When the renovation process started it was pretty dramatic. Walls came down. Floors came up. Piles of demolition refuse took over the backyard. There was something new to see each time I returned home. Now things have slowed somewhat. The changes are minimal, almost unnoticeable.
I know there is no rushing through this stage. This is that critical stage when the foundation is being laid. The correct wiring done so the light switch will be in the right place, the lights will illuminate where light is needed. I don’t want to be impatient but it’s hard to get through this phase so I went to the movies!
I realized that I’ve come to use the cinema as an escape. Before this current trip to the movies, the last time I went I did so to get out of the 100+ temperatures for at least two hours. This time, I went to get myself out of the house so I wouldn’t stress about things that still needed to be done before this place would once again be comfortably livable. I thought I was seeing a movie about a music protege but when the a coming attraction for that movie appeared on screen, after a moment of confusion, “why were they showing a promo for the movie we were there to see?” I realized that I was not seeing that movie but another. The movie I was seeing was Birdman and was I in for a treat.
The movie is an adventure into dark comedy & magic realism with wonderful acting and original characters. Definitely worth seeing – even if you have nothing to escape.
Not having anyone to talk to about the movie when I got home, I went on line and read the criticism. I think much of it didn’t delve deep enough. For example, the voice that Michael Keaton’s character “Riggan” hears has been identified as his “superstar ego” or the voice of the superhero character that made him a star. I think the voice is much more than that, more universal.
Having reached a certain age, I think everyone looks back and wonders, “What happened to that eager, optimistic, ambitious person with so much promise, so much to do?” I think that’s the voice he hears. The voice of youth. The voice of the past. It reminds him of what he had been and what he expected to be. I am fortunate in that I work with a lot of young people. Their fearlessness, desire and sense of wonder sometimes makes me sad for the person I had been. I’m not old but I’m not that person anymore. I no longer bound out of bed anxious to be at my desk, eager to wrestle the problems of the day to the mat. As I hold for IT to solve my computer problems, I remember a vague past when I used to be the one to fix not only my own computer but my boss’. I spend more time thinking about my 401K than about my paycheck. I look forward my daily time out to meditate. Once I had been like my daughter is now. When I suggest she do a meditation with me she laughed and said, “I don’t have time to do nothing for twenty minutes!”
That’s the voice that nags at you when you reach a certain age. The voice that asks, what are you doing? The voice that reminds you of how much you used to believe you would accomplish.
This weekend to keep myself from counting the electrical wires hanging from the ceiling to see if there are more today than there were yesterday, I’m going to “Ballet Boyz.” An excellent way to distract myself – watching beautiful, athletic men leap across a stage. Where do you go to escape?