Cynthia A. Morgan's Blog, page 59

Translation: Journey to Elysium – An #Author’s #Perspective on #Acting

Some people love to read. They devour books in days, feasting upon them, one after the other like a box of chocolates left open in a room filled with hungry people. They are the speed readers, capable of interpreting 1000 words a minute; they turn pages like a camera snapping pictures, but do they truly enjoy the beauty of the written words? Do they share the emotions of the characters and grasp the subtle connotations being so generously offered by the writer or do they simple read, following the Get it, Got it, Good, Moving On mentality.

Believe it or not, I don’t read a lot of books. I tend to be a slow reader, painfully slow. I read to myself the same way I would read aloud to someone else, with inflection, with emotion, and often I re-read passages several times to be sure I understand what is being said or not said, shown or not shown, felt or not felt, it’s the writer in me. Therefore, I do not often read the book when there’s sure to be a movie coming soon, anyway. There are, of course, exceptions. I have read Tolkien’s glorious trilogy; I’ve perused many of the historical reenactments of Philippa Gregory, and I’ve savoured the challenges of Dickens, Austin, and Poe, but more often than not completing one book takes me, on average, a year. Particularly because I detest abridged versions; if I cannot sink my teeth into the sumptuous banquet the author has created, in its entirety, and relish each delicious morsel, then I’d really rather not, thank you.

Some of us take days and others take months to absorb what’s scribed upon the page; it’s a form of translation and at the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter how long the process takes. Perception of an idea, ideal, symbol, or suggestion: this is the desired outcome, the goal of all authors, but there are many forms of translation and many levels to reaching the ultimate objective.

A book can sit on a dusty shelf in a library, patiently waiting to be picked up. It can be deviated into a shadow of its former self by one company or another, reducing it into bridge notes. It might be fortunate enough to be adapted into a performance worthy of the stage or it may achieve the dubious distinction of being made into a movie.

Translating a masterpiece of words, phrasing, sub-text, symbolism and point(s) of view into film is a daunting undertaking that I cannot even begin to fathom and would never take on, not for any inducement; however, having said as much, there are those individuals who prefer this painstakingly complex ordeal over the actual reading of said work of genius and I give them credit. Granted, there are far fewer remarkably stunning adaptations than there are second-rate disappointments, but this is the danger inherent in translation. Often, simply too much of the scope and magic of the original is lost in the conversion, for whatever reason: low budgets, creative differences, mediocre photography, deficient acting.

A perfect example of the blunder of taking an extraordinary book and slapping it in front of a camera with seemingly little forethought is the 1990 film Lord of The Flies. I LOVE the book, to me, it is unquestionably a magnum opus and I’ve read it more times than I care to mention. The intoxicating descriptions and profusion of symbolism throughout are enthralling. They are also the essence of the book, but when it was adapted for (this particular) film, those composing the translation seemed to pay little heed to the book’s all important imagery.

Simple things, like the colour of the characters hair, were disregarded. In the book, the protagonist, Ralph, is blond…and for good reason: he is the representation all that is good, light, and right in society. The book’s antagonist, Jack, has red hair and is described as quite unattractive…again, for a purpose. He represents all that is dark, savage and unbridled in the world. Two significant representations, but in the movie they are reversed. In fact, nearly ever symbol of the book was inverted or ignored in the movie and the result was utterly, devastatingly disappointing.

But for all the travesties of injustice that exist, there are also tour de force demonstrations of the exquisite magic that is possible when masterful and insightful directing, collaborative production, skillful artistry, breathtaking cinematography, and incomparable acting unite. When the final translation of a single idea, conceived in the mind of the author, takes on physical, emotional, and spiritual manifestation through the eloquence of an actor who is fully committed to the embodiment of the charade, all else pales by comparison.

For a book, and, often, for me, this is the moment Valhalla opens, the instant when Elysium comes into view, this is the Attainment of Utopia and the Achievement of Enlightenment. When the supreme privilege of witnessing the brilliance of perfectly executed translation brings us to the Gates of Heaven and we watch the magnificent spectacle in awe and adoration.

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~Morgan~

The Nexus – #StarTrek & #Reality

For The Star Trek (Next Gen) Fans…The Nexus passed over my house tonight…

~Morgan~

Perfection – #Poetry of #Love & #Spirituality

The Sweetest Music to have ever Graced my ear,
Is a Jumble of Chaos, Clamor and Confusion,
Compared with
The Entrancing Sweetness of You.

The Loveliest Masterpiece to have ever made me Stare,
Is just a spot of Mud smeared upon Canvas,
Compared with
The Exquisite Masterpiece of You.

The Most Peaceful, Secluded Vale to have ever made me Sigh,
Is a Riotous Turmoil of Psychosis and Frenzy,
Compared to
The Consummate Peace of You.

The Finest Dream to have ever Entranced me in Reverie,
Is a Nightmare of Unspeakable Horrors,
Compared with
The Captivating Dream of You.

Perfection itself, in all its Splendor,
Is but Hideous, Blathering, Insanity,
Compared with
The Unrivaled Perfection of You.

~Morgan~

Light – #Poetry of #Spirituality

I Bear with me a Beautiful Light,
Forever Lit,
Forever Bright.
Shining onto my Darkened Way,
Leading me Onward,
Day by Day.

When the Winds begin to blow,
When I Stumble,
When I don’t know,
My Light grows Stronger in the Gloom
Protecting me
from Impending Doom.

When I meet Strangers along my Way
Who have stopped walking,
Unsure and Afraid,
I Lift my Light so we both can See,
And We walk Together
In its Luminosity.

~Morgan~

Thank You for Humouring Me :) – #BloggingMilestones, #Friendship & #Gratitude

****Originally posted on Jul 6, 2013.

Celebrating ONE MONTH of The Book and Volume of This Distracted Globe, or Book and Volume, or BnV, and it’s 145 current followers!
I want to say THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH to each of you for making the past 30 days ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE !!!!

**** A great deal has changed since I posted this, but one thing remains constant and true.  YOU!!!   Through my ups and downs, here and gones, serious moments and giddiness, YOU have been here, sharing the tides of life with me and, in return, I’ve shared some with you as well.   Nothing has changed in how grateful I am and, although I may be a bit less interactive then I was (which, I promise, I’m trying to return to), I still appreciate every one of you.

~Morgan~

The Time Capsule – #Memoirs of #Poetry

Love Blossoms
Touches
Reaches
And Transforms Forever
The Heart that Opens To Its Tenderness.

I wrote those words when I was a senior in high school, filled with hope, expectancy, and the clairvoyance of youth.

Back then, I used to carry a tablet around with me from class to class in which I would jot down snippets of songs, (duran duran and dépêche mode, mostly, with some Sammy Harris thrown in for good measure) scribble fragments of poems, or draw elaborate patterns out of the initials of some fleeting fancy. When one tablet filled up, I would start another, filling it to bursting with the musings and, often, the ‘confusings’ of my mind….and thus my blogging career began, long before I knew the word, long before there was such a word.

By the time I graduated I had filled four tablets, each containing 120 pages of memories, hopes, dreams, rhymes, reasons, treasons, and insignificant “doodles”. I saved them for a while where I could pull them out from time to time and reminisce, but after a year or so they ended up in a box in the cellar, locked away, secret, a time capsule treasure trove awaiting rediscovery.

Warp ahead several years (never mind how many!). As time and light bend around us, pulsing in the intergalactic void of the wormhole, we hear sounds from other times in my life, which we are passing along the way. Laughter, Crying, Shouting, Singing, Slurring (just occasionally!), Whispering; vestiges of the passage of time and the journey into knowledge and awareness that have ultimately brought me (and us) to this day.

When the spinning stops (no, I swear we didn’t have any vodka along the way…) you will find me in a small room filled with boxes, where I am overturning years upon years in search of words. (Un-poetically phrased, I am looking through a box of memorabilia and memoirs for a few things I’ve written that I want to share, but the latter sounds so much more enticing, doesn’t it?) Suddenly I stop and a broad smile curves my lips. I laugh, although no one is there except me (well, and you of course) and nothing funny has been said. I had forgotten, but here they are, all four tablets, still intact: 480 pages (give or take a few that the dog, cat or ferret may have eaten!) of a bygone moment in time.

Most of the next hour is spent turning pages, remembering, (or not) hearing old songs, smiling about lost loves, and raising a skeptical (or shocked) brow now and again. Ah the brashness and rashness of Youth! All the things I wanted to do, hoped I’d have, places I dreamed I would go, people I longed to meet; locked away in a prison of pages and ruled lines, trapped and disregarded. Then I stumble upon the poem (above) and I stop, amazed. NICE! I think to myself, I DON’T REMEMBER WRITING THAT. But OH how true it is.

Love Blossoms In the Heart, Mind, Body, Soul.
Love Reaches into you, finding that place you’ve forgotten or ignored for far too long.
Love Touches the place that is lonely, hurting, lost, sorry, sad, angry, guilty, fearful.
Love Transforms Forever in a gentle, unforced, patient manner; only when you are ready for it and only when the time is perfect for it to happen.
The Heart that Opens to Its Tenderness; opening like a time capsule filled with memories just waiting to be rediscovered.

~Morgan~
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Lovely image by : http://www.erasofelegance.com

Inevitable Conclusion – #LovePoems

When I look into Your Eyes;
OH the sighs,
That fill my heart and make me shiver,
Longing for the Magic
Only You deliver!

When I hear Your Voice, alluring:
OH the purring,
That tumbles my thoughts and makes me wonder,
If my own intonation will
Make You hunger?

When I see Your Sensual Style;
OH the smile,
That curves my lips and brings thoughts unbidden,
Reflections of what
Is Presently Hidden.

When Your Craft reveals Your Light;
OH the Sight,
That makes my Spirit surmount the confusion,
And Wait Upon You,
My Inevitable Conclusion.

~Morgan~

To Love You for Eternity – #LovePoetry

When the Light Falls
and Darkness Wheels in the Heavens,
It is then my Heart Pauses,
Released from Perpetual Racing,
to Pound in Time With Yours.

As a Myriad Reflections of Luminosity
Pierce the Ebon Spangle of the Night,
It is then my Mind Sighs Deep,
Untangling the Calamity of Thought,
To Rest quietly in Your Company.

If the Sun Ceased to Shine by Day,
And the Resplendent Moon by Night,
My Spirit would Seek You still,
Unraveling and Transcending Time
To Love You for Eternity.

~Morgan~
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Image found at: 7art-screensavers.com

The Burning Question – A #Perspective on #Communication & #BridgeBuilding

Several years ago, never mind how long precisely….. (to coin Melville’s phrase) I managed a retail music store. Lots of fun, lots of music, and lots of young people (and since I, too, was(am) a young people, this worked out nicely). It was hard work to be sure, but you know me, (at least I hope you do by now…even if only a little) I like to make things fun. So we got our work done as quickly as possible, thereby giving us the rest of the day to “enjoy” (ok, maybe I do mean goof off, but I’m being poetic). Nice strategy really, everyone was happy. Oh not that we ignored our clientele or neglected our responsibilities, but all work and no play…dontcha know.

One of my employees ( who shall, of course, remain nameless) had a particularly intriguing habit of coming into work each day with a specific question he had planned/decided on as the “Burning Question” of the day. He would pose this question and we would spend the remainder of the day discussing amongst ourselves our thoughts and opinions on the selected topic. It passed the time on SLOW days (which happen quite often in retail, actually), it made for lively banter, and, occasionally, it generated heated debates.

So you might ask, what was the Burning Question? It could be anything, quite honestly. Of course, working in the music industry a favourite topic was: Who was/is the best rock band of all time…and why? OR perhaps as a variation on the theme: What are the top 5 songs of all time..and why? Sometimes it was something simple, such as: Favourite Movie Ever…and why? OR Best Actor…and why? (one of my favs) Best Novel..and why?, Best Classical Composer…and why?

Noticing a theme yet? (outside of the obvious triviality of the topic, of course)…Yes, there was always a WHY? Sure, it’s a comparatively straightforward assignment to name your favourite “whatever it is”, but to then defend your choice(s) with a logically thought out rationale….not as simple.

Often, this young man would show up with less inconsequential fodder for us to chew on; questions such as: Do Ghosts really exist and if so…Why? (yep, there it is again) OR, Is there really such a thing as FATE, and if so….you betcha…Why? What is the true role of government…and….uh-huh…Why? Do aliens actually visit the Earth…and if they do…right-o, Why? And one of my personal favourites: If you won One Hundred Million Dollars, what would you do with it…and…..(seeing the pattern here?) WHY?

It wasn’t very long before I began to understand and appreciate the genius behind this young man’s daily queries. Oh sure, talking about some off-hand topic was interesting and made the hours fly and it’s always entertaining nattering about favourites, since everyone’s are different, but we were doing much more than that.

We were sharing hidden secrets, unveiling the demons, building bridges; that’s the beauty of a (Burning) Question, it makes us open the window to our soul, if only a little. Some people are reserved and they only open the window an inch at a time; others are exhibitionists and fling the shutters wide from the start, but ultimately, the fresh air comes in.

SO, I’ve decided to add this category/segment to my blog. Every Once in a while I will post one Burning Question along with my Smoldering Answer, and then ask you, (should you feel so inclined and I certainly hope you do) to post YOUR answer(s) in the COMMENTS section. There are no contests, no winners, no losers, no right or wrong answers, no free advice offered, no gimmick proffered; just for fun, really, and to open the window a little into our secrets, our demons, and maybe, if we’re lucky, to build a bridge or two.

Burning Question ONE: (something relatively painless, right out of the gate, to get the ball rolling…)

Of all the places you’ve actually been, which place is your favourite, the place you love to go back to again and again….and, of course….WHY?

For me, that place is Cape May, New Jersey. OH such a lovely, restful, charming, place; that draws you in like a melodic tune and captures your heart before it’s done playing. Private Seaside, Balmy Breezes, Beautiful Victorian Homes, Guest Houses, Inns, Bed & Breakfasts, Fine Dining, Casual Street-side Cafés, Quaint Shoppes, Artisan Galleries, Horse-Drawn Carriages, a Lighthouse, a Pebble Beach, a Winery, a Playhouse, Music, Wine and Art Festivals, Afternoon Teas, Leisurely Bike Rides, Long Quiet Walks, Sea Glass Hunting, and no loud, boisterous Boardwalk or commercial hotels, all delivered with quiet, delicious, Victorian Flair. And if that’s not reason enough, I’m not sure what is.

(www.capemay.com)

~Morgan~

Yin and Yang

Orangie and Miss Mittens (She is now in Heaven above) Sharing a Nap.

~Morgan~