Tonight, I walked outside and the sky was the deepest most unfathomable shade of purple. A deep hazy purple with small pinpoints of starlight peeking through. and on my way home there was a cat lurking around beneath the benches and a family of deer lurking around in the foliage and sprinklers wildly spraying places that never needed to be watered. And the temperature was perfect, and I was in one of those moods where I felt positively compelled to press my hand against the bark of every tree I passed.
Another thing: as much as I love still photographs there is just something about a moving image. Something about shifting light and shadow and color and eyes blinking--a certain glancingness that can be captured in no other way. I can look at old photographs and the humans there feel flat and dead and distant somehow. But I look at even the earliest films--you know the 20 or 30 or 50 seconds of people walking out of factories or strolling through the town square--and I am suddenly caught up! These are people, real people. Where are they going? Who and what do they love? I can almost feel them breathing.
We watched this film today and I found it beautiful and astounding.
You should watch it.
We care too much these days about propulsive plotlines, conflict, drama and adventure. Sometimes a simple moving image, or just a series of them thoughtfully and interestingly juxtaposed is more than enough.
Watch here or just follow the link: