I have often tried to recall if there was a first scene in a movie that has stayed with me. Nothing comes to mind offhand, and there I used to think I had a great memory.
But, yesterday I think I filled in the blank with the first scene of a movie (that I haven’t watched fully yet, because it just stalled all thought right after act 1). There is a girl’s voice over in it trying to describe the memory of someone precious. The background in the scene is that of a cold, frozen landscape, chilling just to look at and a girl racing over frozen ground, bare feet, in a flight for life.
The girl whose voice we hear is wishing a meadow alive where winter never sets foot.
In her dream, I can see her tree and feel its shade. I almost wait for it to change colors in my reverie. This is the place in us that guards all memories that make us. Where she holds every memory of someone dear.
But it is the last line of this act that holds me, ‘And when I find myself in the mud of the real-far from your loving eyes, I will return to this place and close mine, and take solace in the simple perfection of knowing you.’
While I do go on about how not much is simple, the solace in the perfection of just knowing someone: that is simple. I don’t actually think that everything is complicated, I only think even achieving simplicity needs a complex path to have been traversed first and there are very few people who go through this distillation and form their soul’s pool again, drop by drop. Anyone who thinks they are simple at birth (or more likely, from) is delusional.
Therefore, it is natural that anyone who has met with true: disappointment, betrayal, accomplishments and losses sees the simple perfection of knowing some one and to find solace in that. Writer of such a beautifully simple line: take a bow.
The movie is Wind River.
And this is a short grook I wrote for the other “simple” people in my life who categorize my hard-earned simplicity as contrived complexity.
I thought I would like the simple
The straight and the wholesome
Then I met your wife and you
I’d rather chew some gum – ID