Page 202 - Flaunt 175 - Diana
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Take relationships, for instance. This is not an arbitrary metaphor here: acting is all relationships; nature is all relation- ships. Have you noticed what a fallacy it is to think you could ever do anything in life alone? We’re not saying never be alone, but...you get the picture. If the relationship is about fighting tooth-and-nail, is it really worth it?
One of the most notable lines from the great spiritualist Ram Dass appears: suffering is grace.
Is it? The declaration feels true. At the end of the day, suffering leads us to a higher ground, that is, assuming we are open to the higher ground.
What a magical idea.
The house is already there.
It smacks of: The Kingdom of God is within you. We’re street preachers now, yelling beautiful beatitudes
to ears that will listen amidst fruit stands and boiling peanuts.
And speaking of Kingdoms—we find ourselves in Moonrise Kingdom, which was Hedges’ first work with Wes Anderson, whereaf- ter he went on to turn a small role in Grand Buda- pest Hotel.
It’s here in Moonrise.
Find the child again: The Source.
You ask: What is The Source? Don’t be silly. You know what The Source is. It’s that thing you’ve always felt. Put down The Devil’s Advocate Sword and feel it. Know it. Be it!
And how do we not mention the moment an actor works with Wes Anderson? Working with Anderson feels like the actor gets the kooky-credibility card, in the best possible way. Carte-blanche to chameleon your way behind a members only velvet rope.
In Moonrise, Hedges’ role was, in fact, small, yet again
he beams. And he rides a motorcycle. If saddling a rumbling engine is not the perfect break-free-of-the-reigns-of-youth moment, we don’t know what is. Riding a motorcycle is akin to losing teeth in dreams—innocence replaced by reality, and riding a motorcycle is god damned fun.
“Other people have different destiny paths,” Hedges admits, “Things align for them and not for me.”
And after the Moonrise comes a more awakened dawning, right? More and more work. Endless traipses across screens. Playing every kind of youth character archetype Carl Jung’s analytic aspiration might ever desire. Hellion to hero, Hedg- es’ chops are thick. So what about experience, Mr. Hedges?
He pauses, head sideways, “The difference with the cultural idea of experience, and my idea of experience, is that my idea of experience is that it doesn’t have to be work. Ex- perience can be joy. You can grow through joy as opposed to, ‘I gotta put my hours in’. Sometimes it’s laborious, obviously, but when I learn most, it’s through projects where there’s joy. I do my best when it’s joy, and when you’re dealing with joy, the whole notion of any journey gets thrown out the window, because the moment you have right now is everything, and there is nothing to build towards.”
Well, that sounds like another line from Ram Dass: Be here now.
But not so fast. Hedges says, “I drove myself insane earlier in my career. Going to acting school—acting school was just me driving myself crazy. I thought it was some place or some deal where I had
to go build a house...but
I didn’t realize I was born
in the house.”
“I THINK OUR CULTURE HAS AN OBSESSION WITH BECOMING WORSE TO GET BETTER. MAYBE IT CAN BE MEASURED VERY SIMPLY, IN THAT YOU CAN TELL WHEN SOMEBODY IS IN AN UNNECESSARY CYCLE OF SUFFERING WHEN IT’S THE SAME PROBLEM OVER AND OVER AGAIN. BUT IF IT’S NEW SUFFERING AND DIFFERENT CHALLENGES, THEN IT’S P ROBABLY GRACE. IF YOU HAV- EN’T EVOLVED PASSED THE SAME PROBLEM, THEN YOU’RE PROBABLY STUCK.”
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