7/29- 8/30/ 2000


It still seems like magic
To capture light, the void of shadow
Images seen with eyes for eyes
With a piece of glass on film or now
To digits within memory, pictures of memory
And some bring art to the magic
The capture of emotions and fear
The aching tears of beauty, the skin rolling discomfort
of horror, uncontrolled laughter, want…

For one with seemingly dreamless sleep
Moments of film replace dreams
Technique captures beauty and violence
Cherry blossoms and rivers of mud
The rage of admitting who you are

The best laid plans of a director
Can either fall short or find priceless accidents
That become legend
Move against the flow
Dance with the celebrants
Stand still and let humanity move you

Ive seen my dreams and others dreams as well
Our nightmares both terrifying and safe
Pitched out of a machine in light;
Its just a movie. well…

So many visions, so many people
so much time
Now months for 10 seconds of air time
But even now I digress to the business it has become
Id rather speak of those who put one light
Just right
So that celluloid could react

And that translation geonome
That gets from head to paper to shadow
To entertain me, challenge me, touch me
They gave us cool, and villains that could be defeated
Part of me wants to write lists
Of films, of scenes, of moments
That they succeeded
And share that with you
But what I find caught in the corner of my eye
May only be an invitation to the kitchen or the bathroom for you

My man Paz said that all of the arts can be poetry;
Perhaps its the poet in me that watches film.

(for A.K.)