Boyhood did not win much of anything yesterday. Although I feel Boyhood got snubbed, I did enjoy the other films. Honestly, I really did. I was overwhelmingly impressed by the films nominated for best picture this year. Seriously. The quality of movies we got to watch and enjoy was insane. These were beautiful films with superb acting, dynamic cinematography, and some genius direction. It was literally poetry on screen. For that I am grateful.
There’s this neighborhood in San Fran where history and progression collide. It’s like that part at the end of the Great Gatsby, where Nick talks about the green light of the future simultaneously existing with the waves dragging the boats back into the past. It’s history, but also innovation. This section of town is called Haight Ashbury, named after two streets that intersect in the center of the neighborhood. In the Haight, you’ll find culture and life, love and acceptance. Jimmy Hendrix lived here. So did Janis Joplin and Jefferson Airplane. Because, you know, they built that city on Rock and Roll.
It was G.K. Chesterton who changed my thinking about time and age. I used to think as the years added up and your life ebbed farther away from adolescence it meant you were slowly dying, even though no one wanted to admit it. I viewed life like that creepy hour glass on the Days of Our Lives—it just keeps dropping sand until your out. Chesterton, however, wrote about God having an ‘eternal appetite of infancy,’ that is to say, he doesn’t grow old or tired, but lives each day with the same passion and excitement as when the world was first created. Our Heavenly Father, according to Chesterton, is younger than we are.
There’s a strange occurrence that happens when you go to a lot of graduations. You begin to think about the time when you graduated and how the years have added up since then. Time is a fickle thing like that, always adding and never subtracting. When you’re young, the road ahead looks wide and vast, and never-ending. Then one day you realize how quickly the time is moving. That day is called reality and it’s sobering and a little painful.