Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Edward Scissorhands


I had an epiphany today. You know one of those moments when all your planets of thought are aligning?

There is a movie called "Edward Scissorhands" which describes this best. It's about a created human being, who instead of hands has scissors. His creator had died before he was able to give him hands. Edward is an extraordinary artist, making marvelous sculptures out of ice, bushes etc. He has also lead his entire life alone. Until one day he wanders down from his castle in the mountains to a local suburb. Instantly he is feared, but also embraced for his skills to sculpt, cut hair and the like.

There comes a moment however, when he becomes a monster. He sees a child almost being run over by a car, so he runs and tackles the kid off the road. His human instincts tell him to touch the child, ask him if he is ok and check if he is hurt. However, because of the scissors, all Edward does, is cut the child's face. He hurts him. Although, his intentions are the opposite. Edward is shocked himself. He cannot help himself.

There is the urge to touch, but the desire not to hurt. There might be the urge to hurt, but there is also the capability of feeling guilt and remorse. In a sense, Edward becomes locked inside himself. He cannot be evil, nor good. He can only be himself, by himself, within himself.

Crowds of people gather around him and call him a monster, a freak, and evil. Edward is confused. He realizes that he is unwanted, a monster so he runs off to the woods. There is also the other monster. The crowd. How can you label a person a monster that is chained by his own short-comings? That, is monstrous.

So Edward runs off, back to the mountains and starts to sculpt. The particles flying off the block of ice, falls down upon the suburb, like snow. Which raises the question, someone can be a monster, yet create joy for a crowd. Art becomes the hands he never was given, the flesh, the capability to touch, to love to respond. Art becomes his medium to spread joy. When interacted with, purely monster, but through a mediator, he becomes beautiful. Not only does an artist create beautiful things. Art, also creates a beautiful person.

I sat up in my apartment, overlooking the streets of this city, making a sculpture. Suddenly it struck me. The words a girl had spoken two me not so long ago. I was kissing her, and she says "Stop." I ask why. She says "because it feels good." If it felt good, why did she want me to stop? The fact is that the kiss felt good, not me. Touch feels good, as long is not from me. I realized that I am and have become the monster, that only can hurt with my touch. She was offended, and I didn't understand why. I wanted her to feel good and beautiful, but she was tormented and tortured. It didn't feel good. Otherwise she wouldn't have asked me to stop. So I run off in the middle of the night. I come back to my apartment, and I feel safe. Because there is no one around me. Not a human being. No one who can make me feel like a monster.

So as I sat there sculpting, I knew, that there is no way that I can give people joy by touching them or loving them, as I haven't been given hands, only scissors. I realized that not only do I want to create something beautiful, but I want that something that I make, to in turn make me, beautiful.

All I want is to be beautiful.


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