This short film features “life” shots in Iceland, Japan, California and France. It’s wrapped in Bon Iver’s Holocene, which takes it up a notch.
Tag: living
Wheels on the Bus. Are Coming Off.
It was a mid-afternoon meeting.
On a quiet day.
We’re sequestered for 90 minutes.
I’m in a listening role.
I sit back and settle.
And look forward to taking it all in,
in my mid-day sabbatical.
I eye the candy dish.
Do I need this? Of course not.
My eyes take inventory.
Butterscotch.
Red and White Mints. The Swirly type.
Two Orange Ovals with form fitted plastic wrappers.
One of something dark, odd shaped and foreign. How long you been sitting there?
Then my eyes land on the prize.
One diamond sporting a shiny, green carrot top. Yellow dots.
A Hard Strawberry Candy.
My hands greedily ferret to the bottom of the dish.
I remove the wrapper under the table to keep noise down.
And pop it into my mouth.
The strawberry sugars drip down my throat.
I swirl it to coat my mouth.
I continue to slowly chew and savor.
The candy loses its shape. It becomes gooey.
I had to do something. I have no shame.
The outcome of my days
“The outcome of my days is always the same; an infinite desire for what one never gets; a void one cannot fill; an utter yearning to produce in all ways, to battle as much as possible against time that drags us along, and the distractions that throw a veil over our soul.”
~ Eugene Delacroix, “The Journal of Eugene Delacroix”
Credits: Image – Your Eyes Blazeout. Quote – The Hidden Abyss
Riding MetroNorth. The Day’s Highlight.
I’m walking down 51st Street to catch the 6:22 train home.
A migraine has been throbbing since 11 am.
It’s progressively clawing at my attention.
And sawing at my patience.
3:30 am insomnia?
Skipping lunch?
This diet is going to kill me.
I find an open seat.
I grab my ticket from my bag.
And set my coat and bag overhead.
I slump into the window seat and rest my head against the window.
I close my eyes.
Give me 10 minutes. Please. Just 10. And, let this pain evaporate.
The train pulls out of Grand Central.
I drift away with the clickety clack of the train.
I awake to the conductor calling for tickets.
I hand my ticket to her.
She smiles, and hands it back.
She tells me she’ll be back and moves on to the other passengers.
I look down. It’s the receipt instead of the ticket.
Flustered. I apologize to my seatmate.
I stand up to reach for my bag.
I open the zipper to get at my wallet. Continue reading “Riding MetroNorth. The Day’s Highlight.”