Falling in Love with Love
Falling in love is awesome, yeah? I like it best when it happens fast. In one moment you're going about your business as usual, and then wham, something shoots right to the center of who you are and gives you that "I just met you but we already know each other, don't we" feeling. The full-body wiggle-shiver. The permasmile. The thump of a heart on parade. You know you will never be the same.
There's falling in love with a person, and then there's falling in love with a book or a song or a movie, and although at first the two categories seem dissimilar--you can't marry a movie, can you?, and good thing because I'd be a serial polygamist for sure--in many ways the experience is the same. You read a first page and have the feeling you've been here before. You watch an opening sequence and everything inside you simulatenously relaxes and becomes more alert, like a newborn finally seeing his mother's voice. You hear the first three notes of a chorus and you know it will echo in your head for hours, days, years. You can't get enough of this new love, and if it's built to last, you do what you can to make sure it sticks around in full force, and regenerates. With people, this is why we have marriages, mortgages, generations that beget generations that beget generations. With media it's the same; it's why God created deluxe two-disc editions and directors' cuts and annotated hardcovers (and also why Satan created novelizations and fan fiction). Love makes us want to sink in deep and know every corner of this new world while at the same time still feel that there will always be more to discover, always new corners to round, new vistas to behold. Jane Austen only wrote six complete novels, but I am trying to make them last until I die because the thought of there being simply no more is too much. F. Scott Fitzgerald only wrote four and a half novels, but thank goodness Gatsby gets better each time.
Simon and I watched Julie Taymor's Across the Universe on Saturday, and we have already bought the deluxe two-disc DVD and the deluxe two-disc soundtrack and watched all the special features and memorized our favorite scenes and even (I can't believe I'm admitting this) recreated our own versions in the living room, me at the piano and Simon behind me on the guitar belting harmonies into my ear. (I'm not sure if a sing-along falls into the Fogey category or the Ageless Dorkitude one, but it definitely says something about our twisted home life.) I loved everything about the film at first sight and sound, and although I can't promise everyone else will love it too, you should at least give it a try because it's visionary. (It's not visionary in the forward-looking way the word is often used these days, but visionary in a retrospective way. It looks back at what's happened and interprets it in a way that's relevant and revelatory today. To paraphrase the choreographer said on the special feature DVD, it's eating the past and digesting it through a contemporary body.)
But this isn't a movie review or a recommendation. It's a reflection of how awesome love is, what a rush it is to have a new favorite film/song/person/whatever, and how those feelings can be multiplied and magnified when you're sharing it with someone else. Was anyone else out there obsessed with Newsies circa age fourteen to, um, the present? You and me, we have SO MUCH to talk about. There's social theory behind why teenagers pick their friends based on what bands they listen to...
I fall in love with things all the time (random cats on the street), and Simon does too (guitars for sale online), but we don't often share each other's level of enthusiasm, sometimes only managing to smile politely and graciously turn our head the other way before the eyes start to roll. Occasionally, though, we get the same things in the same way and at the same time, and when that happens it's magic. Loving something with the person you love renews the love you feel for each other. Perhaps this is why God invented babies?
Speaking of babies and love, this year I might have to share my role as Simon's valentine. On the 14th we're going down to SoCal to visit his mom and hang out with his sister and niece, who are in town from England (we'll miss you bro-in-law Kilo!), and it promises to be a weekend full of love and loveliness because look at this:
It's an old picture, from Thanksgiving, back when she was practically a zygote, but now she's six months old and capable of doing much more than merely reclining in her softies, exuding exquisite babyhood, and once in a while amusing onlookers by exhibiting the facility with which she can put her binkie in her own mouth, voila! This time I have high hopes for a cello recital and thirty-two fouettes en pointe, but I'll settle for some sitting up and hand clapping. You can get away with a lot less when you're so stinkin' cute and everybody loves to love you.Previous Next