http://ex_kittu9.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ex-kittu9.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2005-11-02 09:58 pm
ex-kittu9.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-11-02 09:58 pm
[November 02] [Off the Map] The Curve of the Soul of the World
Title: The curve of the soul of the world
Theme 2: Life imitating art imitating life
Series: Off the Map [movie]
Character: Bo, William Gibbs
Rating: General
Bo has always been a sort of pragmatic dreamer—she makes fantastic wishes and then sets herself methodically to the task of bringing them to fruition. Still, even she is at a loss about what to do with William Gibbs. Luckily, Bo is rarely flummoxed for long; even if William is marginally useless, she decides, and even if he doesn’t care about being a high-ranking executive, he’s still from a world she’s never seen, one that shares the horizon with both sea and sky. —Here in New Mexico the horizon consists of barren rock, mountains, red dust, not the sky but the all-consuming sun. She loves this land of enchantment, is comfortable in its raw wilderness, but like most young girls she graves newness.
(It has been a very long year and she is tired of her father’s sadness. She expresses this in a manner impatient, loving and imperious, as is her nature. She’s trying hard to think of something to shake him out of his despair.)
So William paints her The Picture. He uses a great deal of blue watercolour, which Bo expects, and pinks and yellows and a myriad combination of other colours that she doesn’t. For a man so driven through life by his own sadness—for William is candid about his depression, partially because his nature is guileless and partly because he is in love with Bo’s mother and wants to help—he is something energetic, translated into a creature of purpose. He’s paining his old home, washing the memories onto the rolls of paper even as he begins to blend more deeply into New Mexico’s soil.
When the Painting is at last finished and hung, Bo stares at it for a long time, all forty-odd feet of it encircling the walls of her loft. She has never seen so much water before, or such a symbiotic horizon, so many shades of blue and not-blue. She is pleased, very much so, to at last have proof that somewhere in the world, salt water does not necessarily manifest tears.
Theme 2: Life imitating art imitating life
Series: Off the Map [movie]
Character: Bo, William Gibbs
Rating: General
Bo has always been a sort of pragmatic dreamer—she makes fantastic wishes and then sets herself methodically to the task of bringing them to fruition. Still, even she is at a loss about what to do with William Gibbs. Luckily, Bo is rarely flummoxed for long; even if William is marginally useless, she decides, and even if he doesn’t care about being a high-ranking executive, he’s still from a world she’s never seen, one that shares the horizon with both sea and sky. —Here in New Mexico the horizon consists of barren rock, mountains, red dust, not the sky but the all-consuming sun. She loves this land of enchantment, is comfortable in its raw wilderness, but like most young girls she graves newness.
(It has been a very long year and she is tired of her father’s sadness. She expresses this in a manner impatient, loving and imperious, as is her nature. She’s trying hard to think of something to shake him out of his despair.)
So William paints her The Picture. He uses a great deal of blue watercolour, which Bo expects, and pinks and yellows and a myriad combination of other colours that she doesn’t. For a man so driven through life by his own sadness—for William is candid about his depression, partially because his nature is guileless and partly because he is in love with Bo’s mother and wants to help—he is something energetic, translated into a creature of purpose. He’s paining his old home, washing the memories onto the rolls of paper even as he begins to blend more deeply into New Mexico’s soil.
When the Painting is at last finished and hung, Bo stares at it for a long time, all forty-odd feet of it encircling the walls of her loft. She has never seen so much water before, or such a symbiotic horizon, so many shades of blue and not-blue. She is pleased, very much so, to at last have proof that somewhere in the world, salt water does not necessarily manifest tears.