Some mornings, I come to wisps of dreams extending themselves into my waking consciousness. I try to sneak up on them but they seem to have for their feet Light itself. They’re gone in the next blink of my eyes.
One morning though something stayed (or, got left) behind. Words.
Eyes so full of love for me they scare me away.
I stayed in bed a quarter of an hour more repeating the string to myself. Eyes so full of love for me they scare me away. How would full of love send someone running away?
One way to make head or tail of a contradiction is to develop a story around it and see where that takes you. In fact the words are quite the prompt for a bittersweet drama or, depending on how they play up to your imagination, a tragedy if not suspense. Or a bit of everything. The crazier the better. Well, in the literary world that is.
I’m reminded of the scene in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, lovely movie by the way, in which the protagonist, Gil Pender, a discontented screenwriter, is shuttled back in time where he meets the great artists including young Ernest Hemmingway. In the interview with Ernest, Gil nervously tells him a bit about his novel but suddenly becomes self conscious of how his story compares to the great writer’s, but Ernest is assuring and basic in his reply.
Gil: it’s about a man who owns a nostalgia shop…but that sounds terrible.
Ernest: No subject is terrible if the story is true, if the prose is clean and honest, and if it affirms courage and grace under pressure.
Right there is how a story or, more exactly, prose in a movie script provides clarification to a viewer’s, or in the movie, Gil’s problem. The answer becomes even more convincing if it’s Hemmingway (or, any other renowned personality) telling it. The result of mutual interaction, really, between story and viewer (or, reader for that matter).
So. Eyes so full of love for me they scare me away. Time to brush up on my storytelling.