hilitehead

The Cranes are Flying (1957) by Mikhail Kalatazov

nov 6

I was reading Chekhov’s “Three Sisters” the other day, and chanced upon what may be the meaning of the title of this film. In Act 2, Masha objects to the notion that we must live our lives without meaning or understanding:

“Masha: Surely mankind must believe in something, or at least seek for the truth, otherwise life is just emptiness, emptiness. To live and not to know why the cranes are flying, why children are born, why there are stars in the sky. Either you must know why it is you live, or everything is trivial – mere pointless nonsense.”

Likewise, Veronika has a hard time believing that the war, and her and others’ sufferings, have been pointless. Better to assign a meaning, to live as if one’s life is significant, and not to give in to despair. It is perhaps this thinking that prompts her to her final act in the film.

I ignite with a quick temper
ear phones attached
pigtails and a pink hat indoors
my magic hat which warms the tips of my ears
shields and fills
no open holes im safe in my small corner
from the burning stares of Richard and Juana
they whisper and judge observing an alien
these days I am often lulled to sleep in asmr tingles
a calming escape which throbs from the top of your head and travels down your spine
my days and nights have swapped
and so is my view of tideland
I wake up after three hour naps to the screen light of my mac
with word and songs on my tongue
lucid dreams continuously enthralled embroiled in a creative streak of black and white cords
pain produces beautiful meaningful things my dear sister
can’t always expect a quick forgiveness

remember this feeling
remember your exhaustion
remember the monotony
remember that you ‘only did it to cope’
remember that a constant stream of men were at your beck and call
don’t wail in desperation later

The White Ribbon (2009) by Michael Haneke

dear father
it gives me so much sadness to see your postcard sketches
my fingers tremble
my heart aches
partly because I feel sorry for you
mostly because I see your quiet vulnerability
desperation written out in clear directions
a faulty ego that allows for no questions marked in visa card numbers
with an ample time for a due date
they say the ones who are hardest to love are usually the ones who need it the most
and if that’s true, we are both the same
I want to break this barrier and console you. console me
hug you by your stomach like I did when I was a girl and cry on your chest
my father is an invisible man, in an invisible city, in an invisible room