Nature’s Dance: The Spirituality of Place
I had the luxury of sitting outside, simply listening for an entire afternoon – a luxury of time and space that does not exist in our everyday being, especially in New York. I observed a tree dance with the wind and experienced one of the moments that the purest poetry could not convey. The tree breathed, relaxing into a sway of courtship with the breeze. The breeze in turn gently caressed the branches, tenderly leading the pair in a dance. The two conversed through movement, an intimate dialogue, which lasted most of the afternoon. The breeze at last tenderly took its leave, journeying to its next partner but with a soft “we’ll meet again.”
This imagery needed to be told in film. This dance was a film in and of itself, a spiritual encounter of time and place.
Summers driving with my family down to North Carolina or New Orleans, my mother would breathe more deeply the further south we went. She commented on the welcoming familiarity of the trees and flowers, the natural world of her childhood in Louisiana. This nature spoke to her, picked up dialogue where they had last left off. An embracing return to a place. To home.
Caitlin and I met each day last week – writing outdoors by the Hudson River or in Central Park. We read the script aloud to one another at the pace of our surroundings, the rhythm of the water’s current or the natural & human pulse of Central Park entering our story as we worked.
As our brilliant DP Eve Cohen quotes Bresson, “I believe that through the act of living, the discovery of oneself is made concurrently with discovery of the world around us.” Wednesday we head to Camden to further our discovery, continuing to listen to this place. This dialogue between Camden and us is as vocal as the script we have written. In fact, it very much is the script we have written. That specificity of place that makes our personal story a universal one. Camden, Maine is our dancing partner, whose very essence shapes our film.