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Fjaere's Diary
Fjaere's Diary
The other day I was sitting in the car, as the heat flooded the dashboard, and my sweatered body warmed like a tea cosy.
Sun insisting, beating, continuing, ubiquitously Californian. If you just listened to the sun, you'd do nothing all day, like a cat in a window. You wouldn't even worry about deficits or war or bills and expenses, poverty in most of the world, glaciers melting or species dying out. The sun probably knows more than we do, yet we are creatures of constant action, for to be still, too long, intimates our own mortality. I try not to think about things like death. I try to body-swerve violence, ugliness and negativity. Except in movies. "The Road" is about the end of the world. Most people might wonder why anyone would want to create a movie about how we blow everything up and destroy the earth. I wondered, too, but I went anyway. I am glad I did. Movies say what words cannot. Words can do great service and pay tribute to what we believe we should honour. But the repetition, of the same words, familiar "shoulds" in our lives, drones on and loses meaning. I guess writers are constantly trying to restate what might be the obvious, but to say so in a way that makes meaning new, perception fresh. The truth is that the depth of experience is wordless. Just like faith is wordless. Just like the most powerful things we know are language-less. Like the sun. Still, we keep trying to reach out, to communicate, to prove human beings are somehow intelligent, beyond the other members of the animal kingdom. If my words today remind you in any way of a warm feeling, the kind you might get in an overheated car on a December afternoon in Southern California, then I hope that feeling leads to someplace similar to my own, on that particular day. On that day came a moment of sheer, utter and breathless happiness. Draped over me, brief but glorious. I wish you such private powerful moments,unexpected, needing no explanation, there, and then gone, much like our own lives truly are. Not a lot, not long-lasting, yet somehow everything. Happy Holidays. Fjaere |
