I often get unexpected visitors in the clinic.
Ozu bows and shows segments from Tokyo Story.
Poets of various stripes read theirs poems as offerings of empathy.
Writers will relate their novels to stories of migration.
I was doing a physical on a 13 yo boy entering drug rehab
as his mother watched.
He was an artist but what could I say,
an old man having heard too many stories of bad choices.
Then, Rembrandt showed up
with a bag of clothes from Mad Hatter Clothing Shop.
He took over and shapeshifted himself from
a young wide eyed, open mouth youth with tousled hair
to a bareheaded wide nose, smiling prodigal son
and, finally,
to a old man in a velvet cloak with a sense of self knowledge.
We were dazzled by this gallery of self-portraits
as Rembrandt gave the young artist a written prescription
to draw during his 45 day program
a self-portrait everyday
and see what happens.
Yes! Reminds me of Ruth Ozeki’s very short book, The Face: A Time Code, in which she spends three hours staring at her face in a mirror and records her experience.
I like how mundane becomes metaphysical. Quite cinematic, too.