Sunday, August 15, 2010

BRUNO S.


It is true that Bruno S. died today. Such a wonderful actor who wasn’t an actor at all. He did many great things for the movies. Playing the accordian was one of those things. Opening up his eyes was another. If it is possible, the greatest contribution Bruno S. made to the arts was the way in which he comported himself when people beat him up, which was beautiful. Filled with equal parts joy and sorrow. And magic and grace. And it seemed to all take place under water, even though it really didn't, in small, untidy rooms in Berlin–slowly, in the majesty of Berlin.

And Bruno S. was perfect at being lost. "Where am I?" is a phrase that Bruno S. could say better than almost anyone.

"Who am I?" was also a phrase that Bruno S. could execute deftly.

And Bruno S. showed everyone how elegantly one can watch one’s repossessed mobile home drive away. And that was in Wisconsin. Imagine having your mobile home drive away and being alone in Wisconsin. I couldn't do that until Bruno S. showed me what that meant. "There goes my mobile home!" I said, once Bruno S. showed me how if felt to be that man, there.

Normally I would say it is not possible but I watched him do this and he did, so it was possible, but no longer so, as Bruno S. died today.

Dying, I think, it a lot like being beaten up underwater in Berlin. It is a lot like watching your mobile home drive away in Wisconsin. Death is definitely like playing the accordian. "I have a beautiful tune and I want to share it with the world." Bruno S. didn’t say that; he didn’t have to. He said other things. Like for example...

It doesn't matter. He cannot, but that doesn’t bother Bruno S. at all now.

The “S” of "Bruno S." I discovered, did actually stand for something. I discovered that only after he died. But since Bruno S. chose not to say anything about S, neither will I.

“A little boy dreams that one day he will have a horse,” Bruno S. once said, “and then one day he sees a horse coming towards him, carrying his Mother’s coffin.”

We often speak of what separates ‘desert’ from ‘dessert’ and we often say that it is simple, it is the matter of one "s". Yes, it is that: Bruno S. A boy and his horse. A boy loves his horse. Bruno S.

No comments:

Real Time Analytics