On Monday early morning (leftover Sunday latenight) I watched the second half of "Dead Man" the 1996 film starring Johnny Depp. Depp plays William Blake, a quiet, unassuming man who worked in the office of a mining company or a railroad (I forget since I saw the full film five-plus years ago), but was forced to flee through the woods after he was framed for a murder. Blake meets an Indian who once lived in England and fell in love with the writings of the poet William Blake. The two become friends. (Not sure but I think the Indian believed Depp's character was the poet come back to life.)
"Dead Man" plays out like a dream. The film is in black and white, with sparse dialog; scenes appear almost as short vignettes that fade out quickly to a couple seconds of black and then the next scene fades in. All of what I saw took place in wilderness as Depp's Blake tries to stay ahead of the guys who are tracking him.
Watching the second half for the second time, I was surprised how mysteriously mystical it felt, like songs by Bob Dylan from "John Wesley Harding" and "The Basement Tapes." It reminded me of the "Billy the Kid" scenes in "I'm Not There," the film that interpreted six aspects of Dylan as suggested mainly by his songs. That part of "I'm Not There" took place in a small rural town where presumably Billy the Kid moved to live out his life because he apparently was not gunned down by Pat Garrett after all. Many of the townfolk and their lives were modeled on characters in Dylan songs. Like Depp's Blake, Billy was framed for a crime and had to flee.
I wasn't fully "into" "Dead Man" the first time I watched it, but I was taken by it this time. I picked up on the mysticism this time.
For nine or so months now I've contemplated the theme of "bigger" in my spiritual living. Moving beyond the experiences of church on Sunday, even though the "religion" I was in gave me total freedom to explore "God" however I sensed that It (God) spoke to me and inspired me. To me the Infinite is everywhere and the "voice of God" speaks through everyone and everything — whether a puplit preacher at 11:31 a.m. on Sunday or a Johnny Depp movie about an outlaw at 1:34 a.m. on Monday. Contemplate the vastness of the starry night sky far away from city lights and the complexity of teensy dormant leaf buds biding their time to blossom in spring undeterred by the choking car exhausts of Metropolis.
Now, at 4:37 a.m. on Tuesday, I am overdue for bedtime. The Muse of writing and expression through words has moved me and I am finished. Now to the Muse of Dreams and symbolic contemplation. Good night, Irene, goodnight. And goodnight everyone else too.
Love, Peace and Joy to all,