CLEAR VISION AHEAD WITH A REAR VISION MIRROR

Anyone who really knows me also knows about my obsession with Wes Anderson’s movies. I have his films ranked by favorites and importance. If the story does do it for me, there’s always the creative visuals. When the day comes to remodel my kitchen, I’m doing it in Wes Anderson style with dark teal cabinets and light pink walls. My reward for sitting through a panel discussion on baseball statistics, was to see the new Wes Anderson film, Astroid City, in the theater. I posted something about having thoughts on the movie afterwards, which may have sounded like I had negative thoughts or I had been disappointed. That wasn’t my intention. My thoughts on the movie are not negative. In fact I loved it and have placed it number three in my list of Wes Anderson films. I probably loved it so much because I felt a little too close to the character of Augie, the grieving father in the story line traveling with his children and carrying along his wife’s ashes in a Tupperware bowl.

I’m a photographer. My pictures always come out. - Augie Steenbeck

A number of people have asked me what this movie is about and every time I’ve been unable to say anything other than “it’s weird, but really really good.” I don’t know how to verbally describe a movie about death and loss and the sidecar of crazy life that just continues to travel around with you in spite of your emotional state. Of course, in true Wes Anderson fashion, the events happening around Augie are over the top crazy and surreal. Yet no matter how bizarre the thing, Augie’s reactions are always the same bland, expressionless reaction. This is the shock and numbness that comes with loss. Things happen all around you, small thing and big things, but all you can muster up is a shrug and a ‘huh.’

The movie is a play within a play and at one point, the actor portraying Augie in the play breaks character and walks off stage. He says he needs a break and steps out on to a fire escape. The woman who was supposed to play his dead wife in a dream sequence is standing on the fire escape of the building right across from him. The dream sequence ends up getting cut in the play and the two have a brief discussion of it. Then the actor playing Augie says “I’m not sure I get it. The play.” The woman goes on to explain that it’s okay if you don’t ‘get it’. You just do your best with the parts you do get. Everyone interprets the script in their own way, just as we each deal with grief in our way.

We don’t have to ‘get it’.

One of the advertisement signs on the gas station garage reads Clear Vision Ahead with a Rear Vision Mirror. There’s another one across from this one that reads Death Rides on Unsafe Tires. Those signs are probably silly and meaningless to most, just something to draw attention with out much thought. For me though, those signs are my then and now. The first sign is something I am constantly doing, remembering and reflecting on the road traveled. Looking back every now and then to see the road behind you, reminds you to pay attention to the road ahead. That second sign was left for me by Chris, a safety warning from a man who worried about me doing things that he thought I couldn’t handle on my own. It is a testament to my strength (and stubbornness) all of the things that I have found that I can handle on my own. But I will concede that life is easier when you don’t have to handle things alone. That’s something that Augie also realizes. He doesn’t have to do this alone.

We don’t have to do this alone.

IN DEFENSE OF BOREDOM

No parking

4 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "No parking"

I have noticed that there are two different (at least) species of fireflies in our backyard. One species is about half an inch long. It floats slowly through the air almost like a hot air balloon and has a long glowing blink. The other species is about half the size of the one just described. It is faster in movement and in blink. It also seems to stay close to the ground, while the larger kind can be seen all the way up in the tree tops. 

What kind of firefly are you? 

That question reminds me of that scene in Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom where Sam asks Suzy "What kind of bird are you?" Everyone knows that Sam is really asking Suzy "What kind of person are you? Are you brave and daring? Are you the type that goes against the crowd? Or are you just like the others." Because it is Wes Anderson and every movie he makes drips with metaphors and the implied words between the words. So I ask. What kind of firefly are you? Well, I can tell you that I am the fat slow kind of firefly. 

Since Michael is off for the summer, he's been taking care of everything around the house. He cooks the meals, cleans the kitchen, runs the vacuum, cleans the bathroom, cleans off table clutter, does the laundry and the grocery shopping. His plan is for me to have mostly nothing to do on the weekends but go to yoga classes and scooter around the city. It's a nice plan and with the exception of the occasional round of dusting, his plan is mostly working. I have nothing do. I have oodles of time to do all the other projects that I've been wanting do or at least thinking about doing; the projects that get set aside because of the demands of daily living. This is the perfect opportunity for me to sit down and write, organize photos and get the creative juices flowing. 

I am doing none of those things. I just lay around like a lump. Mostly. I am going to yoga classes and we have been scootering around the city. We spent the whole day last Saturday scooting from place to place, even getting caught in a downpour. We came home, put on dry clothes and then I plopped myself back down on the couch. I was talking to Dr. Mary about all of this in our weekly session. I told her how I should be taking advantage of this extra time, but nothing I write sounds interesting. I delete everything. The scenery around me does not inspire me to pick up my camera. The pictures I take are forced. The pictures I take of myself for my 365 day project are uninspired and often do not include my face because every time I see my face through the camera lens, I'm like "ugh". I told Dr. Mary that I was bored with myself. 

Then Dr. Mary said that maybe I needed to be bored for a bit. 

I realized then that I have been thinking about this free time all wrong. Instead of focusing on doing all of the things, I should be relishing in this time to be still. Boredom is a privilege that is rarely allowed to us in adulthood. Boredom is for children and oh the things a kid can invent to escape their boredom. Fantastical games and magical worlds bloom from moments of boredom. Boredom is the time for recharging the creative batteries. So, I'm going to be bored. I'm going to be still. And then I'm going to hope that something blooms from all this stillness.