Look for me after I die I’m coming back as a cello All the emotions intact With cool low sawing notes Heart rising in the throat Brought to near ecstasy By the sweet caress of Yo-Yo Ma Gently drawing the seductive tones From my spruce and poplar heart With his pernambuco slow bow
Notes of longing contentment Disappointment Haunting darkness and spiccato joy My next life of pure passion The giving and receiving of it Back and forth artistry Cruel agony hot caustic erotic The darkness and joy Rich romantic vibrato Of me The cello
I recall the sound of dried bougainvillea petals scuttling down narrow ancient stone steps whispering pink petals bunched at each crooked turn
Altea held in time along the Costa Blanca haunted by ghostly Moors and feral cats who roam the harbour in search of a tossed off cuttlefish
Altea, rising in stark whiteness up up to its blue and gold heavenly dome where balconies of primordial tears flow down on Mediterranean blue
Are we the center of everything? Can we be the center without disrupting other centers? Smashing into each other, again and again. Ego against ego. Id against id. Timing is everything. Crashing into someone else’s time. Knocking that time off kilter like a shot blocker, like someone who moves the target, the goal posts, the field of drama, over and over again . . . .
March was an especially good month for DVD releases. Watched Jonathan Demme’s Rachel Getting Married, and was knocked out by the realism, depth and honesty on display. It, too, dealt with the impact of pity (among many other things) on our lives and ties in well with Zweig’s book.… |To be Continued “Real So Real”
A bit of synchronicity and chance today. About half way through Zweig’s excellent Beware of Pity, I decided to take a break and watch The Cake Eaters, primarily because Kristen Stewart is in it. Almost right from the start, I could see her role echoed Zweig’s story in some important ways. Stefan Zweig’s novel centers on a young woman who is paralyzed, and befriended by a young lieutenant in the Austro-Hungarian army. Befriended, at first, because of his sense of pity, duty, honor, guilt. Because he had asked her to dance at a lavish party, not knowing she was too crippled to.… |To be Continued “Letting go of Pity”
Kate Bush’s first album came out when she was just 20 years old, in 1978. She had been “discovered” prior to that by David Gilmour, of Pink Floyd fame. I imagine it wasn’t that difficult to notice how unusual she was, how eccentric, cerebral, gifted, and glowingly strange. Many of my favorite female singer/songwriters from the 90s were influenced a great deal by her. Milla Jovovich, Tori Amos, and P.J. Harvey, especially. And she was quite the buzz in the literary circles of two colleges I attended. Which made sense. Sound and sense. Kate Bush utilized literary sources for many of her songs, and recently contributed to the songtrack of The Golden Compass.… |To be Continued “Elegant, Passionate Witchery”
Baffling, surreal, and haunting, Synecdoche, New York presents a world within a world, a stage within a stage, doubled, tripled, extended, bounded and unbounded by dream logic and existential dread. It is a film that needs to be seen more than once. More than twice. I know because I watched it yesterday for the first time . . .
and it’s still banging around in my head.
Charlie Kaufman, the writer behind Being John Malkovich; Adaptation; and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, directs for the first time from his own script. And it’s a Vianesque doozy.… |To be Continued “All the World’s a Stage”
I’ve Loved you for so Long is not a movie for everyone. As has been noted perhaps a billion times, we live in a culture with mounting pressure for quick payoffs, and our attention spans have shrunk. This brilliant film takes its time. It builds up story elements slowly, develops its characters and their relationships with great care, nuance and subtlety, and never hits you over the head with messages or symbols or histrionics. It treats you like an adult. The subject matter could easily call for endless scene chewing and heightened melodrama, but the director, Phillippe Claudel (a novelist and professor of Literature at the University of Nancy), chooses a different path.… |To be Continued “Suppressed Internal Dimensions”