Sleepwaking, Blindsighted, and a Little Bit of Movies in the Night

[Video: one of the best cinematic commentaries on ignoring (and paying attention to) the wrong things turned 71 the other day. Above, its trailer — complete with telephone commentary not actually in the film… and not showing its title character for even a single second.]

From whiskey river:

Solar

On a gray day, when the sun
has been abducted, and it’s chill
end-of-the-world weather,
I must be the sun.
I must be the one
to encourage the young
sidetracked physicist
working his father’s cash register
to come up with a law of nature
that says brain waves can change
the dismal sky. I must be the one
to remind the ginger plant
not to rest on the reputation
of its pungent roots, but to unveil
those buttery tendrils from the other world.
When the sky is an iron lid
I must be the one to simmer
in the piquant juices of possibility,
though the ingredients are unknown
and the day begins with a yawn.
I must issue forth a warmth
without discrimination, and any guarantee
it will come back to me.
On a dark day I must be willing
to keep my disposition light,
I have to be at the very least
one stray intact ray
of local energy, one small
but critical fraction
of illumination. Even on a day
that doesn’t look gray
but still lacks comfort or sense,
I have to be the sun,
I have to shine as if
sorry life itself depended on it.
I have to make all the difference.

(Thomas Centolella [source])

…and:

Eyesight

It was May before my
attention came
to spring and

my word I said
to the southern slopes
I’ve

missed it, it
came and went before
I got right to see:

don’t worry, said the mountain,
try the later northern slopes
or if

you can climb, climb
into spring: but
said the mountain

it’s not that way
with all things, some
that go are gone

(A.R. Ammons [source])

…and:

Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you’re going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.

(Anne Lamott [source])

Not from whiskey river:

The Invisible Girl

The girl who was invisible knew things. She knew that everyone else was starring in a movie, and her job was to watch. Just watch it. What else could she do? Her skin wasn’t even real. It was only the idea of skin. And like all ideas, it was magic. Sometimes it became transparent. Even the birds flew through it, and bullets. Other days it was liquid. When she swam, she was the water. Every now and then she turned into a tree, so heavy and still she couldn’t move. Instead she felt the sap run through her veins and fill her with shadows and song.

But there were rules. Always be quiet was one. Don’t let on was two. You might be seen then. And not forgotten. Not that her parents meant to forget her when they dropped her off at school, the tennis courts, the local swimming pool. At the end of the day she watched as parents came in station wagons, and one by one the other children went home. Some were hugged by their parents, and some were smacked. Every day a red-haired boy left sobbing after he refused to get out of the water. She didn’t envy any of them really. She liked the feeling of being alone, listening to the crickets and watching the moon rise, long after the pool and playground emptied. She liked listening to the lifeguard talk on the phone to his girlfriend, saying I will be there. Yes. 10:00 sharp. I love you. She had heard those words before. Her father said words like that every day. She was glad they weren’t true. She’d rather stay there forever. Let the world carry everyone else away.

(Nin Andrews [source])

…and:

Trailer

The guests are floating in the lobby,
walking but also gliding to the front desk
then away, checking in, checking out,
muscular souls adorned in cotton,
wool, and rayon, chewing the future
inside their heads, slicing the air
with ironed pleats, avoiding the camera
at every turn so as, so as to get it right
this time, which is the first time.
“First cut, best cut!” the director shouts
since this is also a silent film for the deaf
and therefore everyone. His aim
is to get the cast to see what they’ve
been missing, to disregard the very sounds
that they don’t hear to begin with,
but would notice immediately
if they were gone. See how they glide
on the ether above the floor.
The insouciance, Lord. The insouciance!
They are all here in the magic of the set,
every soul in the guise of a guest
going about her business, a rendezvous here,
as assignation there, the solitary sipping
at the bar. Someone striking appears
at the door. The rain outside beats down
on the streets with terrible force until all
you can hear is the roar of the sky as it passes
above, and then below, on its narrow tracks.

(Chard deNiord [source])

…and:

Thirteen Writing Prompts

1.

Write a scene showing a man and a woman arguing over the man’s friendship with a former girlfriend. Do not mention the girlfriend, the man, the woman, or the argument.

[…]

3.

Choose your favorite historical figure and imagine if he/she had been led to greatness by the promptings of an invisible imp living behind his or her right ear. Write a story from the point of view of this creature. Where did it come from? What are its goals? Use research to make your story as accurate as possible.

4.

Write a story that ends with the following sentence: Debra brushed the sand from her blouse, took a last, wistful look at the now putrefying horse, and stepped into the hot-air balloon.

[…]

9.

Think of the most important secret your best friend has ever entrusted you with. Write a story in which you reveal it to everyone. Write it again from the point of view of your friend. Does she want to kill you? How does she imagine doing it? Would she use a gun, or something crueler and more savage, like a baseball bat with nails in it?

[…]

13.

A man has a terrifying dream in which he is being sawn in half. He wakes to find himself in the Indian Ocean, naked and clinging to a door; a hotel keycard is clenched in his teeth. Write what happens next.

(Dan Wiencek [source])