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| Thursday, June 17, 2004 |
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A few things I feel I need to say…
Last night I felt inspiration hit me like a two-pound dumbbell on my noggin. It reeked of familiar tastes and wonder of introspection. Blow one came when I saw jim’s short film called Afterlife, knockout number two came when I heard Val recite her poem and the third came in minuscule spurts compounded into a few silent murmurs of my old wounds from listening to  Bantercut Strategy’s songs.
As I was sitting inside sam’s apartment listening to Bantercut’s practice session I had written to Debbie of how my exposure to so much baring-of-souls in the past few weeks has fueled my creative juices that sometimes I feel to much to bear inside. But like a balloon with the opening shut tight, I can’t let it flow. What if I’m not supposed to? Could it be that I am rewarded with all of these for the only purpose that is introspection and not necessarily expression? Do I owe it to anyone to speak of thoughts in my head when I don’t feel like it? Like Val’s poem said, words would limit these intense feelings. Semantics cannot diminish its actuality and it shouldn’t have to be that way.
This afternoon I read a surprisingly revelatory article in Elle magazine of all things. I had noticed it existed for weeks now but had only read it today – maybe because it had such a dumb title of “Ethan Hawke on why men fall out of love”. Geezus. Is that supposed to make me buy the magazine? But I just bought it for Scarlett Johansson on the cover so go figure.
I was wondering whether the Ethan Hawke interview would just be a defensive piece or not. Apparently its because they’re doing a sequel to Before Sunrise. And I quote “the movie beautifully conveys what it’s like to immediately connect with someone, the frightening romantic free fall into another person that can – paradoxically – accompany moments of profound self-revelation.” And this Mensa member has his moments. The conversation between him and the writer is like an episode of your own life when you’re with a friend that instinctively makes you want to talk and listen. I know someone like that. No topic too shallow, no topic too profound. With the intense look of interest and enough of comfortable silences to give chances to breath and stillness. Hawke says “Most of the time when people break up, they just go on to meet the same demon with a new face. Usually it’s not the other person you can’t live with but yourself. So there’s a strong case to be made for staying in the relationship and looking that demon in the eyes.”
Too many demons in my subconscious. And these are great guys by the way. One gives me great conversation, another satisfaction. Almost all of them have claimed a connection. But they can’t give me what I want. The one who holds me when I sleep or looks at me from across the room. The one who eagerly experiences my life with me, not just asks me to talk about it – engages with my friends and family – the way I try to do with theirs. So I have been free falling down different cliffs of other people’s lives. Because I sincerely enjoyed it. But it’s probably about time that I hold out for that someone who will hold my hand and we both jump.
Running down a central reservation.
Last night's red dress
And I can still smell you on my fingers and taste you on my breath.
Stepping through brilliant shades of the color you bring
But this time, this time, this time
Is whatever I want it to mean.
- Central Reservation by Beth Orton |
posted by maldita @ 3:29 PM
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