22/09/2024
“GLOOMY”
Most people would like their days sunny and bright, but then there are the few of us who feel better in gloomy weather. When the skies are overcast, the sun seemingly struggling to overcome the obstacles of clouds and the effect to us is like watching the world through a filter of gray, that’s when I’m totally in my elements. The days from the past that I remember the most are those such days, I must have forgotten names and places, an awful lot of them but in my mind, I would always clearly remember every imagery from my long walks back home as a child, especially Fridays after Practical Arts classes, where we tend to our project vegetable gardens in school and then class would be dismissed at three o’clock.
Always, at that exact time, and for some reason, I would be walking home under a dark mid-afternoon haze, a kind of gloom lending a different mood to the surroundings, something almost surreal, lethargic and contemplative. Nobody would be home when I get there. Parents at work, two sisters still in school. Leftover food in the kitchen must be heaven-sent. And yes, I can recall to this day the exquisite taste of my cold bland late lunch of mostly rice and fried galunggong. Those were the times I would start reading, which only years later I came to suspect as preparing myself for destiny. Books, comics, newspapers, everything I fancy, except our reading assignments in school, which I totally detest.
The family’s black and white Admiral TV would play to my boundless amusement the nature documentaries of David Attenborough, “Life on Earth” in his calming, soothing, one-of-a-kind style of delivery of the narrative, I would even describe it as God-like, which may be why he’s still around, a centenarian now, but remaining faithful to his passion, bless him. He may not know it but his voice has earned him immortality as part of the soundtrack of my life and my generation.
I wish there is a way we can truly describe colors, the shades and the hues - that there are exact words to translate sensations, to convey what the eye sees and the heart feels. I believe it’s the only way to capture moments that leave a mark to our memory, like the beauty and imagery from my kite-flying adventures on the roof during gloomy summer afternoons of my childhood. And especially during yet another gloomy day I when was trying to catch a pigeon perched at the mast of a ship moored at the dockyard near our place.
I knew the bird was losing energy from days of starving, flying in circles without any sense of home or direction. On the other hand, I was losing time as dusk was slowly setting in. And so with all the courage a child my age could muster, I decided to climb the ship’s mast, to grab the pigeon as soon as I get near. I could hear my heart pounding from the inexplicable fear while ascending that height, the air blowing into my face seemed to bring a salty taste to it. The ocean loomed in the distance. The sky was splattered with crimson-colored clouds, like a reconstructed murder scene. Suddenly, I lost my grip and went on a free-fall but miraculously survived by grabbing a nylon cord attached to the mast. It should be one of the most memorable moments of my childhood, which took place in yet another gloomy day.
I wish life is a Tim Burton movie.
The first time I saw one of his films, I was blown away. It was like experiencing teleportation, that sensation of stepping into a dream, or finding oneself accidentally in another entirely different dimension, an out of the body experience. I must be exaggerating a little bit but his cinematography strikes a cord somewhere in my subconscious in such a way that I instantly connect to his work to a level of supernatural proportions. The darkness and frightening elements that pervade in his every film are totally spell-binding.
Movies are works of art, not an intellectual exercise, so I approach them without any self-expectation of understanding the plot or the message. I am always after the experience. That said, I can’t tell the synopsis of any of the handful of Tim Burton movies I’ve actually seen. Some people say he is actually a terrible filmmaker who associates himself with equally terrible actors like Johnny Depp.
But I couldn’t care less if his movie has any semblance of plot or message to it, or if it makes sense at all. It’s more than enough that I am terrified to the core watching those sweeping camera shots of the ethereal gloom he creates over dusty roads and distant mountains moments before the headless horseman would appear to chop victims into pieces in Sleepy Hollows, and how my heart bleeds for the unimaginable loneliness that the evil genius of Tim Burton brought upon his main character Edward Scissorhands. His movies make me appreciate the dark side of life. I wish I could just step into a Tim Burton Movie, stay there and live happily every after.
“GLOOMY”
Sept. 22, 2024
At home, 9:00 am
The computer room
