Apr 16, 2003
How to Draw a Bunny
I can never quite tear myself from something that moves me. I can never have it all to myself. That old adage about a tree falling in the forest? Well, if a tree falls nearby and I am the only one to hear it, it might as well not have bothered falling in the first place. I, alone, don't count. At least not for me.
Tonight at LACMA, I saw How to Draw a Bunny, the documentary about Ray Johnson, whose work and quirkiness I have long admired but whose legacy I now worship and envy. And I can't help but feel this fantastic sense of regret and frustration that I wasn't able to take everyone I know to see the film with me. Which proves to me that I am nothing like Ray Johnson, who did everything for the sake of an impetus as mysterious and enigmatic as he was. I grind my teeth at how pitifully obvious I am. I clearly need to feel my experiences resounding off the fleshy walls of other people in order to have them to their fullest. Everything is intensified for me by the simple act of sharing. Never moreso than when I am given that semi-secret gift of knowledge and access that emerges when many interesting people sit for a while and talk about one person they all found interesting. It was funny and inspiring and sad and whimsical. It made me want to make something. It made me want to be something. If it had asked me for money, it would have gotten it.
Maybe it's just that I want the people I know and like to have some intersection with my reference base. I want them to know what I know. Or at least know what I mean. And the more I have to convey it to them in anecdotal form, the more I fear that they think of me as "chatty."
Before the screening, the person in charge of the thing informed us that the film had originally only been planned to show in L.A. once at the Getty (which has already occurred) and once at LACMA (which has now also already occurred). But apparently, its favorable reception has caused it to be picked up for distribution, which leads me to believe that others can see it, too, and soon. These others I speak of should.
posted by Mary Forrest at 12:00 AM | Back to Monoblog