Quick Disclaimer for my All New Pursuits Worthwhile Post:
This post evolves from a movie review into a thought about artists into a promotion for 'All (New) Pursuits Worthwhile' into a self-examination into a poem into a concluding thought. Similar to way the world is shifting, there is a lot of movement in a short period of time.
Kill Bill Vol. 1 - A shocking, violent revenge film with a purpose. Tarantino aims to amaze and exceed expectation and he doesn't fail to deliver. In the first installment of this samurai meets western movie about a woman whose sole purpose in life has become to Kill Bill, we are taught that every extreme action brings about an equal or greater reaction.
When a bride wakes up from a four year coma to discover her baby is dead and her most recent memory is of her former lover putting a bullet between her eyes after killing everyone else at her wedding, including the 'colored organ-player,' you can expect her to retaliate. And when super trained bare-footed assassin Uma Thurman puts on her tone cold and utters with a comical face tone "it is mercy, compassion and forgiveness that I lack," you know her, and Quentin Tarantino, mean business.
And the rest of the names on her compiled Death List mean business too, last of which is Bill, the leader of the Deadly Vipers. Among the vipers is Cottonmouth, Oren Ishii, an elegant, japanese looking angel who will decapitate as you begin to tilt your head back to laugh at your own bad joke. Who better for the role than Lucy-Liu? She heads the Yacuzzas, the Japanese Mafia that run all of Japan. Every scene in the story is another punch in the face to help justify a woman killing over 100 bad ass people and the audience not finding a drop of sympathy for any of the characters. It is much more the second volume that draws on dialogue and emotion. This pacing is superbly achieved by great writing and direction.
He gives you your money's worth for this ride. The visual is synchronized with the emotive, sometimes genre out of place but still never hitting a wrong note, soundtrack making this a real sensory experience. The time spent in the editing room of this movie goes to show how intentional each scene was filmed. Every character's emotion, inflection or severed limb is highlighted by the tones of the music or hues of light (or blood) splashed across the screen.
I appreciate a well thought out and executed piece of art. With most masterpieces, and here lies no exception, an ego is usually to be found at the hands of the artist, though it is to an extent deserved. A film like Kill Bill will inevitably claim its place in history. Even though a 'masterpiece' may have been brought into existence from the corners of his mind, his work is not complete. Paul Thomas Anderson thought Magnolia was his magnum opus, but if he stopped there, we wouldn't have his far superior There Will Be Blood. Everyone, as artists and creators in this world, are in perpetual pursuits of building out of what is given and repairing what is there. We might find our glasses overflowing with influence and means of construction rather than yearning for thirst on a dry summer afternoon in the Mojave. No matter how the good the times are, we must never lose sight of when times were harder. I've personally found myself riding some long, beautiful waves and getting lost in this perfect ease, but then the ocean knocks me on my ass and humbles me yet again.
So this brings me to adding a single word to the title of this blog. Not for renaming, but for the sake of this post.
All (New) Pursuits Worthwhile
Over the course of the past 3 years, I've spent most of my time outdoors. I've learned survival and camping skills, cooking, baking, gardening and construction, communication and teaching children, those my age and older, and how to live independently and sustainably. It is near the time that I would be graduating, assuming I stayed and gathered enough credits for the whole four years of college. I hear from some high school friends about their apprehension to face the 'real world' after being in a comfortable box for the last 21 years. The proverb "life is what you make it" manifests in brand new ways once you leave the walls of the institution. My advice, having been on the road for a little now, is get off your ass and try something new. Put yourself out of your comfort zone, open the windows and let the breeze in, and do something that may inadvertantly change your life.
Do I have any regrets about voluntarily dropping out of college? Nope. And I wouldn't even say it was too soon or too late, the timing played out perfectly. It brought me to where I am today, and if I've met you in the past I am grateful, and if I meet you soon in the future I will hopefully be ready.
In this powerful present, where reflection converges with vision, a poem seems appropriate.
what is the world to someone without eyes but a song?
afternoon birds chirpin' and fillin' our air so lightly
swiftly shaping sounds in circles so sprightly
to echo like a wave would in echolocation
to seek a hidden solace in the earth's vibration
melting paradise with the ylang ylang scent in a metaphorical pot
swingin' in a hammock between two trees of life growing over rock
to be without a complex or agenda, you'll find your intention pure
cooperate with the sun and the trees, they'll shade your every fear
walk with the wind on your bare back, guidance will be given if you listen
travel to the furthest four corners, the center will reveal itself
the spring clouds allow long glances from a friendly sun
the green palm fronds rustle in the wind like inverted hula skirts
when words trail off and silence hums, you become a perfect grain of sand
drawing breaths with the water, goin' for a ride with the tide
tis the season not to be alone, tis the season for candlelight
tis the season for full moons, on full beaches, on exceptionally starry nights
And I leave you with this:
Something to chew on,
like a goat digesting food
for four white stomachs
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