There is positively something divine in a pure capture of beauty. I haunt for it in every waking moment. I buy books in hopes that the prose will propel me into something beyond myself. I buy music in hopes that the notes will stir something in me, raise me beyond my physicality into something surreal. Something more real then life itself.

I’m a sucker for stills.

I sell myself as as an art-philosopher.

I give lectures daily in my bathroom mirror. Attendance is low but quite dedicated.

I approach film with a monastic interest. Is it strange that I seek peace within the confines of a film?

Well Arvo Part once said, “The complex and many-faceted only confuses me, and I must search for unity. What is it, this one thing, and how do I find my way to it? Traces of this perfect thing appear in many guises — and everything that is unimportant falls away…. I have discovered that it is enough when a single note is beautifully played. This one note, or a silent beat, or a moment of silence, comforts me.”

And I like that.

Ermanno Olmi, one of my personal Patron Saints of Cinema once said..“Today… you have to stab a man in the stomach nine times to get the same effect.  And everyone is paying a very high price, figuratively as well as literally, for this kind of exploitation. …The only question is how long it will take for a revolt on the part of those who produce as well as those who consume such cinema.  I am not an optimist at all costs, but I do believe in the will to survive of life itself, and that when we have come to the end of our cunning and cleverness to trick the good earth, and with it Saint Cinema, into producing more and more, the both of them will rebel against us.  Film art—cinematographic suggestion, if you like—will refuse at a certain point to participate in its own corruption and even prostitution.”

And I thought that was rather true.

And that’s only the beginning.