By J. Michael Martinez
Imagine — in front of us — they silently pass. And they believe unrelated objects are machines
for recognizing the human. And, again, we are no longer interruptions.
Imagine — in front of us — the beginning is not a study. And they believe the cicada's larva
reveals narrow secrets. And we accompany: to form, to shape.
Imagine — in front of us — a beautiful garden. And they believe color is the shoreline's end
where we abandon our too sudden bodies. And, here, we are carriers of different significance.
Imagine — in front of us — each word devolves a lexicon. And they believe shape shuts on a hinge
within the voice they fable. And, here, we slaughter the spring lambs.
Imagine — in front of us — they pass us between nature, between history. And they believe the door
frame alters the curtains' flow. And we are a dark summer moving against oceans.
Imagine starlings circling in a postcard's blue. And they believe oration is the living thing, the end
of geometric space. And here, in full sunlight, we are gifts hoisted to the vanishing point.
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Cheryl and my family had a movie day for President's Day -- first Winter's Tale, then Philomena. I really liked both movies and am not entirely sure why the one has been slammed by the critics while the other is a Best Picture nominee; structurally, Winter's Tale is complete lunacy while Philomena is quite predictable in its docudrama structure, they both have performances stronger than the screenplays, they both have wonderful though radically different cinematography. Dench's performance is wonderful -- I do hope she wins the Oscar -- and I liked Farrell a lot, which is not always the case; he and Brown Findlay have nice chemistry, though it's much more interesting watching him and Crowe snark at each other, and fun to find Crowe's Robin Hood buddies playing his minions.
In between the movies, we stopped at Michael's to look at jewelry findings, shadow boxes, and cutout decorations while other members of my family were getting kitty litter, and both before and after the movies, we watched a couple of episodes of Shoujo Cosette, which is utter crack yet totally enjoyable as versions of Les Miserables go. After Cheryl had to go home, we had burgers and watched the version of Les Mis skated by Chock and Bates in the ice dance long program while we waited for Virtue/Moir and Davis/White, who were both glorious, though I do think it was Meryl and Charlie's year; their footwork and lifts were absolutely stunning (and I couldn't help thinking about Blumberg and Seibert, who had their bronze medal snatched away over the same music). A couple of pics from Brookside Gardens on Sunday:
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