Streaks

I decided to watch The Disciple because the quiet, contemplative shots I saw in the trailer drew me towards its patient narrative of an artist's struggle with frustration and self-doubt. The theme was an intimate friend to my own mind (though I am not in the pursuit of musical excellence) - fighting the ebb and flow of my own thoughts binding me to where I am, in a place of inaction and procrastination. I suppose I was looking for a sign that I am not alone in this frustration. That along with company, I might find hope, or at least some dignity in this state of mind that frequently holds the fort until a better day. Instead, I was devastated by the end of watching this film and left in a hopeless, numb state for hours afterward. This film is laden with some beautiful, thoughtful cinematography - wide shots to let you take in an entire room full of minute movements in every corner, pausing to give you plenty of space of breathe in the patient anticipation of an audience prior to a

It has been about a month since I finished reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, and I continue to carry the memories of Pip's inner journey from dissatisfaction to contentment with me; it has left a deep impression on my mind. His dissatisfactory childhood is direct and apparent, and his one act of genuine kindness towards an otherwise forsaken and despised stranger sets events in motion that over time, change his outlook (and expectations) towards life forever. Dickens' descriptions of human emotions and state of mind are so hauntingly accurate that I found it very difficult to get through the first third to half of the story, as I allowed the misplaced guilt, disappointment and dissatisfaction that Pip felt to seep into my consciousness bit by bit. It saddened me to watch him drift away from Joe and Biddy as he moved to London. The characterizations of Estella and Miss Havisham are stunning portrayals of the dark shadows that thrive in the absence of nurture. The r

In an attempt to break out of my mind's silence, I tried a writing exercise: Write the first word that comes to mind, then the next, then the next, break lines when you feel like it, focusing on the sounds rather than the meanings. Here is what spilled out from me in about a minute or two. With maudlin words trembling species form never alter their silence forget about comfort sudden contortions  spoiled distortions lead me into veiled dismay!

Malformed, scrawny, cursive letters, listless phrases in sentences frayed, scratched, cliched, hollow, despicable, stumbling, mine.