Ambiguity
This morning, my usual routine has been disrupted by four men tearing apart our upstairs bathroom. Gizmo, particularly, is unhappy with the circumstances. He comes to sit underneath my legs, as if I am some shield.
My semester begins in two weeks, and in the next few days, I will ease into syllabus building.
While I try to market my novel, I watch the presidential candidates try to market themselves. This marketing-show both intrigues and bores me. It continually reminds me how separate I am from mainstream thought; even so, it can consume me with its needs, its demands, its messages.
Yesterday, I listened to an interview with Francis Ford Coppola. He has made a new film, based on a novella by Mircea Eliade. The film, Youth without Youth, is strikingly different from his Godfather/Apocalypse Now days. When questioned about why Youth Without Youth is not as accessible as his earlier films, he had this to say:
Well, I wonder. I mean, I knew it was sort of a risky movie for me to embark on, but I wonder if it’s such a tough movie or if movies themselves have been so continually dumbed-down…this new film…operates on lots of levels. It is not afraid of ambiguity, it is not afraid of interesting ideas.
Hmmm. “Ambiguity and interesting ideas.” On my bulletin board, I have tacked a birthday card from Diane. The card carries a long quote from Gilda Radner. In a nutshell, it says, “Life is …delicious ambiguity.”
I do find ambiguity delicious.
An acquired taste, perhaps?
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