Wednesday, April 20, 2005

The Most Significant

Carl Jung claimed in his autobiography that it was not the places he travelled, nor the many exalted people he met, nor even his own awards and achievments that he most cherished. What he found to be the most significant were his dreams and his inner life. Jung influenced Fellini deeply. More specific accounts of that influence will make their way here eventually.
For now I will share this morning's most vivid dream.

A child walks on a balance beam, her mother close by should she fall reminding her to think. I wanted to say, NO! Before I could I was in an auditorium full of students, known actors, with whom I am friends in some cases and at least acquianted in others, and my family including my father.
There was a film being made, possibly my own. While everyone settled into the small auditorium, I spoke to a video artist about contrast ratios in an anteroom while Andrew Dickson took to the stage and began to speak about raising one's arm with concentration. I leaped to the fore and began to distinguish between contacting one's body and intellectual concentration. I was not grounded, so I climbed to the stage and first connected my feet.
I felt my body open up with all the eyes in the crowd on me. I wanted to know they saw what I felt. I wanted to know they were with me. Then they were leaving for the day. Getting into cars. I wanted to stand face to face with Peter Saarsgaard and Maggie Gyllenhall to see, not to ask, but rather to read if they thought my work was for real. While I was detained they waved as they climbed into a car and left.
There were others that I wanted to approach and gauge their reaction only to be thwarted by folks less central to the production asking me more questions regarding schedules and technical issues. I wanted to talk to the actors. I was continually waylayed until all the actors had left. The last person to confront me was a high school chum with whom I am still current. He's a musician and I thought he wanted to talk about the composing. Instead, David accused me of stealing his Kenny Lofton pocket knife. I plead my innocence, but it seemed only to confirm my guilt and he too walked away, leaving me in an enormous, very empty parking lot. I wanted to explain I don't steal from people like I did in high school.

ciao
signore direttore

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