I inserted and spun “The Prairy Home Companion” today. The movie reminded me of my fathers gereration, of the family Christmas skits the neighbourhood would gather to share, of my Grandparents’ Victrola waxes and box of conicle replacement needles. Mostly of all it reminded me of the many ways we find God, find the muse, find humanity, find peace, become the flow, or, “get right”, as Lily Tomlins character said. “Music is the only way I get right”.
Sex is my way. And writing. And laughing with children. And being drunk.
Next I spun a movie about Bethoven, and the alluring assistant who stood apart enough to be such a strong character to be aluring. He was a savant, with personality problems. Like to Sarah. We can appreciate the depths that some people connect, and Bethoven was ultimately not judged by his foul temper. His legacy was in how deeply he went into his way.
Then there are the mathematicians, talking about moments of oneness when the insight clarifies, all in a suddenness.
One of the most interestesting factoids Newscientist.com reported on is that innate talent is most often a product of training. Great writing, great musicianship, great chess playing, come from really being obsessed with your subject, endlessly fascinated by it. You train your brain and it grows the connections required to see more and more complex patterns.
The prairy home companion showed how there is a community, going back generations, perhaps millenia, of performance artists, that pay close attention to timing, to change of mood, to improvisation, to all the subtleties they pay attention to. That is their way.
My way is very sexual. It’s a shame that people put down my way. It’s just one part of many ways, one way.