I watched a very articulate documentary tonight, Surviving Progress. It was largely cathartic as it touches on so many issues, thoughts and concerns that I’ve had for years now. It’s about the human condition and presented honestly in the context of nature. If you decide to watch it, be careful as it can be disturbing. It was a little that way for me, and I’ve been studying this subject matter for about nine years now. I don’t write much about it because it’s frankly too depressing in many ways.
However, this film doesn’t come across that way . . . sobering yes, disturbing yes, yet still with a calming eloquence about it . . . the humanity of the those involved somehow shines through much of the horror. Oddly enough, there is prominent mention of the question, “Why?” and I mean that in the broadest sense. For years now I’ve viewed that as an almost dangerous question – a very mysterious one – and perhaps ultimately part of our collective Achilles heel?
Much More Than A Clock
Coincidentally, today also marks a day of the release of new scientific findings and warnings concerning climate change. This too struck a nerve, one that runs deeply in all my creative endeavors. The strike came by a statement made by a scientist on the news, “We’re running out of time.”
Such a simple statement perhaps it summarizes our entire predicament . . . our distancing from Nature and the absence of balance within it. I’m still amazed by how few people make the connection between time and gravity – they are inseparable – if we are “out of time” yet gravity continues, what does that say about us? Again, I no longer want to ask “Why?”
I’m sorry this is maybe a sad post to read. Still, it’s what’s on my mind. As a person who loves art, especially the process, I can’t help but wonder if it still has meaning anymore . . . have we passed a turning point that way too? More and more it just feels that way, though I wish it didn’t.
Ending On Another Timeless Moment
Finally, in the spirit of time, I’m going to post a little bit of writing. It’s from my first novel, one that will never be published. After I writing it I knew that these 121,000 words were not the right ones to launch upon the world, or even a few hundred readers! Still, it was a wonderful confidence booster and there was a lot of joy in the process.
Like Dawn at Last it has its tender moments. Since completion I’ve always felt like the only thing that really mattered were the words in the last two paragraphs. Somehow even these few words made all the rest worth writing, unpublished and all. They make me smile and I find peace in them. Since the book will never exist, here is my precious ending . . . perhaps you can use your imagination and fill in the rest . . . the past of it or the future? Or both?
Here’s how it ends, and once again it has something to do with love. Without it why survive?
They remained in their upward gaze, into this and every night’s darkness, and though their eyes did not meet, a common smile spread from her cheeks through his cheeks. It began to rain softly, only a few drops here and there. Still no words were spoken, though Lance wanted to share his thoughts with her. He was thinking of all he had been through, the beauty he found in the mysteries of the universe, of love and peace. The joy of knowing mixed with the agony of explaining, like finding love in a drop of water and trying to pull it out, just to hold it and say, “See.”
At that moment Suzanne turned her gaze toward his face. She saw a raindrop on the side of his cheek and naturally she cupped his hand in hers, leaned forward and kissed his cheek on that very spot, saying simply and softly, “Voici.”