This blog is welcome to anyone and everyone, regardless of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, or political affiliation. Unless you don't like writing short stories or smelling bear. Or if you voted for the other guy. Also, I don't really like it when you leave up the toilet seat, so could you stop doing that? Muchas, muchas gracias.

Friday, January 19, 2007

Sometimes Alone Sounds Pretty Good

My ex-boyfriend was an electrician, and sometimes I was his helper.

In the beginning I wasn't any good, and he was a very bad teacher. During our first job he jabbered on about "runs," pointing up the walls and all across the ceiling, then he spent the rest of the day drilling holes through studs, obsessing about the precise size of those holes, and swearing. At the end of the day, when he finally looked up from those worrisome holes, he saw the evidence that I hadn't understood him, not even close, because I had romex running outside of the studs, in places where there was supposed to be sheetrock.

Years later, when I'd become a great helper, he reminded me of that first job when I had no skills, when I wrote "pee" on the ends of the P wires, when the guys who finished the job bitched about my handiwork and seemed to think my being young and female had something to do with it. My ex-boyfriend told me he'd known all along it'd been his own fault. I was the best helper he'd ever had, he said. He was the coolest guy I'd ever met.

I miss learning something new, the challenge of it. By which I mean, I guess I'm ready to be alone for a while. In fact, I'm downright excited. But I'm also deeply scared.

* * *

Oh, and I'm reading this new title by David Lynch, the filmmaker I admire most. It's called Catching The Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, And Creativity, and it's about where ideas come from. His tone is what I would call blandly fascinating. Lynch isn't a great prose stylist, but these little prose fragments do guide the reader to a place that invites us to dream, and to dream deeply, and this invitation is hard to turn down. I've started meditating, and so far I find the practice a big relief.

Here's a factoid: Lynch is adamant about disliking director's commentary tracks on DVDs because he says that the thing is the film: "You should try to see the whole film through, and try to see it in a quiet place, on as big a screen as you can with as good a sound system as you can. Then you can go into that world and have that experience."

I think I love him. But I don't plan on dating anyone for a while, so his loss.



Blogger matty said...

It is his loss!

And, I love what you wrote and the way you wrote it.

I can't medidate. I suck at it. I forget how to breath and my mind starts to wander away to things that do not help the process.

I adore Lynch's work as a filmmaker. Except for that one film about the old man with the tractor. No. But, everything else he does grabs me. And, while I do understand what he is saying about how a veiwer should approach film --- I end up thinking he is either being lazy or, worse, that maybe his films don't mean as much as I'd like to believe that they do.

We are at a time in history when artists can put down on official record what their work means to them and what was in their head when they wrote it. And, I know that this can seem to put limits on work and its impact on those who view/touch it. But, the thing about it is --- it can be the choice of the viewer or scholar to listen/read it.

I would choose to listen. I've already absorbed it the way he suggests. Now, I'd like to know what all that chewing of corn means to him. ...because, in the end -- after he dies. Some Joan Didion or some other well intentioned person will be teaching or speaking of his work and will be getting it all wrong.

He should do commentary. AND, he should allow film processors to chapter index his films! It drives me crazy that there are no chapters for Mulholand Drive!!

Now, David Lynch is touring about to Barnes & Noble's to discuss his book and coffee.

I'd like to know your personal take on this choice vs. his scheduling dates with independent shops.

Great cinema awaits you tonight! Prepare!

2:27 PM

Blogger ginab said...

In agreement: his loss. Meditation: [might be] your gain. And so through him (?) you learned something new.

Swimming is my meditation.

Just finished Munro's collection which you gave me last month in a hotel room in Grand Rapids. I enjoyed every word and at last feel guided or perhaps I'm misguided. Anyway, I love her writing. To close a book is tough. But I thank you for letting me read to a close.

It's 14 degrees here so yes the ice remains on the trees. Morning is best to see light along the branches.


PS: great post. heartfelt.

5:47 PM

Blogger AhvaRahn said...

Electricity frightens me and it’s been like that since I was a child. I think my parents with the greatest of intentions instilled the fear, and reveled in the success when I lost my interest in sticking my fingers in the sockets. Unlike you (I’d expect), I am not too good around the house when the power goes off.

I love David Lynch -but not going to get in the way of you two- favorite is Wild at Heart. I have seen myself stopping on certain occasions, when things seem too good to be wholesome, and asking myself, “Now where’s the David Lynch angle to all this veneer?”

Be well,

10:04 AM

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

ah, lovely. you articulate what i, too, feel.

8:10 AM


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home