[I] may be crazy but I'm the closest thing I have to a voice of reason.

08 April 2010

Catch and Release

“Pardon me while I live in a fantasy
quietly show you everything you’ll ever need.”

As I serialize each chapter of The Movie Lovers, I let myself have a little more control, worrying less about consistency - the length of the blog, the potential attention span of readers, any expectations about continuity of storyline - returning to the kind of writer I am, the kind that created a story compared to On the Road and the gonzo journalism of Hunter S. Thompson. (Dear sweet readers! You literally make my year when you say such things.) That was the long way of saying that this section of Chapter 4, At The Movies, is short. It wants to stand on its own. It needs to stand on its own.

And I had something more to say here, but it swam off. Catch and release, some thoughts are that way. All I know is that in serializing I have come to view this book as the love story that it is. It is uncommon to write a love story between two who are not lovers, not potential lovers, not even desiring to have reality change so that they might become lovers. And now, for the first time, I can see where that might confuse readers, flashing as it does like a bright lure in the water. Or is it everything I’ve ever needed?


Einstein once dreamed of a master theory that connected everything and today string theory posits that everything, everything, in the universe is composed of tiny vibrating strings, strings smaller than the particles most of us were taught about in school, smaller than atoms, smaller than quarks. Deep inside the particles we call atoms and quarks are tiny filaments vibrating to a particular frequency and the vibrations of these filaments are what we perceive as matter. Knowing that all matter is made up of tiny filament-like strings, vibrating the world into being; that the vibration of a single filament creates the light we see every day in our homes; that the vibration of a different kind of string creates the music we hear from a piano or a violin; all this brings new layers of meaning to phrases such as “seeing the light” and “making beautiful music together”; and it makes me think that opposites like Cliff and I are attracted not to learn how to vibrate at the same frequency, which might never happen, but to find the hum of harmony. I don’t know. I don’t have a master theory. I have the movies. And when I had Jose, he and I vibrated like strings on the same violin, chords on the same piano, lights twinkling on the same strand; we were the movies, flickering along together as the interplay of light and dark in an old black and white movie.

All contents of Sins of the Eldest Daughter / dinarozellebarnett.blogspot.com/
are copyrighted © and may not be used without permission from the creator.


  1. This is gorgeous. I'm experience this now with a man I will never meet, never see, never hear his voice, yet... I feel his vibrations with a ping of desire. I'd thought desire was long dead and living only in my past to be used as material. But no, I'm still capable of desire.

    You're scarily smart.

    Love the term Accidental Cougar. That too describes me. We might be vibrating on the same string.

  2. LMAO. Honey, we should talk!

    But first let me say thank you. It was you who landed here, at a blog that was title only (technical difficulties), and said: "I'm sensing we have some things in common. So why are you just tweeting music so far?"

    Your comment got me off the dead center, and I cannot thank you enough for that.