we're not supposed to talk about it

Collage paper viewing history

I don't watch a lot of TV or movies. It's not out of snobbishness, or because I'm above it. Well, maybe a little bit. Just kidding...kind of. 

I like the crackle of vinyl records and the texture of paper. I like making things. I love how tactile books are. How kinesthetic. How sensorial. That the stillness of turning pages is somehow so engaging. It's the way I prefer to pass the time. The way I spend my days.

I have trouble sitting still and watching anything passively. I always crave a certain amount of activity. Despite my time on the cushion, watching my breath with open awareness, reminding myself that I'm a human being, I always feel like I should be a human doing something.  

But there are exceptions. February 2nd, GroundHog Day, is one such holy occasion. Every year I pay homage to St. William of Murray, in the form of his sacred avatar Phil Connors, and I watch Groundhog Day.

John Hornor Jacobs says that "We look at the world, and all those who move within it, with frank stares and brutal words". But, "A poet sees what the world offers and gives voice to its wonderful strangeness." There are days when I feel like my life is on repeat. Like it could play through an endless loop of desperation, despair, and despondency, without me involved in it. And then there are moments when I'm reminded that the mundanity and the sameness are invitations to see the world differently. To see something different in it. To see something different in me. To recognize that there are an infinite number of ways to live into the same things. That even "frank stares and brutal words” can yield to poetry. That's what art is for. That's what artist's do. They take the curse of eternal return and turn it into a blessing.

P.s. My dad is an avid TV viewer. He delves into shows indiscriminately with equal amounts of openness and interest. Spending time with him usually means watching something. He put on the new Mr. & Mrs. Smith series recently, and I found myself enjoying it actually. I like things that subvert your expectations. You'd expect a great deal of action, adventure, mystery, suspense, and intrigue in a show about spies taking on secret missions. But, in Mr & Mrs. Smith, one finds a slower paced, character driven, dramedy. A show about secrets and deception. About what we hide and what we share. The ways we bare our souls and what we can't can't bear to say. About learning trust, openness, vulnerability, and intimacy. In other words, it's a show about you and me.

This was probably my favorite scene:

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