A Quiet Spectator

Today, I’m craving cozy. Outside, the sky is a bright, pale gray spread evenly with cloud cover. The ocean is relatively still, no more than a slight ripple ruffling its marbled, liquid surface. Only a couple of sailboats are on display in our limited view and Sandy Hook appears to be enjoying a well deserved day off from its usual bumper to bumper beach traffic. All seems quiet on this hazy, summer day in our upper corner of the New Jersey shore.

Behind me, the kettle works up enough steam to whistle and summons me to my Café du Monde souvenir mug and chamomile tea. The boiling water sighs with relief as I pour it over the tea bag. I squeeze a couple drops of wildflower honey onto a teaspoon and stir it into the exhaling mug, the sugar and motion working together to cloud the brew. I cool the spoon and taste it, conjuring the image of a colorful meadow as warm sweetness blooms across my taste buds, mingling with the forged aftertaste of hot metal.

I think I’ll pay a visit to my DVD collection which has recently been minimized and organized to fit in the three drawers of our simple entertainment stand. Pulling out all three drawers, I can peruse my entire collection, nothing hiding from view. After glancing over the titles a couple of times, Jane Eyre (BBC 2006) keeps pulling me back. Having learned to listen to this sense of magnetism when it comes to selecting things, I pull out the box and pop disc one into the tray, anticipating my return visit to the mysterious Thornfield Hall and those who dwell there.

For some DVDs, I use the “scene selection” function to skip past the initial exposition of the story that I have grown familiar with and immediately go to the part of the story that initially captures my interest. For this particular DVD, I skip to the third scene selection option and settle in for some cozy viewing and tea sipping on the couch.

Movies are a great resource for creating atmosphere and escapism. They are portals into other times, places, cultures, and personal lives, and it is such a privilege to be an audience to stories that differ from my own setting and personal experience. As a minimalist, movies can also be a great way to quench the odd maximal craving, but I’ll save my thoughts on that for another time.

My desired atmosphere today, as mentioned above, is cozy (as it often is), and to me, cozy is evoked in images of chilly weather, dim lighting, warm firelight glow, hearty meals, rustic textures and prints, being safe inside, and friends gathering together to be embroiled in a mystery that they do not immediately realize is happening. I sit comfortably on my couch, a spectator enjoying my escape into Miss Eyre and Mr. Rochester’s story. I am happy to be at a safe distance so as not to experience the dangers that the mysterious plot has yet to unveil but that are clearly implied through the score’s delicate, minor piano notes and string bow strokes piercing the silence of the living room like the wandering gaze of an oil portrait in a haunted estate.

I’ll leave you with that image for now.

I cannot guarantee that the oil portrait’s gaze will leave you as easily…