i decided to
rent a 30-yard dumpster
for 2020
⌘
i decided to
rent a 30-yard dumpster
for 2020
⌘
"How do I do that?" said with a softness of someone who really wanted to know.
This was the question a student asked me at the end of our photography class.
I was turning off the overhead fluorescents when the student approached. All the other photographers had left the building. The student and I were alone, standing face-to-face in front of the glowing TV screen. The moment felt sensitive and cinematic so I channeled Martha Graham and slowly lifted my willowy wrist. When my gesture reached the height of my protruded chin my palm turned upward and my fingers spread apart. I kept my gaze on the student’s eyes until absolute elegance turned my head toward the corner of the room. "Please take a seat over there."
"Over here, on the cushion?" asked the student while drifting towards a makeshift meditation dojo.
"Yes. Pick your favorite. I will sit on the other."
The student picked the purple cushion so I sat on the emerald one and slipped off my shoes. My socks were pink and the student's were skull and crossbones. "Nice," the student said while looking at my feet and sliding their backpack across the floor.
"Thank you," I replied as I sat up straight and rested my hands on the knees of my crossed legs.
Looking at my posture, the student mimicked my pose and easily twisted their legs into a perfect lotus. "I'm pretty limber," the student said.
We sat silently for a moment before I asked, "Why didn't you share a photo with the class today?"
"All my photos are black."
"Do you mean underexposed?" I was certainly curious.
"No, I mean black as in …" the student searched for the perfect word, "sadness."
"Oh, cool." I might have said that a bit too cheerfully, but I was a huge fan of the tender heart. "Can you show me one of your photos?"
The student straightened both of their legs and leaned way back. With a moan and a bit of tug, the student proudly revealed a beat-up digital camera that was wedged deep inside the pocket of their jeans. "Here we go." The student turned the camera on and said, "Ok, here's a photo I took yesterday," and then effortlessly settled back into a lotus.
I studied the black screen for a minute. "Tell me what you see?"
We looked at each other and adjusted our poses. We straightened our backs and aligned our chakras. Without rushing the student eventually spoke.
"Well, I was chilling at home thinking about the assignment. You asked us to capture a still-life of something that made us happy. I had just poured a tall pint of hot tea hoping it would open up my—you know—creativity. I wanted this photo to be great. I thought the light coming through the drape was perfectly soft and kinda trippy. I rested the camera in my lap and really studied the composition. I was mesmerized by the colors and the textures and the simplicity of it all. The tableau was incredibly soothing. My body felt so relaxed. I connected with all the goodness in the world. Was it my spirit? The primordial love of being? This was existence without thought. There were no words. I lowered my gaze in honor of this profundity. Then I remember my head started to bob and I think my finger triggered the shutter because when I woke up it was totally dark and the camera was still in my lap and the chamomile was cold and this is what happened."
"I love it.” We sat in stillness and continued our meditation of slow inhales and exhales. "Your photo is very Malevichian."
"Oh I think he's a wonderful actor. But how so?"
"Not Malkovich. Malevich."
"Say what?"
"Kazimir Malevich created a painting in 1915 called, Black Square, which was an experiment of his Suprematist principles of art. Malevich stated that Suprematism is abstract art based upon the supremacy of pure artistic feeling rather than on the visual depiction of objects."
"Pure feeling," the student muttered.
"Malevich was a rebel of sorts. Brave. His concepts challenged the Russian politics of the time which attempted to limit artistic freedom. He was like, nah."
"I can dig it."
"So how did your photo make you feel?"
"Happy I suppose. Content. But kinda sad too. I want to have better control of my feelings. I don't want to sleep on happiness—that would be lame."
"You are doing just fine. You have the miksang! That's Tibetan for good eye."
The student laughed, "Thanks."
"In regards to your question, why don't you set up that chamomile scene again and do exactly what you did the last time. Relax your body, connect with your spirit, and tame your inner dialogue. Perhaps you can lift your gaze just a tad? This helps me from falling asleep."
As the student grabbed their backpack and slow-rolled towards the exit, they remembered their camera was still on the meditation cushion. "I almost forgot."
In reverence I said, "You are the sad photographer."
The student picked up their camera and with a stunning pirouette of grace and precision exited the classroom and whispered,
"And that makes me brave."
⌘
"How long do we have to keep watching this crap?" - The opening line of The Longest Yard spoken by Anitra Ford.
Anitra was talking about football, right?
I saw The Longest Yard when it was first released in 1974. I remember enjoying the film. I was also a budding football fan back then, and since I was born in Pittsburgh, loyal to the Steelers as documented by my golden corduroy suit. I loved sitting in that bean bag, surrounded by family and laughter. Here we go!
Everyone in my family is a ridiculous Steeler fan. Everyone, except my brother. He was partial to the home team, and still is: the Los Angeles Rams. Although he's been living in Las Vegas for a couple of decades, there is no way he will be drinking that Raiderade. John loves a good four quarters as much as anyone and I've never seen him root against the Steelers, because, how could he, I mean, the entire family is wacko for the black and gold.
My family lived in the San Fernando Valley in 1974, but my first memory of watching a Steeler game was in Pittsburgh, 1975. The Steelers were playing the Vikings in Super Bowl IX. My Grandma was really sick and she was in the hospital, which is why we traveled back to PA. We watched the game on the TV in her room. Grandma was cool.
Ever since 1975, watching the Steelers is like being home for Thanksgiving. Everyone is at the table. The food is good, the drinks are bottomless, and the TV ... is ... on. You get hoarse watching the game. Veins pop out of your head. And I haven't watched a game with the family since we lost to the Packers in the Super Bowl, 2011. The Mendenhall fumble. Damn. Most of my family lives in California, so I've been watching the games with my gentle partner, Elle, who tames my enthusiasm, in a good way. That's the thing about our family and the Steelers; it's family bonding even if we aren't physically in the same room. We watch together, in our hearts. It may seem like a bunch of hut-hut, but it's just our way of showing total and absolute love towards each other.
Silver Linings Playbook (SLP) does a wonderful job of depicting family football love. SLP came out in 2012. I hate to be a spoiler, but Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence fall in love at the end. That ain't a fluke. Silver Linings Playbook was produced nearly 40 years after The Longest Yard. Jennifer Lawrence was not only the smartest football person in the room, but she was also the lead character. She was fierce. And she was a woman.
There were only two women in The Longest Yard. Burt Reynolds assaulted the first woman and we never saw her again. He ended up in prison for the offense. While in prison Burt had sex with the other woman—and we never saw her again. When I recently rewatched The Longest Yard, I realized the film is an abusive sausage party full of rage and hate. But I remember enjoying the film on the bean bag. I was eleven years old, it was the 70s, and I was truly energized by the revenge aspect of the picture. I was oblivious to the depiction of women in the film and I had no idea that rage wasn't an act of loving kindness. And neither was the hatred inspired Jim Crow racism that was prevalent in the movie. The San Fernando Valley was full of White people in the 70s. If it wasn't for busing and my parents having an interracial couple as their best friends, I knew absolutely nothing about the Black experience. And btw, the husband of my parents besties played in the NFL for the Chicago Bears. Football love.
Anitra knew.
The script of The Longest Yard was written by Tracy Keenan Wynn, who also wrote the screenplay for The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman, a story that depicts the struggles of Blacks as seen through the eyes of Miss Pittman, a slave at the end of the Civil War. Before the Civil War, Blacks were enslaved for 242 years. After the Civil War, Blacks were enslaved by Jim Crow laws until 1965. After Jim Crow, Blacks were enslaved by prisons, which continues today.
When Anitra said, "How long do we have to keep watching this crap?" I like to believe she was referring to hate and rage and how one of its byproducts is killing the soul of America.
By the end of the film, the Blacks and Whites rallied around each other to defeat the oppressor. As an eleven year old, I could definitely see the good in that.
Kind of a happy ending I guess.
Love rules.
⌘