Skip to main content

Movies -- "Spa Night"

I like business.  The table is arranged, or I hear dishes being scrubbed.  The camera moves in to the wall so the light can breathe.  In the background also they inhale and exhale; towels scrape their skin. "Pan over all the traffic on the street; see the grass and hear the shuffle of shoes over cement."  -- Right now it could be the rhythm of fingers and keys, the key-hole in the coffee-can, two pill bottles that just happen to be where they are, the stapler, above, I never use, a tube of cream in front of it, lying on its side, the air conditioner's remote control.  Lists of objects and a catalog of their relationships has an appeal.  The more details, the closer I get to what's real.  So a TV screen is just a window, a wandering eye.  It looks at us from a distance, but consistently, with due attention.  It is close enough so that we can hear each other speak, but far enough away to keep us from speaking to anyone but ourselves.  Everything can be represented, but what's represented should endure.  Most of all, it should be itself, and it receives no help from instruments.  A boy who is distressed scrapes himself with the sponge until his skin is raw.  A boy who is ashamed and angry shoves the owner's keys back at him on the desk.  Everything is recorded and presented without comment.  I'm drawn in because I want to see, and that I see is all of the request.  No one understands what has been faithfully recorded, but the anatomy of it is laid bare for all to inspect.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

To Witness That Such Things As Monuments Are Possible (Saying "Hello")

It's been such a long time since I've written anything.  That phrase ought never to be used in the first line of a composition -- as a matter both of ethics and of style.  But if I'm to begin again at all, I have to begin with the first thought that strikes me, and given what I am beginning, the first thought that strikes me is that. I am clearing my throat before I speak or testing out my voice.  It was much the same thing to say to myself again and again "Hello" when I was young -- just to assure myself that I could speak.  It is honesty, anyway, and it is a true record.  But wouldn't it be odd to come across the memorial of a man, each of whose entries began, "It has been such a long time since I have remembered...?"  This is meditation in the way that I know it -- repeatedly catching oneself.  This awareness comes and goes in waves -- in waves, perhaps, it builds into something deeper.  Or else it just subsides and reappears.  But that is...

Self, Past, Nature

Know what you are.  Live without dreams and without pride.  Do not boast, do not savor your accomplishments.  Enjoy what you enjoy, recognize that you enjoy it, and build that into happiness.  Try to divine from your feelings if you are healthy, and if it is health, thrive -- but if it is not health, make amends.  Nature should show you the way: a sick body makes itself known.  A sick mind is restless. The difficult thing is to establish the proper habits.  Many things that seem impossible at first can become second nature, but you must struggle to make them become so. As for the past, it is not good to dwell on it -- at least as a comparison.  Either you will feel nostalgia when you think on happiness that is now past, or you will feel humiliation at your failures.  The only proper way to think of the past is as a kind of lesson.  If it does not teach you what you should do, it teaches you what you are. Knowing what you are is a...