Wednesday, April 11, 2007
If I Could Do Just One Near-Perfect Thing, I'd Be Happy
[This was supposed to be published about a week ago, but I forgot. Because I'm an idiot, that's why. Now shut up and read it.]I saw a film last night. Blow-Up, it was called. By the Italian director, Michelango Antonioni. (Yeah, one of them Eyetalian art films). Came out in 1966 and made a deep impression. It was... well, I don't know how to describe it. Evocative. Spooky. Awe-inspiring. Humdrum words like great, cool, awesome, etc., don't even begin to cover it. It's so sad that today's society has taken a word like "awesome," which really refers to something so awe-inspiring that you're shaking with the sheer wonder and terror of it, and turned it into something drab and everyday. Taken something of great value, and made it valueless. Which, now that I think about it, actually has a lot to do with the movie. What is valuable, and what is not. What's lasting. What really exists.
As you can tell, I loved the movie. I was completely absorbed by it, to the point of forgetting my own existence. Which Antonioni would probably take as a compliment, since the film is mainly about existences and reality. Ostensibly, it's about a murder mystery, but it's really so much more. A fairly accurate synopsis would be "Blow-Up: A murder mystery... or is it?" As my Dad put it, "It contains more philosophy than ten Matrixes." Without the cop-out of a shitty computer system.
Even on the surface, though. The film epitomizes the '60's. The photographer dude, the main character, is about as '60's as you can get. So's everything in the movie. Sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll, it's all there. With the Yardbirds and the first onstage guitar-smashing ever thrown in. It jumpstarted the '60's in London, and I can see why. The sound of wind in the trees will never be the same to me. In fact, I don't think I'll be going outside on dark windy nights for quite some time.
I don't want to say too much about the movie, though, because you really should just see it without knowing anything about it. Just let it sink in. And, believe me, it will.
So on to other topics. I hung out with Fishy last Thursday, because good ol' Easter break had started. We had a good time together, although we thoroughly depressed ourselves that night by watching Brideshead Revisited and having conversations that were far too serious. Easter itself came and went. Catherine cooked a huge dinner, which was incredibly good. Rebecca and her boyfriend, John, came home, which meant the whole family was here. Easter Monday was great, because I didn't have school, so I got to have the house to myself all day. I stayed in my pajamas till 5 o'clock in the afternoon. That's how life should be lived.
Yesterday school started again. And life became depressing once more. Not to mention, the weather's really strange. It was snowing on Friday. No, you don't understand. This is April! In Georgia! But it was colder here on Easter than it was on Christmas! And that's just not fucking right! Not that I mind all that much. I like cold weather. It suits me. Cold, crisp, and sunny, that is. Not cold, mushy, and foggy. Like today. You might as well be walking in a cloud.
And believe me, walking in a cloud is not as romantic as it sounds. It's wet and grey. Just adds to the bleakness of waking up pointlessly early, going to a pointless school, and plodding to pointless classes which are becoming totally irrelevant as our last day of school approaches ever so slowly. Eventually it will come, however, and then we will be through with this place forever. Then we'll be off to college. And then the future, with all its adult cares and responsibilities will bare its teeth and pounce, much like the Assyrian who came down like a wolf on the fold. Sigh.
I've come to realize that my ambition in life is not to work. It's not that I'm so supremely lazy, but I have better things to do with my time. Like write. I want to spend my time creating works like Blow-Up. But my own. I want to give people that feeling that comes right after you encounter something good. Or true, or beautiful. I realize how vague that sounded. But I really can't find the words to describe it. Sense of fulfillment, I guess.
Then I will ride in my personal cherrypicker and ponder reality on my own terms. While picking off the neighbors with a sniper rifle. Hee hee.
Spudge at 3:44 PM
1 Comments
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at April 30, 2007 10:26 PM
Abused Mollusc said... Yay! Me too.