Clarice Arther
2:55
Hermit is a short experimental-lyrical film inspired by Stan Brakhage's Cat's Cradle (1959).
Transcript:
You see with your eyes but you’re somehow still asleep. As sun rays gleam through the slight crevices, the world’s physicality’s suddenly have a voice. This voice is all too familiar. a loud and proud acknowledgement of not only itself but you as well. So you confess to this voice, and at last, a simple recognition has allowed the clock to proceed. With the many voices of the world, yours asks the question. what happened while I was gone? You were gone but you’ve returned, with determination to reclaim yourself. A metamorphosis if you will. You reside in a space built for beings like you, with eyes to see, ears to hear, and legs to walk. as you peel an orange, Citrus stings a cut on your thumb, and for a moment, you’re aware of what is taking place. But, you are mindful that pain does not last forever, and when the stinging departs, you have retreated back to remembering not only what has happened before, but what is going to later. Why is it that you cannot declare the present? Maybe because fruit has met you with satisfaction, and an unconscious appraisal is on your mind. You’re so aware of the orange, how great of you to be conscious. What about now- have you thought about what is occurring now? No, not between you and the orange, though between you and nothing else? Because you feel unable, it seems you’ve not gathered those thoughts. You know you have eyes to see, ears to hear, and legs to walk, you remember, right? You locate the space that is occupied, yet you can’t quite seem to locate the occupant. The things your eyes look at, the sound your ears absorb, and the places your legs invite you have since vanished. You said farewell to those after the clock proceeded when you acknowledged the voice. Today you’re blinded, but you can try again later. As you know time and time again, the voice always returns when you do. But the voice does not depend on you, and you realize you depend on the voice. Your refusal to locate the present maintains your state of contentment. It is a sign of protest. At last, you understand that the voice does not have an expiration date, but like the orange, you do.
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