I've been reading a lot of Susan Sontag essays lately. I just finished re-reading "A Century of Cinema." A section that struck me was the one in which she drew the line between home theater options vs. the old movie houses. In it, she alludes to how a great movie watched in a theater can transport us for a couple of hours. Here's her creepy but exciting illustration of this: "To be kidnapped, you have to be in a movie theater, seated in the dark among anonymous strangers."
This had me thinkin' of a recent experience. We were recently at the Ken watching the new Basquiat documentary. As the film concluded, I heard a soft weeping that reached us from a few seats to the left. In the darkness, light splashed across half of her face. I was moved by this for a lot of reasons, and shared a bit of sadness at that moment with an anonymous stranger.
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I'm listening to Violeta Parra this morning as I write. My mind wanders. Imagine the conversations between Violeta and Nicanor! Check this out.
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I recently celebrated a birthday. My abuelita called and sang to me. It was utterly beautiful! Following this, she asked: "Mijo, are you still writing?" "I'm trying, grandma." And then she snapped "Don't try! Do!" Brief silence. "Have a happy birthday, mijo. I love you." Click.
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I'm playing trumpet again!