Living in Dreams

After seeing 'The Science of Sleep' this weekend, I feel the need to point out the recent thematic phenomenon of what I can only call dream movies. I'm not sure when or how it started, but film-makers have been possessed by the ability to recreate dream-like visions a lot lately. A few examples:
* Mulholland Drive
* Momento
* Waking Life
* Vanilla Sky
* Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (thanks, Joe)
The technical possibilities of the film genre allows these artists to show us exactly what goes on in the deepest parts of their psyches.

I recall the first time I saw Mulholland Drive. I hardly "got" anything about it, and I loved that! The style of the narrative -- the ordered chaos of it -- made me appreciate the filmmaker as an individual whose understanding of the world was very different from my own. A few weeks after seeing the movie, however, I read some reviews that analyzed the plot and events in the movie and explained which parts of the narrative were dream, and which parts were reality. I was frustrated with the reviewer for applying a resonable solution to what I had enjoyed as a rich and chaotic glimpse into the filmmaker's brain, but I also wondered if the movie was supposed to be just that -- a puzzle to be solved and be done with.

There are, certainly, different ways of responding to art -- if you squint at an impressionist painting, you get a better idea of the particular objects depicted in the scene; but if you stand and absorb the painting for a while, you begin to understand the painter's emotional response to his setting. The fact that the artwork is able to portray a feeling is powerful and important. In the same way, dream movies allow the viewer to understand the way real-life occurances affect the subconscious, and how unique our responses are to the experiences we share.

I love the chaos of dream movies, and I can only assume that they are a thrill to make -- showing an audience the most accurate vision of every strange detail of your dreams. But I do wonder where this genre is going. Will the visual of another's imagined world give voice to our own imagination? Or will the chaotic scenes overpower and confuse our creative energy?

"Even the most reluctant imagination will not be able to resist..."

Diane brought in a treasure to work today – a children’s book called “The Mysteries of Harris Burdick”. It is a series of 14 single illustrations from 14 different stories, which were to be written and the artwork completed by their original author, Harris Burdick. Mr. Burdick never contacted his publisher in order to complete the assignment, and the illustrations remained unused for a few years.

Chris Van Allsburg, the author of "The Polar Express", discovered the drawings in the home of his publisher friend. Each illustration was accompanied only by the title of the story and a short caption. The caliber of the artwork and the teasing captions, however, tantalized Van Allsburg's imagination enough that he determined the work was indeed worth printing.

As it stands, the book contains a marvelous exercise for the imagination. The reader cannot help but create stories in her head; I can pretty much guarantee that some of the images will be settings in my dreams tonight. I looked through the book and thought of endless ways to use it as a teaching tool. You could write dialogues between the characters in the pictures, or do a "what happened before/after" assignment. You could even have kids re-create the scene in color (all the drawings are black and white), and see what happens.

When I was younger, I didn't particularly enjoy the imagination exercises we were assigned in class. Now, however, I can see the incomparable value in cultivating this skill. Van Allsburg's book of drawings has just made it to #1 on my list of gifts I will be giving my neices and nephews when they are old enough.

Cliche is the Way

I am reliving angsty college student-ism today. Its fun. One of my friends just bought us tickets to see Ani next Friday at the Chicago theater, so I have been celebrating my relationship with her and anticipating the day (so soon!) when we will finally meet. That's right, I'm joining the hundreds of thousands of young women who have felt the intense need to express what Ani means to them -- and in blog format nonetheless. How cliche.

But wait. Why do I feel sheepish loving her music so? She's an incredible guitar player and the lyrics of her songs are just so exactly, precisely, the expression of my feelings in so many different situations, at so many different points in my life. And just because there are tons of other girls out there who listen to Ani and cry about their respective issues -- does that make it cheesy? Am I just another girl whose favorite singer is Ani DiFranco? Lord, its true.

I was talking to my mother on Monday and she had a new concept she was exploring: institutionalization. (Whenever we chat, there is always some key term that anchors our conversation. Last week it was 'synchronicity' and she was counselling me that moments of synchronicity in life are little signs that we are on the right track. We've actually had that conversation before, but its a good one to come back to.) Anyway, she asked if I had been to my church lately and I said I hadn't because I now work on Sundays and I can never make it. The real reason she was asking, though, was because she wanted to point out that churches are 'institutions' of faith, which is paradoxical in a way because faith should be and is an individual's unique set of beliefs -- that the only reason it is 'institutionalized' is so that each individual "doesn't have to reinvent the wheel". In a similar fashion, she pointed out, education (her profession) has been institutionalized to help guide each individual toward a life doing something they enjoy.

Now, of course I am not saying that Ani is a religion (I shouldn't have even gone there, but typing that made me laugh), but she is a sort of institution in her own right. There is no question that she layed the foundation of something extremely powerful, and I have some thoughts on what exactly that is.

For many girls -- of all orientations and all backgrounds -- Ani made possible a world of self-expression that is unabashedly literal. I will never forget an open mic performance at The Point in Bryn Mawr, PA where a girl with recently chopped hair and a giant guitar played a never-ending song recounting every detail of her recent break-up with (if I I recall correctly) the first girl she ever dated. And the fact that this performance was viewed by some of my friends as cliche, only tells of the niche that was so accurately met by Ani's style of literalism.

So, rock on, Ani fans. Embrace that tiny part of you that crumbles into uncontrollable emotion when you hear the perfectly stated lyric to the most moving melody followed by an angry strum. If listening to 'You Had Time' makes you want to tell the world how complex love is, then do it. If hearing 'Your Next Bold Move' turns you into a rock star, I'm all for it. Just because she inspires all kinds of people -- weirdos, intellectuals, and 13-year-olds -- doesn't mean you should be embarrassed about that little piece of your heart that wants to write poems. Go ahead and make us proud!