The Snow Man

Here is a poem that often comes back to me, and did again thismorning:

The Snow Man
by Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

The Audible Picture Show

This evening, P, Lib, Maile, and I went to the Alamo Drafthouse to “see” the Audible Picture Show. A young Glasgow guy, named Matt Hulse, collects audio pieces under 5 minutes to be shown in “a dark theatre,” and takes them to dark theatres around the world. It was a great experience for a number of reasons. Many of the pieces were very well done and entertaining. The act of listening to an audio piece seems to be both more relaxing and suggestive than watching a film. My favorites were the found audio pieces like the tape which is a random collage, mostly of an older British couple trying to get the tape recorder to record, not knowing it is on. I loved the story about the blind dog that still loved to catch the frisbee and who jumps for, and gets, the microphone, when the interview cuts in to the frisbee throwing. Matt had a nice, sparse remix of Judy Garland singing a few different lines, out of order, from the Wizard of Oz. Check out the Audible Picture Show website for clips of all of the pieces in the collection. I’m going to the thriftshop to hunt for cassette tapes.