Aye, There's The Rub
When I started this blog oh-so-many-months-ago, one of the things I told myself was that what I didn't want it to turn into was a chronicle of the minutae of my daily existence. No I'll-just-write-down-every-mundane-activity-that-occured journal for me! And although I've occasionally slipped into the realm of "metablogging", that is copping items off of other people's blogs or from other online sources, I think I've managed to keep my promise.
But, it does pose a bit of a dilemma; it seems that very often I'll spend my last few minutes of consciousness each evening thinking up great subjects upon which to expound in the next day's entry, only to be stymied by an annying tendency to completely forget these brilliant ideas by the time I wake up eight or so hours later. So, short of keeping some sort of notepad by my head (which in-and-of-itself isn't really a bad idea), I either need to do a better job of remembering these twilight musings or else limit myself to subjects I can dredge up during the other fifteen or sixteen hours of the day.
But, there's a problem with this as well. For example, what I'm writing at this very moment might be considered self-referencial to the point of being not worth the effort it's taking to jot down on a screen. For some people it would probably be stating the obvious, while for others it's simply irrelevent. I'm not saying anything others haven't said before, it's just that occasionally I need to remind myself of the fact, for my own benefit if not for others. But, does that necessarily mean I need to project these rather mundane inner thoughts to a wider audience than the one inside my head? Evidentally, since I've obviously resisted the temptation to just hit the "delete" button and start over.
And Now For Something Completely Different:
I rewatched an old cinema favorite that I hadn't visited in quite some time, Alain Resnais' brilliant 1959 feature debut, Hiroshima Mon Amour, a truly lovely, haunting, sad, and affecting love story about the power of memory to shape our present circumstances. Working from Margaurite Duras' much heralded screenplay, combined with a groundbreaking explosion of traditional filmmaking technique, Resnais manages to put on film a perfect synchronization of past, present and future as they merge to create a timeless moment in each character's life. Perhaps as influencial on later filmmakers as Orson Welles' Citizen Kane, Hiroshima is one of those rare films that seamlessly combines the mediums of literature and cinema together, and is still as haunting and emotionally involving on its tenth viewing as it is on its first or second.
on 1:24 PM