Echoes and Moments

Ah, the allure of the international film. Perhaps "international" is too loose a term, since the main characters all speak English. Oh yeah, and the stars have been in worldwide blockbusters like the Harry Potter and Ocean's Eleven series. Check the trailer: Despite your expectations from the trailer, The Guard offers a moviegoing experience you likely won't encounter many other places this fall. Most big screen releases here in America don't allow you to ponder deep ethnic and cultural wounds in a movie that's supposed to be a comedy. To be fair, the thing was marketed to American audiences as a buddy cop movie with quick one-liners between a country dweller and the straight yankee foreigner, with racist jokes to boot. But the film deals with themes like grief of death, loss, racism (for real), and purpose. Brendan Gleeson is the key here, perhaps you know him as Mad-Eye Moody from the Harry Potter films. He shines with a searingly sarcastic humour that...

As is common with many people my age, I find myself quite adept at navigating the viral video market. This pastime can return moments of great joy, yet also proves a distraction from my most pressing concerns, like my senior project, work with students, girlfriend... You get the picture. But every once in a while, something comes along that serves to yield epiphanies that Archimedes himself could never dream of. I give you such a video, a visual metaphor of my life at this point in time. Perhaps it can speak to the depths of your soul as it did to mine.

I enjoy writing. I want to share. But be aware of what you get yourself into as you scroll (or troll) these posts.  If you ever have a conversation with me, you'll notice how much of what is going in my heart is expressed in abstract concepts and thoughts. This is a window into my condition, since my postmodern young adulthood tendencies persuade me to throw everything under a subjective light. I am a harsh critic of my own words. Yet stories run deep within my blood, nurtured in my ancestors long ago in the farms of Poland and the high desert of New Mexico. Every moment has a story to tell, just as Jesus stopped and responded when some men audaciously broke into the room where he was teaching for the sake of their paralyzed friend. These moments threaten to slip by if I simply carry on without reflection.  I've always enjoyed writing, and keep a journal of the deepest rhythms within. This is not that place, but I hope that which stirs me into writing this blog may reso...