Into Every Life...

As it is getting to be winter, we're getting into our rainy days. And we're getting into those intolerable days where born and bred Seattleites start bitching about the weather. I've said them before, I'll say them apparently as long as I have to endure the prattle: 1) It's Seattle, it rains here. Don't like it? Move. 2) It's winter, the weather's supposed to be crappy. Suck it up.

And yes, we've been inundated with biblical deluges up here; people are building SUV arcs, gathering spoiled lap dogs and trophy pets in twos. Whole towns have been washed away, which would theoretically be horrible if we hadn't lost a whole crop white trash, current regime supporters.

Hyperbole aside, we have apparently broken records for rainfall - again. Didn't this just happen not so long ago? Yes, we've broken records that have been kept for a total of fifty-some years. None of this changes the above bullet points people, shut the whining.

Last night, in a less harsh and judgmental mood, I stood at the window in the living room and watched shifting patterns the rain was making in the halo of the street lamp on the saturated street. It was a calming, sort of Zen moment.

I remembered, being a child, curled up in the silent living room, bathed in Christmas tree lights and listening to the rain hit the roof.
I remembered a little film called Regen that we watched in an avant-garde film class, one that I fell in love with.

Regen is a Dutch short that was made in 1929 and is essentially made up of varying shots of rain throughout Amsterdam; rain on windows, rain on streets, rain dripping off of cars. It's all a languorous song with a melancholy and hazy feel to it. This memory in turn made me lament the sort of child like wonder of filming that around you that fascinates, the ballsiness of creating beauty from something as simple as the rain and how this is missing from most popular film makers.

Anyway, if you're in drier climes, check out Regen if possible. It's available on some experimental shorts collections out there, possibly at the library even, and it's about 10 minutes out of your day. If you're here in Seattle, settle down, relax, enjoy the show out your window for a little while.

Everyone enjoy your Thanksgiving.


No!vember song of the day: Ain't No Good by Cake.