Is love a choice?
I was first introduced to the work of Terrence Malick by an Art Professor and mentor a little over a year ago in Orvieto, Italy, where I was studying abroad for the semester. He brought our drawing class into a tiny little theater in the town’s library, and before he popped Days of Heaven - Malick’s 1978 debut about love and loss on the depression-era Texas plains, into the projector - he gave us a brief pep talk. He told us a little bit about what to expect when watching a Malick film, but beyond that, he didn’t give much more than this simple admonition: “When you find yourself wondering if you’re missing something, wondering if this film is just airy, incoherent, pretentious eye candy,” he said, “I suggest you err on the side of wonderful.”
What makes change?
But what if we're missing it? What would happen if our fascination with change shifted to an obsession of same? We wake up in the morning at the same time. We wear the same clothes. We take the same route to work. And we work the same job. Each and every day. Over and over again.
Are you enough?
Is there such a thing as solitary spirituality? Documentary filmmaker Vikram Gandhi seems to think so and he goes to great lengths to make his point. Having encountered one too many so-called gurus who seem only interested in fame and fortune, Gandhi sets out to show that anyone can play the role of spiritual leader. Anyone, that is, with the right appearance, accent, and access to slightly gullible middle-class suburbanites. Gandhi possesses the first two and travels to Arizona to find the third.
What is redemption?
Redemption is messy. It’s not a smooth liner process. This is part of what makes it such a profound piece of life, but also what makes it so difficult to represent. So often small anecdotes of redemption seem to cut out the mess and the victims are redeemed and the villains get theirs…then the credits roll. But this doesn’t seem to ring true in my own life.
What logos define your story?