Thursday, January 31, 2013
Day Thirty-one - Kevin Smith: Burn In Hell, "So much mad respect, man."
Not only does it mark my first completed calendar month of the project (thirty-one days down, three hundred thirty-four left to go)... but, in a few hours, after finishing today's bit, I'm going to be front row, a little off center, to Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes when they do their Getting Old bit in Durango.
I'm actually pretty psyched (and a little sheepish, concerning what he has to say about critics during BIH), despite the crap I may give Smith on the podcast.
So, in order to rev myself up, I decided today's Netflix dish would be Kevin Smith's post-Red State Q&A, Burn in Hell... and I think, even if I weren't about to see them live, this would be a great inspirational piece for any creatives out there.
I'm sure there are some art school hipsters out there who would beg to disagree in most vehement terms, but his messages concerning life, death, and creativity are spot on, if a little meandery here and there.
Full disclosure, there were points during his art speech where he was going on about having sex in a Denny's bathroom that I completely focused on both his voice and the story-at-that-moment that I forgot that it was all just a giant metaphor about how passionate you have to be for your craft.
I think the most powerful story he told, though, came in his relating of his father's death and how profoundly it effected him. It honestly moved me to tears and I had to pause the stream the first time I watched it a few months back. I was able to blink them back today, but they were still there.
Both times I've heard that segment, I've thought about my own relationship to my parents and felt a wrenching pain because I know that the day is coming. Maybe not soon and maybe misfortune will befall me ahead of them, but at some point it is coming. I think about my relationship with mine and Smith's with his family and I can't help but be jealous because I'm not the success he is at life and they had those wonderful moments, even despite the screaming at the end.
I wish I could give those moments (you know, sans screaming) to my parents... and I aim to change that to more than just a wish and make it a reality.
That's how moving this Q&A was to me.
It's a certainty that I can recommend this to any creative (or just anyone interested). Sure, it's a little vulgar, but that's the man's medium. Heck, it's my medium, when I'm not censoring myself for print or daily interactions.
To the point, though, it's honest, warm, and real... and is something we rarely get from our artists, a peak behind the curtain into the personal.
Until tomorrow, Potatoes~