May 30, 2016 § Leave a comment
The accelerator quietly revs. Blurring passed the trees that pull their leaves and branches a yellow car pushes into the center lane. Again, the accelerator. For 30 miles, maybe, more. This happened a long time ago. The 5, or 10, most likely. California.
From the back seat the hiss of the wind sucking from the top of the glass louder than anything else: the music, the cigarette smoke, the silent conversation. From under my uncle’s foot comes the engine. Petal to the metal. Calculated. Press and release, press and release. A rhythmic repetition up from my feet through to my head. 20 miles, maybe 50. Why’s he doing this?
Now, the thought comes up as choral children sing from the Catholic church on N. Broadway just above the Zanja Madre–Why do we do what we do? Do we even realize what? How long has this rhythmic questing been with me? 50 years, 20?
May 25, 2016 § Leave a comment
Took a while to fight the mind away from the disconnect.
The pan of not feeling while feeling it all too much: an extreme close-up in sharpest focus.
Double fuge tone deaf, pleasing the critics with a soundtrack of life not understood. Balls, strikes, ads and silent casting all in one. A solo performance stolen by methotrexate down by three. Non linear cut and paste.
It took awhile to fight the film school mind. It’s all on the editing room floor.
In the end I always get final cut.