ideas : People : stories.
the Human Being stuff
As always, my goal for the year was 30 books. I finished with 34.
My Top Five Recommendations from the Year, in no particular order:
5. On Mental Toughness, by Harvard Business Review
4. Why Courage Matters : The Way to a Braver Life, by John McCain
3. When: the Scientific Secrets of Perfect Timing, by Daniel Pink
2. Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens
1. Get Out There : Normalize Greatness
Honorable Mentions:
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-N- Stuff : Books : Reading Log
I’ve mentioned before that the first post of every new year is difficult because it seems to set the tone for the year. Last year, after posting a comic strip from Calvin and Hobbs that highlighted the hope of coming adventure, the year was exactly that! Full of road trips, camping, Spartan races, and many large and small adventures. It was great! And I for sure don’t want that part of our family identity to flounder. But I also want them - and other aspects of life - to improve.
Take, for example, our recent vaunt through the streets of downtown Pittsburgh. Our train from Philly to Montana had a four hour layover so we tried to find a Starbucks to pass the time . . . in the middle of the night . . . with our umpteen bags of luggage dangling from our arms and faces. It was terrible. But it was also a great memory that we’ll share forever! It could also be so, so much better. If only I were better at being intentional (I know, kind of an easy/overly used word, but so what! It works).
I still don’t want to be boring or wasteful with my time and life. I do, however, want to be a bit more purposeful with the day to day that defines them. Recently, the specifics of what that could look like has manifested itself in three brilliant videos.
This is how I want to intentionally view my day to day. As music.
When something is off or frustrating its okay because the song isn’t over.
When something is beautiful and sweet, enjoy and relax. Smile.
Or, when something is, “meh,” look for the birds, see the melody. Enjoy the music.
Where this gets most difficult is that this has to be a choice, a day in and day out intentionally to see beyond the fuss and muck, the boring and mundane. And that, at times, can be difficult. But also worth it. Because the ending product is music, sweet music, and not the ugly cawing of murdering crows.
First off. I’m not crying, you are.
Second, there are a few easy takeaways from this. One, to make my wife feel more special. It’s easy to get trapped in the normalcy of life, to expect what was once new and thrilling or sweet, and no longer hearing the music of her life. I know I’m often guilty of doing so. This video reminded me to make the time, the effort, and the fun to love my wife and show her just how special she is. Because she’s worth it.
The second is this. A proposal is (I’m guessing) always special and a moment worth remembering, even the ones that required very little planning. The great ones, however, the kind of ones that make grown men cry are the ones that embrace planning and details and make sure it isn’t just an experience. They are intentional!! Which allows for one helluva an EPIC MOMENT!!! I have found that throughout my short adult life, I have had many experiences and therefore great stories to tell. But I also have very few EPIC MOMENTS!!! because I don’t plan. I just do.
This year and in the ones to come, I need to be intentional about creating at least one EPIC MOMENT each and every year. And with my oldest turning 13 this year, I think this year is covered.
There is a lot here, and for me to unpack it completely would probably result in a full and lengthy blog all its own. And ain’t nobody got time for that.
Instead, I’ll focus on a few things:
How one person inspired so many to do something so great. The montage at the end, when the narrator is describing why they did this, is truly inspiring. I love how he didn’t categorize his friendships throughout his life (high school friends, college friends, etc.), but merged them. And, how all of them, from all over the country, felt that something “a bit over the top” was a “fitting tribute to the friend who has always been the first to step up and make something happen for the rest of us.” I want to be this kind of friend.
Life and relationships. Again, from the narrator: “Even though this may seem a bit ridiculous, I would argue that it is a rare thing, to be able to celebrate a friendship by bringing together everyone’s creative energy and hard earned cash, to pull off a series of events that we will talk about for the rest of our lives. We’ve been doing it for each other since we’ve met. Different personalities, different strengths and weaknesses. Giving and taking, pushing and pulling, to get the best out of one another. I think that’s what life is all about. Joining an army of sorts, and fighting for the right reasons. Having each other’s back, and making sure we all enjoy life as much as possible.” Not a bad way to sum it all up.
Be Rambo. “In the face of danger, or heartache and pain, or lack of confidence, he’s always been there to provide laughter and a positive perspective. To lift us up. Inspire us. And show us how to be a bad ass in all aspects of life.” I want to be this kind of friend, husband, father, principal. I want to be Rambo.
In short, my takeaway from this film and carry with me through 2020 is to intentionally “stay positive. Stay creative. And keep each other laughing.”
(Side note. The last scene from Rambo for a Day, the “God didn’t make Rambo, I did” scene. That part really got me. Because it’s true. I would venture to say that the bulk of who Dana is was created by his dad. And the fact that his friends knew his father needed to be there - that he would WANT to be there - speaks a whole lot of feelings to me, as a son and a father. Damn.)
My word for 2020 is intentionality and these videos helped me flesh that out a bit.
Good luck to you and your new year’s ambitions!!! It’s gonna go fast:)
I never knew there was a Best Illusion of the Year contest, but now that I do, I’m stoked. I’m also in complete agreement. This optical illusion is ridiculous.
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I just love this.
Also, holy crap ER and Game of a Thrones!!!
In this episode of Vox Almanac, Vox’s Phil Edwards explores the beginning of rotoscoping, a technique animators can use to create realistic motion. Invented by Max Fleischer of Fleischer Studios (and echoed and practiced by many others), it involves taking filmed footage and using it as a traceable model for animation. The results are fluid and natural in a way animation had never been before (via).
I just love short documentaries like this, where we see the evolution of animation - from dancing ghosts to The Hulk. I tend to see where we are, not where we’ve been, and lose sight of all the minds and steps and beautiful moments all in between.
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Here are a few of my favorites from the past month. Some have been truly convicting (the last three mentioned), two just down right entertaining (Lost in America and Running with Donkeys), and one a bit of a can opener to the world of mental illness (Kirkbridge Plan) which was unconsciously followed by me watching The Joker, episode three of Modern Love, and two 30 for 30 documentaries - Rodman: for better or worse and Tommy , all of which deal with mental illness in one way or another.
Anyway, here are a few favorites from the past month or so! If you have any suggestions, let me know! I’m all ears.
Lost in America, by This American Life : Stories of people who are lost, histories that are lost, and things that are lost. This show was recorded onstage in front of audiences on a five-city tour in May 2003. The cities: Boston, Washington DC, Portland Oregon, Denver and Chicago.
Running With Donkeys with Chris McDougall : A few years ago, Chris’ family adopted a donkey named Sherman who had been neglected by an animal hoarder. Their solution to getting Sherman happy and healthy was to give him a purpose and teach him how to burro race, a feat that became an amazing adventure in itself. The book is Chris McDougall’s most personal work and explores the importance of purpose and community in how both animals and humans survive and thrive.
The Kirkbridge Plan, by 99% Invisible : Today, there are more than a hundred abandoned asylums in the United States, many of them not all that different from Buffalo State. It’s one of the reasons we’re all so familiar with the idea of the big empty asylum in the woods. Few stop to wonder where all these structures came from, but, in fact, all of this was part of a treatment regimen developed by a singular Philadelphia doctor, a physician who was obsessed with architecture and how it could be harnessed therapeutically to cure those who’d become insane.
Screaming Into The Void: How Outrage Is Hijacking Our Culture, And Our Minds, by Hidden Brain : An exploration of how the satisfactions of outrage affect our politics, our communities, and our minds.
Maslow’s Human Needs, by TED Radio Hour : Humans need food, sleep, safety, love, purpose. Psychologist Abraham Maslow ordered our needs into a hierarchy. This week, TED speakers explore that spectrum of need, from primal to profound.
Transparency, by TED Radio Hour : Sometimes, being truthful can be uncomfortable—even risky. But can radical honesty and openness change things for the better? This hour, TED speakers take transparency all the way to its limit.
Enjoy the day, and happy listening.
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Today, Thursday, was a bit rough.
With so many kids out for the Divisional Volleyball , I had great plans to get a LOT done. I even told myself on my walk to work, "It's going to be a quiet day!!!" Ten minutes after the morning bell, I had four kids in my office and I found myself barking at and getting extremely frustrated with the four often-times-offending culprits. What is so hard about following directions? I thought to myself, “How hard is it to be kind? Polite?” I said out loud and a bit louder than I intended.
Then, the volleyball team lost their third game to Augusta - a team they should have beaten handedly in three - and I was reminded of when I was a coach and how much I dreaded "easy" games because I knew, in many ways, those were the ones we could very easily lose because we just assumed we would win. I also dreaded those games because, as a team, we rarely got better. Often we got worse, and the ease with which we would score or steal the ball or rebound would enforce a false belief of how good we were. Difficult games, however, hard fought matches or underdog wins would do the complete opposite. They would force us to play harder, to fine-tune and fix the smallest of mistakes, to overcome our mental and physical exhaustion, and to work hard. Those games made us better. Better athletes, better coaches, and an overall better team.
I think the same could be said for teaching, principaling, and living in general.
Whenever something is easy (be it a class, a kid, or a goal), I can get lazy, complacent, or downright unmotivated because really all I have to do is show up and things will pretty much take care of themselves. (Maybe you can relate to this?) But when the obstacle or goal is tough, when the class is rowdy, the students are difficult, or the opponent extremely talented, I try my best. I get up earlier, plan for a few extra hours if not days in advance, and create a detailed plan of attack. In short, I rise to the occasion. I get better. (Maybe you can relate to this?)
You may have a particular grade or class that is hard, you probably have several students who grate on you and make each day difficult, and I can almost guarantee that with each looming break (Christmas and summer), kids get extra squirrelly, our patience a bit thin, and classes a bit more chaotic.
I also know it's all about perspective.
At the very least, these kids have the potential to make us better.They will require us to bring our best game, to consider new schemes and teaching practices, and they will force us to continually learn how to love and like people - to do what is best for people - even when we don't feel like it. In other words, they will make us better teachers, better leaders, and better people. Which, in turn, will allow us to teach and lead and inspire more people.
These are the victories that stay with use for years to come. Not the easy ones, the expected ones. It’s the hardest ones. Just like our volleyball girls who, yet again, took their rivals - the defending divisional and state champions to a five-game match and won!
These are the games that we remember. These are the games that make us better. Just like those difficult classes, those difficult students, and those difficult weeks. When we rise to the occasion, when we look on them as opportunities to improve and get better, we do! Then and only then, do we find ourselves at the end of the day, week, year holding on to memories that last a lifetime. Victories of changed and inspired lives. Victories that remind us of the very reason we became educators in the first place.
And that is an encouraging thought.
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The Slow Mo Guys are out with a new video!!!
These guys are pretty cool and have dozens of videos to get lost in.
Here are a few favorites.
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Don’t make fun of me - and I’m not sure why I feel embarrassed to admit, but I truly am enjoying this series. I’m on episode five. The first two were brilliant, the third took some time to get into, and the fourth didn’t quite hit the mark (for me at least), but the fifth was once again unique and beautiful.
Good acting, great stories, perfectly imperfect humanity. What else could you ask for?
Each episode is its own short story of love. They’re aren’t perfectly packaged and don’t answer all of our questions, but they answer enough. Largely, is love worth it? Is it complicated? And will I find it?
Yes. But not, necessarily, like we always think or hope.
For 15 years, Modern Love has brought personal essays about love, loss and redemption to readers of The New York Times. Four years ago, it became a podcast. And now the column has inspired an eight-episode series on Amazon Prime Video (via).
You can read the original essays that the episodes are based on here. There are even followup interviews with the writers who’s lives inspired the stories, which is pretty great because the stories, although beautiful and hard and sad and filled with more hope than 30ish minutes should be allowed to hold, there are still many questions unanswered. The four interviews helps. A little.
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The reason it’s so difficult to have a considered conversation about {religion, race, politics, gender, you name it} is that people feel threatened. Not by the implied criticism of the rituals or irrationality of a particular , but because it feels like criticism of their faith” (pg. 82).
Below are two videos about the Evergreen State controversy, surrounded by Seth Godin quotes from his book Tribes: We Need You to Lead.
“Tribes,” Seth Godin writes, “are about faith - about belief in an idea and in a community. And they are grounded in respect and admiration for the leader of the tribe and for the other members as well” (pg. 9).
“In a battle between sides,” he continues, “the best one doesn’t necessarily win. No, the idea that wins is the one with the most fearless heretic behind it” (pg. 43).
“A fundamentalist is a person who considers whether a fact is acceptable to his religion before he explores it. As apposed to a curious person who explores first and then considers whether or not he wants to accept the ramifications” (pg 63).
“A curious person,” he writes, “embraces the tension between his religion ( politics , beliefs, whatever) and something new, wrestles with it and through it, and then decides whether to embrace the new idea or reject . . . It has to do with a desire to understand, a desire to try, a desire to push whatever envelope is interesting” (pg 63).
“Religion at its worst” and I think it’s best to use that term generically, including all things outside religion, “reinforces the status quo, often at the expense of our faith” (pg. 81). Or, at the expense or our integrity, morality, and humanity.
The secret “is to listen, to value what you hear, and then to make a decision eve if it contradicts the very people you are listening to . . . People want to be sure you heard what they said - they’re less focused no whether or not you do what they said'“ (pg. 129.
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There’s a scene from my favorite movie, Liberal Arts, where the main character is trying to encourage a young genius but potential dropout why college is so important. “It’s one of the few places where you can read and write poetry, and no one will punch you in the face” (or something like that). I never really understood those that line, but what I think it means is that college is a place where one can experiment, try out new ideas and ways of living, say and do somewhat radical things, yet still be safe. Because their in college, and that’s where one is supposed to try and do new and somewhat radical things.
The same could also be, should also be, said about teacher conferences. At least, that’s my goal anyway, which is one of the main reasons I love presenting at them. And this latest conference, in Belgrade MT, was one of those moments.
I hosted a two-part presentation entitled, Social Media: The Library of our Time which was a fleshing out of a post I’d written about a year ago, Entertained to Death. The second part of the presentation was a hands-on workshop where we watched the following music video/short film:
For almost an hour, a room full of educators (English, history, math, music, art teachers and a few college students), we disected the hell out of this video, and it was truly awesome. Truly. And was a manifestation of all I had written about in Entertained to Death.
One of my takeaways, however, is this:
Student involvement: Because there isn’t much written about the videos/art, we the audience - the students - are responsible for the interpretations. We cannot rely upon another more “trusted” opinion on the matter. Our interpretation is the interpretation. We just need to defend it.
In the discussion, we had a great time coming up with possible interpretations and meanings, all of which were purposeful and deep - super deep, and a strong affirmation that this needs to make its way into our classrooms and cultures.
Goal: Get this into a short, more condensed written version for possible publication. Also, submit more workshops for next years MFPE Conference:
Autonomy with Standards
Social Media as Content: A Library of our Time (2 parts)
Prove You’re Alive (a sort of injection to inspire and encourage teachers)
Stories Matter: How stories can make us better people
PDP Notes: A possible note taking strategy
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My friend, Ron Hardy
I was in my third year of teaching, I think (maybe fourth) when much of my life was far from where I'd hoped it would be and I was beginning to struggle with confidence, joy, and purpose. Unsurprisingly, it began to impact my teaching, my classroom, and my students. Only, I didn’t notice.
Then, I somewhere around Christmas, I received an anonymous email from a student that was written from an anonymous email account informing me that I was not doing a great job, that my teaching was sub-par, and that he (I think it was a he, at least) and his classmates deserved better. Luckily, I received that email on a Friday so I could spend the weekend sulking, arguing, excusing, then finally accepting that he was right. I needed to do better. Because he and they and my colleagues and my family deserved better. And because I was better.
The following week I started writing, "Leave it at the door. be Awesome." on the bottom of every lesson plan. A few weeks in, I made it the footer to my lesson plan template which I have used ever since, reminding me each and every day I sat down to create a lesson to leave whatever struggles, issues, and frustrations I might have at the door and be Awesome.
I wasn't perfect after that, nor did I always leave everything at the door. In fact, every now and then I would gather it all in my arms, squeeze it through the door, then drop it right in the middle of the floor for all my students to see. Like the day I spent sharing memories of my childhood best friend because the night before I had discovered it was the anniversary of passing. He had been gone for almost six years, and I never even knew. We had lost touch over the years, and when I discovered he had passed away six years prior, I felt terrible, guilty, and at a loss.
I didn’t sleep much that night.
So I wrestled through it with my students, I shared some of my favorite memories, talked about how the night before I could only see so much of Ronnie in my son that I ended up holding him for almost an hour while I talked about my childhood friend, and I talked with them about loss and life and the struggle in between. Then I had them share memories of their friends and families and write brief notes to those they mentioned. It wasn't all that academic of a class, but kids referenced it for years as one of their favorite classes and, ever since, I have committed to sharing his story with whomever I can during the month of October, the month he so abruptly left this world.
Sometimes life and circumstances seem more than we can bare. Or, as Bilbo Baggins said, it can make us feeling exhausted and "thin . . . stretched, like butter, spread over too much bread."
In those moments, for me at least, it is healthy to remind myself that I am needed - by my students, my colleagues, my family, and my community. That I am bigger than my circumstances, better than what some might think or say about me, and that I am able to help and serve and do great things, even when I don't feel like it.
People need us. They need us to be great, to be better than we often feel and sometimes think. They need us to be their mothers, fathers, friends, counselors, encouragers, planners, champions, and safe places. They a need us to be Awesome. Which means, sometimes, that they need us to be vulnerable and open and raw. They need us to be human. Which is great! Because that is exactly what humans are. Awesome.
And because we are, we can also be.
Leave it at the door. be Awesome.
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I bet you never look at these chairs or those album covers or any concert where it might be featured the same way again.
I know I won’t.
But also, I just when artists have this sort of dialogue with other artists/historical figures. Not only does it show homage and respect to those people, it heightens their message, their purpose. If only I were smart or cultured enough to catch it on my own.
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“You have to be at peace with the fact that something might happen, and you might not make it through,” says Alexandra de Steiguer, the caretaker for the Oceanic Hotel, in Brian Bolster’s short documentary, "Winter’s Watch." De Steiguer has spent the past 19 winters tending to the 43-acre grounds of the hotel, on Star Island, which sits 10 miles off the coast of New England. In the long, wintry off-season, she is the island’s sole inhabitant. (via)
Reminds me of The Light Between Oceans, the book not the movie (that was terrible) and really makes me want to visit the hotel during the winter months.
Can you imagine what you could do and think up with all that time?
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Here are a few of my current favorites. Some are obvious, others not so much, just as some are full of depth and purpose and others are not. Either way, they all fit nicely into any road trip playlist.
Just ask my kids.
Just like Take Me to Church, Hozier delivers yet again with a deep and poetic song that rewards those who take the time and effort to look beyond its clever sound.
True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree
Willow dancing on air before covering me
Under garden and calicos
Over canopies that was long ago
True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me
That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree
Must be felt 'fore the fight that calls
Threatened fire but that was long ago
And it's not tonight (Ooh)
When I'm set alight (Ooh)
I'm blinking so (Ooh)
Your blinding light (Ooh)
Oh, let's not tonight (Ooh)
When you hold me tight (Ooh)
Light the fire bright (Ooh)
Let it blaze alright (Ooh)
Oh, hope that you're good to me
Oh you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, baby
With the roar of the fire my heart goes to its feet
Like the ashes of ash I saw eyes in the heat
Sitting soft in this purest snow
Fell in love with the fire long ago
Each love I could lose
I was never the same
Watch it's still living roots be consumed by the flames
I was fixed on your hand of gold
Laying waste to my loving long ago
And it's not tonight (Ooh)
When I'm set alight (Ooh)
I'm blinking so (Ooh)
Your blinding light (Ooh)
Oh, let's not tonight (Ooh)
When you hold me tight (Ooh)
Light the fire bright (Ooh)
Let it blaze alright (Ooh)
Oh, hope that you're good to me
Oh you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, baby
So you know there I stood
As you licked off the grain
Though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame
Long as ember, November glows
All the wood that I'd loved is long ago
And it's not tonight (Ooh)
When I'm set alight (Ooh)
I'm blinking so (Ooh)
Your blinding light (Ooh)
Oh, let's not tonight (Ooh)
When you hold me tight (Ooh)
Light the fire bright (Ooh)
Let it blaze alright (Ooh)
Oh you're good to me
Hope you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, Oh
Oh Hope you're good to me
Hope you're good to me
Hope that you're good to me, baby
Source: LyricFind
Like his relationship with the young lady, this song is shallow and all about the external. It sounds great through the speakers, especially when turned up high, but that’s it.
Bob your head, tap your feet, ignore the lyrics, and enjoy!
If you’ve watched GOT, that might be all you see at first. Which is perhaps what makes this song (and a few others) most impressive. That he is able to rise above his iconic character Grey Worm and produce a truly enjoyable song.
Those are my current favorites! If you have any suggestions, don’t be afraid to leave a comment and share it with us all!
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This past week I unexpectedly found a wad of money in by back pocket. I had put it there months ago while attending the National Principal’s Conference in Boston because I didn’t quite know how I wanted to spend it then but knew for sure I didn’t want to lose it. So I stashed it. Then, as I often do, I completely forgot about it.
A few days ago, Mr. Thompson (my boss) helped me find it. He also helped me figure out how to spend it.
“Do you know what the two most powerful words in the English language are?” Mr. Thompson asked. I was standing outside the school, greeting kids and fighting off the cold, “Love you?” I said, wondering where this was going.
“I am,” he said, “because what comes after ‘I am’ will shape your life.”
We then spent the next twenty minutes or so, high-fiving students and discussing the importance of “I am” and other things I don’t really remember because, to be honest, I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking. Unbeknownst to Mr. Thompson, while we were chatting and laughing and greeting the kiddos as they shuffled their way into school, he had metaphorically thrust his hand into my back pocket and pull out the wad of money that had been sitting there since Boston.
And now, unlike then, I couldn’t wait to spend it!
Brian McCann (@casehighprinc) is a principal in Massachussets and it was in his session at the National Principal’s Conference where I first heard of #PositiveSignThursday, a day where he would print out a positive message, take pictures with students throughout the day, then post them on social media. I thought it was a cool idea, but still I stuffed it in my back pocket because I didn’t quite know how I wanted to use it.
Now, inspired by the power of “I am . . .”, I do.
Conflict reveals truth. Or, as Priya Parker states, “conflict unearths purpose.” So when difficulties arise, when true conflict or strife occur in our lives, how one has been completing the “I am . . “ sentence will suddenly have flesh and blood. Suddenly the perception of themselves and why they are here is revealed.
“What comes after ‘I am’ will shape your life” the speaker says, “What you speak after ‘I am’, what you believe after ‘I am’ will control your decisions and shape your life.”
And for many of our kiddos, what they see in the mirror is not what they are. #PositiveSignThursday is one way I can help. For many it may be the first time they see and say, “I am strong”, “I am fearless”, “I am a champion.” It might the first time they say, “I am wanted”, “I am needed”, and “I am someone who can make a difference.” For others, “I am a fighter” or “I am more than my body” might be the reminder they need for that day, that week, that year, or their life.
Either way - and even if some think it cheesy - I’m in. All in. Because they’re worth it.
And so am I.
Great films have a habit of forcing me to scratch my head. And this one left a pile of dead skin on my shoulders. (gross. I know.)
Gene Roddenberry claimed at that “all art was an attempt to answer the question, ‘What is it all about?’” and I have taken that claim and held it up to almost every piece of worthy art I have come across.
For this one, I’m struggling to find an answer.
Here’s one take:
Negative Space is practically perfect. Like so many shorts I admire, the film incorporates multitudes of seemingly contradictory qualities: at a mere 5 minutes, there is really no wasted space, and yet it is exceedingly spare. Based off a celebrated Ron Koertge poem that clocks in at only 150 words, it allows for moments of subtlety and contemplation that are so necessary in visual storytelling—those perfectly blocked shots, held for an extra moment, that drive home the rich emotional interiority of its characters. It’s simultaneously one of the most humanistic films of recent memory, but it also stars no humans. Its stop-motion animation is expressive, detailed and grounded, and yet it has no compunction about taking off on flights of fancy, segueing via delightful transitions into fantastical asides that play with scale and setting.
And, most remarkably, none of these elements are simply stylistic choices, excuses for technical bravado, or kludgy compromises to the process of adaptation. They are all deep reflections of the film’s core themes, representing and enriching them. Adapting work from another medium is rare for shorts, but rarer still, in any medium, is an adaptation that exceeds the original. Negative Space fills in the subtext of Koertge’s poem, but doesn’t bludgeon it, and the insights and personal experiences the film’s creators bring to the source material prove additive rather than incongruent, elevating the work." - S/W Curator, Jason Sondhi (via).
But that doesn’t help. What themes are reflected? Enriched?
I agree that the artistic nature of the film is spot-on and “nearly perfect.” But what about the message? What is he trying to say?
And what poem does it help fill in? . . . oh. I found it. It’s called, Negative Space (huh) and is the narration to the film:
My dad taught me to pack: lay out everything. Put back half. Roll things
that roll. Wrinkle-prone things on top of cotton things. Then pants, waist-
to-hem. Nooks and crannies for socks. Belts around the sides like snakes.
Plastic over that. Add shoes. Wear heavy stuff on the plane.
We started when I was little. I’d roll up socks. Then he’d pretend to put me
in the suitcase, and we’d laugh. Some guys bond with their dads shooting
hoops or talking about Chevrolets. We did it over luggage.
By the time I was twelve, if he was busy, I’d pack for him. Mom tried
but didn’t have the knack. He’d get somewhere, open his suitcase and text
me—”Perfect.” That one word from him meant a lot.
The funeral was terrible—him laid out in that big carton and me crying
and thinking, Look at all that wasted space.
So what is the wasted space? Was it time spent apart? Wasted opportunities? Is his dad nothing more than a packed item now and no longer human . . . because he never was? Because he was only just a figure or title?
Now we’re getting somewhere.
Is he crying at his father’s funeral because he’s acknowledging that he should be thinking about something else? That he should be mourning the loss of his father and not the wasted space? That he should have a coffin full of memories to think about and talk about, rather than a phone full of simple texts that read “perfect” but which meant so much to a lonely son back home?
Should they have meant so much to a lonely son back home?
Maybe. Probably.
What do you think?
Man I love stop-motion films.
For more on . . .
-N- Stuff : My Dead Dad’s Porno Tapes : My Grandfather, and the tools he left behind : Short Films
Tornadoes are some of the most destructive forces of nature.
They’re also, somehow, gorgeous. And truly awesome.
If you dig storms and tornadoes, check these out too.
For more on . . .
-N- Stuff : A Peace with the Storm : Storm Chasers in the Wild
