Think about the wide cast of characters who go into making a movie.
“There’s an energy crisis happening, all right: a human one.”
A man lies on his living room floor. His eyes are closed, arms by his side. His face is still, even, but occasionally furrowed.
Decades ago, I was visiting a friend in Maine on this incredible island called Isle Au Haut with almost no people, no electricity, no running water.
What seems conspicuous is that both explore, to a greater or lesser degree, the conditions of becoming within the confines of culturally defined gender roles.
I see her decision to go out with friends, to lunch with a male work acquaintance, to knit, to sleep with her back to me as meaningful, as a statement about me.
Irony posits two realms: the eternal, or divine, and the temporal, mortal, physical. We live in this world with its laws and constraints, its culture and bodies.
Isn’t thinking an action?
Me, I will admit without hesitation: I don’t like to travel.
Since I was a little boy — like most kids, I think — I’d been interested in infinity.