This past Friday was the fullest moon of 2010. Ancient alchemists believed the moon was a plant, and the sun a great animal. In Christian iconography, the moon represents the Virgin Mary. When I urinated on that statue I helped to water the great plant.
I wish my dreams were more filled with the shapes of objects that I run and drive past and barely notice. The river’s water flowing past frozen ice. Branches of trees exposed and brittle. Street lights and the electric bus lines. Black inky shadows in dropping sunlight, the wolf moon howling over my apartment building. Perhaps all this is already there but the details are lost to faulty memory. What I remember of my dreams are the people and places from my past. My mom’s house, her drunken snoring in the next room. Chef Lord yelling at me behind the restaurant, the realization that if I didn’t squeeze out some tears I would get punched. The sea of tranquility my dreams are not. Its like Tupac said…
“I never get to lay back
‘Cause I always got to worry ’bout the pay backs
some punk that I roughed up way back
comin’ back after all these years
rat-tat-tat-tat-tat that’s the way it is”
In my film I will be the alchemist who combines the beauty of the unnoticed with the real human stuff that leaves a mark.