Every once and a while I find myself caught up in an overwhelming outburst of unidentified emotions that can only seem to manifest themselves physically. The root emotion is there, beneath it all, but on top of that is a bombardment of physical sensation.
Tonight, I'm in a storm. Dark, curtains of lace wrap around me, as if to embrace, and when they spiral away, I found myself caught in their hooks: my skin tears away like fragile tissue paper, leaving me open and exposed. I've always found a warm rain enjoyable, but this one is cold. Slick, wet rocks claw at the soles of my feet, standing somehow on a cove above an illicit, angry ocean. Nothing exists beyond the waves but an empty, bleak darkness.
I am pummeled relentlessly. Each moment I think I can gasp a slice of air I'm yanked in the other direction. The surrender, here, echoes of no relief. Instead, I lie in the wake of hopelessness. Give in: the provocation is all around me. And yet, I am fighting. Clawing despite my fingernails being ripped from their base. This could all be over, this could all be over. Why am I still fighting?
"Truth" --Balmorhea (All is Wild, All is Silent)
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Changing Direction
Perhaps my attention span is limited, but I've found that I could not keep up with a blog. At least, not pertaining to film production. And who am I to pretend I am a master filmmaker?
So, I've decided to change directions. Back to something I knew long before how to pull focus: words. After all, before I was a filmmaker, I was a writer... it's something I've been meaning to spend more time with for a while.
One of the most difficult questions I've ever been asked is what sort of music I am into. I don't believe my musical taste can really be defined. I have a collection of music that I can truly get lost in. I fall into the texture, the movement of a piece. The emotion behind the notes sometimes become overwhelming to me, manifesting itself in a physical fashion. I very rarely listen. I lay on my bed, or sometimes the floor, and experience music. I allow it to move my limbs and body in somewhat of a dance-like way. The sensations of this music have physical, mental, and emotional waves that roll throughout my body. This is all something I experience simply by losing myself to sound.
Today, I am experiencing "Svanire" - a contemporary classical piece by Ludovico Einaudi.
An advantage I have, here, is that I do not speak Italian, and so do not know (at least to start) what "Svanire" means. This allows the music to live through me with complete freedom and no preconceived notions.
From the very first notes, Svanire gives me solitude. A deep green surrounded by pale blue. Humidity. My eyes roll back in my head, and I slowly exhale a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. From there, it's about liquidity. If you've ever experienced a warm, but heavy, rain shower you will know the temperature I'm talking about. Become drenched in it, let it even permeate your skin soak right into your essence. The freedom of this surrender is intoxicating. The water surrounds you, becomes you. Float.
Picture it. Dew drops on sprigs of greenery. The humidity is thick, nearly suffocating. Let it slide along your arms, as if wrapping you in the safe embrace of a lover: hands entangled in your hair and at the back of your neck, keeping you in such away that you could not possibly fall into harm.
In water tendrils of hair flair out. They individualize. A single hair can reach out, curl, dance on its own away from the body. In such away, you are surrounded entirely by a ballet of life. Stretch, shudder, shiver. A breath fills the lungs with the lightness of clouds. Rise up. Let your body curl as hair does in water. Surrender.
Now, having experienced the music, my curiosity will get the better of me. "Svanire," in Italian, has six meanings: to fade, to disappear, to deaden, to vanish, to wither, to evanescence. This contrasts entirely with my experience with the song.
Does the song truly reflect the intent of the writer, or does it breathe its own life? Perhaps my interpretation is wrong. The video listed on Einaudi's lastfm page shows images of a fetus. I stopped watching midway through it because it, as the word Svanire means, killed my experience.
Or perhaps my vision, too, was about an ending. I felt a sense of surrender and acceptance. While I felt a warm sense of safety, there is no way to say if that is a beginning or an ending of some other emotions. Regardless, the exploration of the piece leaves me with a sensation of exhaustion, as the climax of an emotional and physical experience often does. I hope that you, too, can experience something similar by listening.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naiu-of7J80
So, I've decided to change directions. Back to something I knew long before how to pull focus: words. After all, before I was a filmmaker, I was a writer... it's something I've been meaning to spend more time with for a while.
One of the most difficult questions I've ever been asked is what sort of music I am into. I don't believe my musical taste can really be defined. I have a collection of music that I can truly get lost in. I fall into the texture, the movement of a piece. The emotion behind the notes sometimes become overwhelming to me, manifesting itself in a physical fashion. I very rarely listen. I lay on my bed, or sometimes the floor, and experience music. I allow it to move my limbs and body in somewhat of a dance-like way. The sensations of this music have physical, mental, and emotional waves that roll throughout my body. This is all something I experience simply by losing myself to sound.
Today, I am experiencing "Svanire" - a contemporary classical piece by Ludovico Einaudi.
An advantage I have, here, is that I do not speak Italian, and so do not know (at least to start) what "Svanire" means. This allows the music to live through me with complete freedom and no preconceived notions.
From the very first notes, Svanire gives me solitude. A deep green surrounded by pale blue. Humidity. My eyes roll back in my head, and I slowly exhale a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. From there, it's about liquidity. If you've ever experienced a warm, but heavy, rain shower you will know the temperature I'm talking about. Become drenched in it, let it even permeate your skin soak right into your essence. The freedom of this surrender is intoxicating. The water surrounds you, becomes you. Float.
Picture it. Dew drops on sprigs of greenery. The humidity is thick, nearly suffocating. Let it slide along your arms, as if wrapping you in the safe embrace of a lover: hands entangled in your hair and at the back of your neck, keeping you in such away that you could not possibly fall into harm.
In water tendrils of hair flair out. They individualize. A single hair can reach out, curl, dance on its own away from the body. In such away, you are surrounded entirely by a ballet of life. Stretch, shudder, shiver. A breath fills the lungs with the lightness of clouds. Rise up. Let your body curl as hair does in water. Surrender.
Now, having experienced the music, my curiosity will get the better of me. "Svanire," in Italian, has six meanings: to fade, to disappear, to deaden, to vanish, to wither, to evanescence. This contrasts entirely with my experience with the song.
Does the song truly reflect the intent of the writer, or does it breathe its own life? Perhaps my interpretation is wrong. The video listed on Einaudi's lastfm page shows images of a fetus. I stopped watching midway through it because it, as the word Svanire means, killed my experience.
Or perhaps my vision, too, was about an ending. I felt a sense of surrender and acceptance. While I felt a warm sense of safety, there is no way to say if that is a beginning or an ending of some other emotions. Regardless, the exploration of the piece leaves me with a sensation of exhaustion, as the climax of an emotional and physical experience often does. I hope that you, too, can experience something similar by listening.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=naiu-of7J80
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