Luchino Visconti,The Marx Brothers, Jean-Luc Goddard, Juzo Itami, Fredrico Fellini, Wong Kar Wai, Terry Gilliam, The Cohen Brothers,Caro et Jeunet, The Wachowski Brothers, Michaelangelo Antonioni, Pedro Almodovar, Akira Kurosawa, Jim Jarmusch, and who was that Guy? He made the films: Eel, and Warm water under a Red Bridge, if you know his name definitely let me know. Otherwise I’ll go with Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry.
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What keeps you honest. What keeps you awake at night. Is it passion, is it work or is it money. Something tells me it is something more. Because I've drawn the card of fate, and it's kept me going. Like a train winding it's way down the coast. I'll tell you a story that keeps me alive. My granfather was a railroad conductor. He did the run from Grand Central Station to Princeton New Jersey. One night. As he made his way down the corridor lined with passengers, he recognized a singular unique figure. In a rumpled shirt and sweater, hair exploding from his head. It was Albert Einstien, on his way home from New York City to Princeton. He wondered what he could ask this giant. He wanted nothing more than to speak to him. To make some connection with this monster of mathematics. He couldn't discuss physics, or higher math. My grandfather was a simple man. But there was onething he did know. He was redoing his basement. He was putting up some wood paneling. That's the detail of this story that keeps me awake. There is perhaps nothing more uniquely American than wood paneling, you see it at Graceland, you see it at your local steakhouse, but my grandpa he was puting some up in his basement. He was installing a washer dryer, and he was painting the room to give it a little more charm. this is where Einstein stepped in. this god of math told my grandfather, and I quote, in as rough a fashion as I can remember. "I always wanted to piant a room, but I never found the time." So it is, that now when I have the oportunity or misfortune. I pick up a paint brush, or a welding torch, or a drill. I think of this master of the physical, and what he could teach me. And I think of my grandfather...Benjamin Ira Heisler, and what he did with his life.
Every time that we listen or write music... play an instrument... dance... act in a play... or work in some audio/image/video engineering process... Something is healing inside...
When we share it with friends... Something is healing all over...
thanks for the comment about my "bardo" painting it is much appreciated! ... read my blog (repost: the dying process and then some) it reveals a bit more of how that painting came to be.