Monday, November 2, 2015

The Tree of Life

The film was as fluid as a daydream and just as personal. 

Childhood holds the firsts, the discoveries that never again have the same impact. Glimpses of the universal brought my own story into play and it became nearly impossible to separate the two. Whose pain was I feeling, mine or Jack’s? I flew with the mother. My gullibility disappeared with R.L.'s. The father's hand (and dinosaur claw) pushed, pushed--stay down, comply, look. The mother's hand brushed lightly, to distract, as if to say, avert, look away. There was ugliness in both as well as beauty. For no one is complete, but all is made well and whole in the wave of redemptive power.

At moments of frustration, where I wanted to know what I was supposed to understand, I recalled Clovis and sdedalus’ modern art advice. Stop trying. Experience it. That made all the difference. All that needed to be clear, was and the rest…well, that’s for another viewing.





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3 comments:

  1. Sandy J.November 3, 2015 at 11:22 PM

    Oh! Such beautiful pictures. Thank you so much for posting those, Steve.

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  2. Steve KimesNovember 9, 2015 at 4:53 PM

    In watching Tree of Life, I believe I held my breath throughout the film. The beauty, the story, the themes of love v. judgment-- it is as if he build the film from my own deepest soul experiences. I had to post some of the visual beauty of the film to try to give a taste of that.

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  3. Sandy J.November 10, 2015 at 7:27 AM

    While you held your breath, I found myself quietly crying during the whole film. Two reactions to two "soul experiences." :) Thank you for posting that and placing words, to what I hadn't been able to.

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