Archive: The Pilgrimage film

The Pilgrimage film

I got my Pilgrimage film today, having finally made its way out of the whirlpool that sucked in so much mail last December.

Thank you, Matt!

But this is not a review. It is an unexpected reaction.

It was unsettling. So many odd feelings arose, like it was part dream, but part brutal sadness.

Much like birth, I suppose.

New life is at once exciting and terrifying, electric and painful. I was just born then, a chaotic open space.

Look at me there. I have no idea who I am! I am barely even there.

I’m looking to Tilda, to anyone, everyone to tell me who I am, that I am.

But in the process of looking, I realize that I am looking. A crude self-awareness in the void.

That was the point of going, after all.

Oh but what must have you all thought?!

It must have been so obvious that I was only half-formed. It couldn’t be helped. There was no other way to start the process. The visual part of the film was the first step. To become a singularity.

But then the sound.

It was recorded at the reunion.

The days that surrounded that event changed me, painfully so, for the better. I was forcibly cut away from the fantasy I was holding on to. I was hiding in memories that were already compromised at best. I had to learn that there is no Santa. I had to exist without majick or delusion. The bone broken again to be reset.

Oh you have no idea, those last days of June.

I wonder what I would be if I had a second chance, if the festival rose again.

I am far more autonomous now. Life’s lessons have seen to it. Maybe I’d look like the rest of you. How would it be to do it again without the cumbersome task of learning to walk and breath from scratch? Perhaps I’d find I’ve not progressed as far as I feel I have.

I’m not afraid, though.

The difficult path becomes more and more preferred as my familiarity with it grows.

Also I like the shot with the flies in the dark by the lamp. I could watch that all day.


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