footprint, with no concern that we are ruining this planet for others still to come. Could I just blink and find myself in Paris, immersed in the big Rothko show? Sure, I feel my days like the end of Jason Farago’s NYT’s review of the show, just from walking my suburban streets, sunlight dappling, but yeah, perhaps a deep dive back into Rothko is what I need most right now. “Awe, love, fear, faith, emptiness, immanence, infinity, eternity: Are these not the whole reason we bother with form in the first place? On most days I find it faintly ridiculous to try to locate such grand themes in a spume of green or a blood-red fog. On other days, days like now, I find it ridiculous to get through life without them.”
Thinking of going to Paris to see so many Rothko’s, and as he thought best, makes me dream of what would be the ultimate tour of human creativity. What would you be sure to see? How could it be done on a manageable and affordable basis? Could we give us the time to do this in our lives? Beyond checking a box, what would we accomplish? I have never been to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Falling Water. But then again would my eye ever see it as well as Ezra Stoller‘s photo does? Would the sheer presence be life-changing? Would I be let down if it wasn’t? What would be on that list?
Mine would definitely include a stop at the Dylan museum. Bob’s a bit of a trouble spot for me though. Why? Well, does an individual artist’s output truly inspire or does it hold us back too?
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