Anything That's Part Of You
~~~ May 2020
~~~ Playlist by Seattle-based photographer and macrame artist Melissa Kagerer
~~~ Dreams by Colleen, IMDB research by Mave
~~~
໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७ ~♪
~~~
ANGELS
They have little use. They are best as objects of torment.
No government cares what you do with them.
Like birds, and yet so human . . .
They mate by briefly looking at the other.
Their eggs are like white jellybeans.
Sometimes they have been said to inspire a man to do more with his life than he might have.
But what is there for a man to do with his life?
. . . They burn beautifully with a blue flame.
When they cry out it is like the screech of a tiny hinge; the cry of a bat. No one hears it . . .
~~~ Russell Edson, 2001
Dream One
The land in between the pools is thick, naturally-fallen rope. The water in the pools is black on the lower left hand side, wavy in the middle, and cool silver all the rest of the way. What they make between them, as an image, are the pools themselves. You can focus on just one or you can try to see them all, like a field of graphic eyes shuttering. I am standing on one of the ropes, looking off into the distance. Tiny on one end of the horizon is a moon shining loudly. I feel cold, which is the worst kind of inspiration. A man in a red turtleneck circles in from the left. With a wink he says: it will be a surprise.
Text taken directly from from Imdb trivia page for City of Angels:
https://m.imdb.com/title/tt0120632/trivia
When they show shots of any of the angels, they rarely blink. Nicolas Cage actually practiced not blinking and was able to do it for several minutes by the time the film was done. However, once he became human he was able to blink all he wanted.
The film shares many parallels and similarities to Hans Christian Andersen's 1837 short story, "The Little Mermaid." Both stories are about mystical beings who dream of becoming human after meeting and falling in love with one on earth. After repeated warnings from those around them, both protagonists find a way to become human and be with the one they love only to lose them shortly after.
Dream Two
I always keep that one window open. It is a milky-feeling Spring dusk. Coyotes yawp in circles to round up small neighborhood creatures. I want to write to someone but all my pencils break when I begin. There is a small pile of them on my bedside table. In the distance, centered in my view from the window, hover a sweet mallard duck with a shining deep green head and a slightly rotund white and orange French goose. They begin to approach the window in perfect unison. Their motion has the graceful, confident air of a ritual or ceremony. A short cosmic parade. Mid-way they down-shift into slow motion, reverse backward again, then forward, again back, and once more forward, restored in normal time. They draw ~ erase ~ redraw a rainbow in the air. I watch peaceful and curious from my bed. When they land in my room they settle side-by-side just under the sill like a pair of shoes. Each intends to make a nest of my blankets and I will let them. We never speak to each other but we help by making space just the same. I wonder if one of them can deliver my message. They’re birds with big hearts. After some time, I name the French goose Meiser Goodspice.
During the opening sequence, you see 3 angels on top of a building as the camera pans up and around and you see the building's number, 444. 444 is a direct reference to the angelic realm: "Thousands of angels surround you at this moment, loving and supporting you. You have a very strong and clear connection with the angelic realm, and are an Earth angel yourself. You have nothing to fear - all is well."
This dialogue between Seth (Nicolas Cage) and Maggie - "Let's go." "Where?" "I don't care." "What will we do?" "Anything." - is virtually identical to an exchange between Cage and Deborah Foreman in Valley Girl (1983).
Dream Three
We meet each other again wandering on a sticky night in Miami. It is a case of random chance. No time or pain has passed between us although the truth is that it has. More and more structures loom. We slink in and out of them. Something hut-like and ominous, something neon, a smoke-filled bubble. Rounded white house corners with soft shadows that move like a hint for a person. An art deco tower like an angular woman. We go to the lobby because soon we realize I live here. The wait for the elevator is extremely long and we are crowded. It feels like a theme park in the summertime. I take the many stairs alone. My apartment reveals itself ~ a movie scene from the 80s ~ sunken carpeted living room, a balcony, soft lighting. I start to clean up. My things are just everywhere. I call out. Hello? Are you coming? You want to be where I am but you don't know how. You call out. You're too high up. I get undressed so that I can answer the door naked. I call out again before it's over. Why don't you just take the stairs? I can't tell if you or me is the one waiting. I sprawl out on the carpet and see above the structures to twinkling stars. They look like animated ice.
The concept of angels moving among the living, hearing their conversations, experiencing beauty that humans rarely stop to enjoy or even notice, yet not feeling any emotion or passing any judgment, was first discussed in the writings of Rainer Maria Rilke, specifically, his collection "The Duino Elegies".