I Can’t Believe It Took This Long

David Fincher‘s Zodiac came out in theatres in 2007, and I cannot believe it’s taken me this long to want to watch it.  Fincher directed many of the great music videos from the 80s through the early 90s.  His first feature film, Se7en (1995), left an indelible mark on my young mind.  Though I’ve seen his other highly praised films when they came out in theatres or on home video, the desire to watch Zodiac never materialized until this afternoon.

All I’m going to say about it is that if you haven’t seen it yet, and you have enjoyed Fincher’s talent in wielding atmospheric and narrative tension, you should watch it at your earliest convenience.  There are a couple of references to how rare basements are in Californian homes that illustrate the extent that movie-watching is not a passive activity.

Pic cred: IMDB

This Face Cannot Lie

If you could wear your emotions on your face, the proportion of your shoulders to your waist, the pitch of your voice, and the range of your exhalations, would you feel more confident in being honest?

Stepping onto the ice with your neutral face, slightly furrowed brows, stale eyes, and an equal sign for a mouth doesn’t embue comfort as much as it does apprehension and possibly subservience.

But if your good morning could shine through your visage, would your opponent be confused?  Prematurely reassured, mistaking your joy for excessive whimsy and lack of focus?

Taking the puck towards the net, you suddenly can’t remember if you locked a door or left enough food for your pet, and that beam of light evaporates and ripples into eye sockets bigger than golf balls.

For a minute or two, your skates cross back and forth like cutting paper — you’re unstoppable.  Except the rink doesn’t have ice, and your pads have fallen off, and the helmet you strapped tightly around your head has become chalk.

Does worry grow stronger or does it shift into the fodder for architectural nightmares and groans in the pitch-black closets into nowhere?

— yiqi 16 May 2024 9:31 pm

This prose poem was inspired by a “what-if” exercise I’ve done where I imagine my emotional states becoming visible on my face, especially the one that firmly conveys, “go away” or “I’m not here.”

Original pic cred: Fabien TWB (fabienfeub), unsplash

I can get with that

I started reading this book a year ago, then stopped, and today I picked it up to read a bit more and came across the passage that could be a new prayer.

“If there’s any justice in the Gods’ injustice, then may they let us keep our dreams, even when they’re impossible, and may our dreams be happy, even when they’re trivial.  Today, because I’m still young, I can dream of South Sea islands and impossible Indias.  Tomorrow perhaps the same Gods will make me dream of owning a small tobacco shop, or of retiring to a house in the suburbs.  Every dream is the same dream, for they’re all dreams.  Let the Gods change my dreams, but not my gift for dreaming” — The Book of Disquiet (Ferdinand Pessoa, 59, 60).