Impressions left on the green knoll
in June,
your youth sprinkled upon the grass
like dismantled wildflowers,
a smattering of muted color set upon the
heather like a canvas in wait-
your kiss sang on the wind like so many
birds heaving their pride into the weave
of the afternoon…
you blinked,
and the door opened to a foreverworld
cast in the stone of the ancients,
a delicate permanence spread wide like a glittering empire
before my eyes, but only for an instant-
verdant dreams sway on the minutes of June
like grass scattering on the breeze,
impressions left on the knoll like the shadow of your
youth,
muted color set upon the warmth like a canvas awaiting
its soul*
Summer drifts behind the clouds
as the autumn sheds its skin
and howls wildly into the crisp of the
night air-
the moon shines upon the winter
frost,
while spring slumbers and dreams of
the yellow tint of April-
seasons linger and fall like the rushing
tides,
years drift along the wind like the scattering
of a thousand leaves…
another gone, another sleeping patiently,
waiting for its time to open eager eyes-
we all drink from the same cup,
our wine as sweet as our intention*
Much Love and Respect to all.
Thank you for taking the time to browse the page; your support is very much appreciated.
Happy New Year and best wishes for 2015!
One for the moon and two for the stars,
lips bound under the cover of dark winter skies-
they winked at us in a thatch of blue,
as our breath spilled into the world in a frozen
hush*
I’d seen love on the screen, written in pixels and
colors and scattered dialogue-
love plastered onto billboards and left to peel and
fade under the harsh sunlight,
their meaning flaking away like dry, molted skin-
love was seen in magazines, mannequin smiles
pasted in a glossy frame and frozen into paper
realism for all time,
just one dimension of the whole sphere-
love finds its way into all places,
creeping into play like water penetrates dry soil,
there to ferment or to grow,
to nourish,
or to evaporate-
your eyes, like starfire, peered beneath my skin
like a telescope peers into the soul of a distant
world,
and reminded me of the wholeness of
things-
what will I take with me from this place?*
Like ships laden with cargo, we voyage with packed holds
deep into the belly of the unknown,
an eager armada robust with the vigor of exploration
and the scintillation of mystery,
calm under the tremble of uncertainty and the
trickle of trepidation-
our nostrils flared and full,
lungs satiated with the rush-
what adventure awaits beyond the spray…
sea foam skies wash within the clouds like a high tide
still life,
intention spoken on letters of green and blue-
words without end, thoughts without aim,
swirling around our feet like the rushing sea,
our tale penned gently and tucked tightly in the bottle cast out
into the wide blue fields,
our souls forever woven in its ink*
It has been said (and can succinctly be argued) that a film’s score can sell a scene as good as (and often better than) any actor, as the musical components tend to lend a cinematic depth that can reveal much more than pure dialogue alone. A memorable film score can provide an added edge that can ‘make or break’ a scene, accentuate an actor’s delivery, and suffuse a character with layers that would otherwise largely go unnoticed without an aural connection.
John Barry, English composer, was a master at capturing the galactic grandeur of a Main Title, one who understood the inestimable power of understated simplicity, and possessed the skill to craft three dimensional progression throughout the course of his tunes. The timeless elegance that accompanies his work hearkens back to the old Hollywood theme of big scores, big instrumentation, and big musical personality, all tidied up and packaged into a tightly orchestrated, multi-layered track. John Barry, a composer whose vibrant, melodic pieces reveal a magnitude that digs straight to the heart of a script, and whose tunes resonate magically with any dialogue.
Indecent Proposal – Indecent Proposal –
Dances with Wolves – John Dunbar Theme –
Dances with Wolves – The Love Theme –
Dances with Wolves – Kicking Bird’s Gift –
Dances with Wolves – Farewell and End Title –
Dances with Wolves – The Buffalo Hunt –
Dances with Wolves – Rescue of Dances with Wolves –
Words are just the pigment behind a thought,
the brush strokes that smear the world with grains of
intention, fodder for interpretation-
they are the burst of color for flashes of brilliance,
the random ink globules that scatter the paper,
the errant sunburst that illuminates an old photo-
words are visual incarnations of the heart’s ideas and
sketches,
echoes in the dark,
whispers hushed into the cushy retreat of
our vulnerability,
soft to the touch
like a silken weave brushed against our skin…
that familiarity-
that comfort-
that halo of warmth radiating from a sunset-
words are just the price tag on the car,
the miniscule glint of sunshine on the dew drop that sets it
aglow,
the flicker of blue moonlight between the December reaches
of the cold, black limbs-
just the pigment-
just the beginning-
just the quiet respite in the eye of the storm…
words-
spoken,
written,
hidden or expressed,
form a path meant to be sought,
followed,
and lived*
Hollywood has long been accent confused; the mere hint of an accent is meant to suffice for any nationality on Earth. Britons generally serve as the universal go to voice for any global race, as Britons have systematically portrayed German Nazis (Valkyrie, The Eagle Has Landed), Vikings (The 13th Warrior), and most recently North Africans/Egyptians (Exodus: God and Kings). We are forced and made to believe that any accent is better than no accent at all, an absurdly pervasive premise that is shoved down our movie going throats on a regular basis. It hearkens back to the days of ingorance when Laurence Olivier and Constantin Stanislavski portrayed the Moorish character Othello, and the screen was full of white men and women masquerading as Asians and Native Americans (such as Stephen Macht as Heavy Eagle in The Mountain Men), and every other non white ethnicity on the planet. Only in the very recent modern times have ethnicities been able to…shocker…portray themselves.
A classic example of accent forgiveness is Kevin Costner in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Costner’s 1991 take on the legendary English tale. As is commonly known, Robin Hood was the fabled English outlaw of Sherwood Forest who challenged the evil authority of the Sheriff of Nottingham, robbing from the rich and winning the hearts of the poor on his way to literary glory. It would be assumed that, portraying such a well known figure of English lore, either an Englishman would assume the role, or someone that was adequately capable of producing the necessary English-ness that would make believers out of even the most discerning viewers. Instead, we got Kevin in his most typical All-American self, with zero (and I mean zero) hint of credibility that he is the famous English longbowman who made the forest of Sherwood his bitch. We got Robin of Cincinnati, who sticks out like a sore thumb as the only one sounding like he’s from Akron, Ohio while being surrounded by a largely British cast. Even Morgan Freeman got his Moor on, while Christian Slater and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio sufficiently mustered thinly veiled European impressions. I remember seeing this film in the theater as a kid, and even then thinking “what the hell”. Behold, Robin of Montana in all his American splendor.
Wisely, they kept the original trailer dialogue free, which deftly concealed his distinct American-ness. This wordless 2 minutes of trailer quite effectively duped the public:
James Horner, American composer, has led a uniquely prolific career scoring music for film for over 30 years. Attached are varied selections of his work.
Each piece is a lushly interwoven study full of dense sentimentality, laced intoxicatingly with a powerful cinematic emphasis. Each piece is, in itself, a singular work of audial art. Horner’s melodies form a solid foundation for action, romance, and adventure elements, and overall, his work stands tall among the most emphatically rich in terms of film scores. A personal favorite.
musings at random. 