The artist’s job is not to succumb to despair, but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.
– the character of Gertrude Stein, Midnight in Paris
in the film Midnight in Paris, which, if you have not seen it go watch it NOW, it’s a great movie, visually pleasing to look at, smartly written, and well acted. anyway, during the scene in a Parisian bar in the 1920’s, the main character presents his problem of being in love with a woman from their era and another from his own. their advice he desperately seeks for his situation turns out to be their own artistic visions, and no problem is seen at all (at least to Man Ray).
my point here is i feel like this time traveling man that is torn between time periods and the only place he seeks help is from the very people within the other-worldly scenario of fantasy and time travel that give him no “real” solutions and are part of his “problem” to begin with.
perhaps the very act of venting out his situation helps him to see clearer, feel some kind of relief, but in my own case, anyone i talk to, can only supply me with their point of view, and they are not even interesting surrealists. everyone is stuck in their own perspective. as some generic self-help quote would say: what you project/your own view of others is how you perceive yourself, or some shit like that.
i need a new point of view. i’ve watched too many woody allen films in my youth, have seen too many therapists/counselors and have addressed any and all problems from a psychological perspective. i’m not trying to go from one dogma to the next, but oh how i wish there was a new way to look at things, to release ideas, pain, hurts, fears, and everything and all without the boundaries of what has been placed by a majority of idiots.