That Long and Long-Winded Road
I’m sitting here, drinking a cup of Gold Kili instant Chocolate Latte which, frankly, tastes in the neighborhood of chocolate but nothing near a latte, and I’m wondering about this impromptu seven month hiatus I’ve found myself on. There must be a reason, right? Some deep movement in my emotional, sub-conscious tectonic core? No… At least, I don’t think so. That’s the short answer. I have longer answers, of course.
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I could try to cop out and exclaim, hands held high for effect, that there was nothing to write about but, in fact, the opposite would be true: there was almost too much to write about. The summer of death slid gently into the winter of Tiger like an old man slipping into a warm bath. Of course, none of that had much of an impact on me. These were all great events in the psyche of the larger universe but, in my smaller world, they were only peripheral, like the will o’ wisps of elven myths, disappearing when I tried to fix my eye to them. It was all very “meh”, in the end.
No, the problem was that all streaks, even and especially the negative ones, have a physical and psychic momentum, beginning as a gentle tug of Earth gravity and ending with the atom-crushing force of a black hole. It became easier and easier not to write something. After all, the longer I waited, the more imposing the idea of writing became. The subjects had to be more important, bizarre, or grandiose. I couldn’t come back with nothing, could I? What would be the point? Not when I can fiddle with my tumblog and post the likes of this:
Yes, it’s funny and true but is it art? Or more to the point, is this all I’ve become? A little of that, A LOT of this, 140 characters and a cloud of dust? A lol picture, for crying out loud!?! Is that all? I think not! I am much more long-winded than that, my friends, and I have not yet even begun to soliloquize!
And I will, and the power and force of my blather shall shake the interwebs to their very foundations! Or, more likely, get read by a handful of fellow degenerates and become quickly forgotten. Either way… EITHER WAY, my great silence has passed like a long shuddering attack of gas. I have returned.
I do have some things to cover from recent times passed that I will do in time, things promised, obligations obliged, and all that. I will hopefully be able to fill in the blanks with something more or less than blanks. Until then, a couple of shout-outs into the void:
- #2wkfilm (aka Royal Baronial Theatre) - I met filmmaker and #2wkfilm creator Reid (twitter) over the summer. Great guy. Great films (watch them both)
- Lucas McNelly (twitter) - another filmmaker and #2wkfilm contributor. His film, Blanc de Blanc premiered this Monday in Pittsburgh. It can be had online. It’s got a kick-ass poster.
- Marya Murphy (twitter) - producer / filmmaker with husband Alejandro Adams (twitter) - met her at a screening of Canary. Great lady, great film.
If it seems like I’ve come back from nothing to say mostly nothing, that’s because, well, it’s true. However, everything starts out small, unless you’re Galactus, in which case what’s small for you is the size of a minor continent to others. However, I’d like to point out that even space babies need to start somewhere. Today, I’m starting here, which may look a bit like there, or nowhere, except the page is a bit less blank. Hopefully, it’ll stay that way. I’ll be singing the theme song to “Welcome Back, Kotter” to myself for the rest of the day.