rlbourges

Salut, l’artiste.

In Collages, Film, Hautvoir, Theater, Uncategorized on February 20, 2010 at 8:45 am

There are two “real” topics to my evening last night: the one documented in the photos I took before and after the point pictured above, and the one I recorded for myself during my walk from one venue to another. The evening was devoted to a celebration of a film shot locally,  Mission Socrate. The reception at City Hall was anything but conventional, the entire assistance (including the Mayor) joining the actors for a Socratic lie-in on the marble floor. The live show and the film that followed played to a packed house at the local cinema. The scene was probably just as zany at the bar afterwards, but at that point, I was walking home in the same state of mind as when I took this picture.

If, for you, bright lights signify happiness and darkness conveys gloom, that’s how you’ll read the above photograph. Your privilege; simply know that’s not what it represents to me.  Simply put, it’s the space between – between events, between identifiable sensations and emotions; the place of perception, just before the naming and the labelling start. The place of aloness.  The empty bag of tricks out of which all the tricks are produced.

For the main actors of the evening, that moment probably came after the bar scene. At some point after (or between) the applause at the cinema; after (or between)  the congrats, and the quips, the good feelings and the barbs. It may have started as a slight let-down of ‘over so soon’, while unlocking the car; followed by the slight (or huge) anxiety of ‘what do I do next?’; then, the mulling over of so-and-so’s attitude; the plans for the next show, the next film, the next useful contact; finally, the search for the adult’s equivalent of the security blanket –  the familiar thought, feeling or sensation that unlocks the sleeping space. Sleep. Dream. Wake. At some point, out of the empty place, you  know that you are you. From there, you take it from the top.

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