#project05

My focus with the moving images project is “light”. 

My interpretation of the “God Stops By” piece by Paige Lewis is that the speaker is yearning to be God. I think the way that they talk about Him as a regular person that sleeps more and is taking care of their health implies a desire to switch roles. The speaker seems a bit jealous and projects their mortality to God, while daydreaming about assuming the role of the divine and being capable of creating new life. But God’s parting message leaves them feeling even more human. 

One representation of God is light. To make the presence and desire of light more clear, I’ve decided to create contrast in the beginning of my presentation with darkness. Hence, I’ve added the text: 

“The bathwater is clouded with dirt and soap. I look into it and read my past. It is a difficult book. I prop it up. It flaps its pages. It is preening in the wind.” 

God Stops By

to show me how healthy He’s been. He’s sleeping more. He built his own gym.

Mostly muscle now, He gives me the fat off his steak. I eat because He offers, not

because I need—it’s hard to feel hungry when everything in this world tastes small

and wrong, like rubber grapes or sun-boiled eggs. When I was small, I was certain

that what was holy was mine—I caught moths in the garden, pressed their wings

between my thickest book, and waited for new moths to sprout up and out

of the pages. I ask God if He considers me a cracked seed of grace. He says,

Yes, dear. I understand. It would be exhausting to lead a life with careful consideration

for all things—stepping over anthills, saving lizards from pools. I mean, if I was God enough

to be idolized, every statue would be a golden depiction of me riding a goose-drawn chariot,

absentmindedly resting my shepherd’s scythe an inch away from their curved white

throats. Before God leaves, He clears the table, pats my head, and presses two messages into

my palms. In my left, You are the bridge. In my right, You are the dust.