Michelangelo sibyl from the Sistine Chapel

 

rock star fantasy

Yesterday was one of those days where talking didn't seem needed. Forming words and sentences wasn't worth the effort. It was a combination of having nothing to say and just letting everything go for a moment. The silence in my house was enough as I drifted into the world of a book. Someone else was guiding me with their words and I didn't have to say or do anything.

I am not a fast reader. There will be times when I linger on a book for a month or longer, when other people finish it in days. I might read the same page over and over wondering what made them piece together those particular words. One question after another will pop into my head and soon I am drifting away from what I was reading. A single paragraph might spark a dozen tangent thoughts in my mind and I end up exploring all of them. Then by the time that I return to the book an hour may have passed since I read a page.

When we would discuss a book in college, I was always surprised by what people said about what we had read. Each person brought part of themselves into the book so what they read didn't match what I got out of it. This explains why movies made from books fail to meet the expectations of the reader, because in film the story has become fixed to meet one vision.

Strangely I didn't question as to whether or not my fellow students had come up with these interpretations on their own or if they were stolen from some other source. I have an unfortunate habit of trusting people a little too much at times. An underlying motive usually takes me by surprise when it comes to the surface.

Last night on MTV they aired the first two songs from the American leg of the Springsteen concert. A friend from work had taped it and brought it in for me to watch. Sadly I think that I enjoyed the documentary part more than I did the concert. Bruce looked a little too much like Tom Jones and it made me wince.

Maybe I am being too harsh. People age and icons lose their glory, so I should have lowered my expectations. I should also remember that Bruce is only human. Besides my image of him is probably far removed from who he is in person. Despite the connection between the art and the artist, a viewer will always have their own interpretation of it.

I prefer Springsteen the folk singer over the concert performer. The early albums are what work the best for me, when he was more focused on wordplay.

I don't want a spectacle. I just want the music and prefer to have it reach me on a more subtle level rather than being thrown at me with hundreds of other people around. I want to absorb the words and music in the privacy of my home. I want it to be personal.

Just the small glimpse of what I saw reminded me that I am not one for the concert experience. I have no desire to be part of a larger group event because all of the intimacy gets lost. I want to feel as though the singer is talking only to me. The fragile connection is broken when I have bodies swaying into me and the stench of alcohol and pot smoke surrounds me. Yes, I am getting old.

I made it to the eight o'clock showing of Eyes Wide Shut, which was a novelty for me. More often than not I go to a matinee, so seeing a film with a nearly full theater was a little different. Usually there are just a handful of people with me when I see a movie in the afternoon. In some ways I almost had a traditional Friday night out. With my work schedule I don't really focus too much on Friday night as a social time, but I got a little closer to it tonight.

I'm not sure how to describe the film, but I did like it and wish that I could have thought some more about before I had to go to work. In general Kubrick shows the fragility of marriage and how a man and a woman relate to one another within that structure. So many thoughts and feelings lie beneath the surface and can cause it to collapse. Words spoken in an argument can unravel it in an instant. If I had to choose one word, I would say that it was disturbing.

 
reading: Opium Dreams - Margaret Gibson
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