lundi 8 octobre 2007

La Nuit Blanche: PARTIE DEUX

We headed back towards Metro stop Madeleine on line 14. We all decided, since there were no more lines to l'eglise de la Madeleine, we'd all check out what art exhibit was going on in there. We walked through the gates, and the guards made a joke saying, "Bonsoir...Bonjour" since it was almost 5 in the morning, but still dark out.We opened the door to l'eglise and darkness swallowed us. Instant reaction that came to mind: haunted house. Or haunted church. Anyway, we turned, and saw...I hope this description can do itself justice...blue floating tubes the size of 2-in. PVC pipes suspended above the floor of the church. At the end of one of the tubes was a person, guiding the blue tube through the space, tilting it up and down, left and right. These people were standing at least 10 feet above the ground, perched on these sort of lifeguard towers. There were at least 10 of these people throughout the church. They were playing this strange ambient music and lights would move slowly over these "fishermen", as Morgan called them.The audience, or participants--us, basically--would randomly get chosen by the fisherman when the tube comes to you. You put the ear to the tube, and the fishermen were whispering things through the tube. It was surreal. I sat back and watched for a bit, taking it all in. It was really trippy. I tried to keep my laughter in when people would raise their hands, wanting to be picked, and not get picked. Just let it come to you, guy.

Morgan came to us, saying how cool it was. She got picked. The fisherman spoke to her in French and Spanish. I decided to try it out for myself. I stood below the fishermen, waiting to be picked. One guy picked me, and he whispered something about "la bruit" (noise). And that was it. Wasn't that amazing. I moved on, into the thick of this blue light saber sea.

I waited and waited in between several fisherman. Finally this lady chooses me, but this guy tries to get in on it. She waves her finger no to the guy, and she points to me. The guy lets the tube go and hands it to me. She puts her mouth on one end, and I put my ear to the other. We lock eyes in the darkness, I can sense it.

In a soothing whisper she asks, "Vous parlez francais, anglais, ou espagnole?" [Do you speak French, English or Spanish?]
Me: Je parle anglais et un peu de francais. [I speak English and a little French.]
Fisher (continuing in soothing whisper): Very good. Very good.

And, I swear to you, I stood there for five minutes with that glowing tube to my ear while she recited beautiful poetry just for me. She spoke in English and translated it in French. This is what I remember:

All days are nights for us to see...Yet sight I lacked, yet sight I lacked...
I can't remember all of it, and maybe I'm not supposed to, but I remember how I felt at that moment and what it meant to me. I don't know, that line "yet sight I lacked" just got to me for some reason. I even wrote it down on my arm after the whole experience so that I wouldn't forget it.

Just this idea about sight really got to me. I'm a film major, and to be a competent filmmaker, you have to have sight. You have to be able to tell a story through sight and in a way so that hopefully your viewer will see your vision, see what you're trying to get across. And that's difficult. It got to me. What can I show? What can I show people that makes me different than all the other filmmakers in the world? What do I have to give?

These poetic whispers from a stranger and a recent message from a friend helped me bring things to perspective. I don't know if I want to make films here. I thought I did, but I realized that I don't want to create something haphazardly just for a place. I feel like I would be exploiting it for its beauty. Maybe I had it right all along: this year isn't about film. It's about French. Maybe the signs that I've been getting (all the filming around me) is God's way of saying that film will always be around me, no matter what. That a break can be okay, even good for me. It definitely rules my life in San Francisco, and I don't want to let it rule my life here. I want to live, grow, enjoy. Gain a sight I lack. Focus on what I want to show as a writer and/or filmmaker and bring that to light and not make films for the sake of making films, for the sake of having a camera and a setting. This could change, these feelings. But if I do make a film, it'll be because I was truly inspired, because I wasn't out to exploit and defile.

On the lonely ride home, all I could think about was the reasons I had all-nighters back at home. They were all film related. Staying up to finish editing, filming or burning a movie to dvd. And those are all great reasons to do all-nighters, but it was nice to know that there are other reasons to stay up late. I really love film, and I love that it's a part of my life and that I want it to be my profession and career, but I just want it like that, to be a part. I don't want to be ruled by it. I want to make friends outside of it, have a life outside of it. There's just too much beauty in the world to shut non-film things out. If I want to be the best filmmaker I can be, I can't just be a filmmaker. If I want to be the best writer I can be, I can't just focus on my writing. I feel very strongly about this. This might not work for a lot of people, but I think it works for me. I have to let other things in. "Yet sight I lacked...yet sight I lacked..."

UPDATE: Will blog at the end of the week about my classes. Until then, be well!

2 commentaires:

Ihuixochitl a dit…

That night was insane! How did we do that!? LOL

elaine a dit…

i don't know, but i'll never regret it.