fair play to the lad from Cork. a quieter, more precise effort than past records, less fun and rollicking, more wise and inquisitive. one to watch.
I just learned the film term 'bokeh' for the out-of-focus lights, for which I am a major sucker. I think it comes from growing up increasingly near-sighted (to the point now where I can't get certain corrective procedures because they're already too fucked) and it definitely sucks, but the one silver lining is that there is a tremendous amount of beauty in taking off the glasses and seeing the lights grow and pulse, the details of everything else reduced to a plainness contrasted with the extra space the light occupies. It is like my failing eyes have made everything an Impressionist painting. Sure, they're fuzzy, but they become warmed and softened, and it is incredibly comforting. It is kind of like looking at a person from enough distance that their flaws are insignificant and you see the just the lonely soul that is in them. Things like city streets at nights, skyscrapers and neon, become mysterious and lovely. And a Christmas tree is the most beautiful thing in the world. To my weakening eyes, it looks like a messenger or a portal to another world. Forgiveness and possibility the thinnest vapor apart.
No comments:
Post a Comment