If we were having coffee, I’d have to tell you about my random thought at work on Friday that wouldn’t go away.
“If this week were a film, what would it be?”
The narrative would be lose and uneven, driving the action in no specific direction.
The main character spends most of her waking hours sitting in a windowless office at a desk in front of a large monitor. She sits in a black ergonomic chair, usually propped up by a silk chestnut cushion decorated with muted green, yellow and red origami folds. 10 hours a day she’s plotting charts to track performance, trudging through the dirty details of the next cool party, squeezing out ideas to convince everyone they need her product…
However, the tension between action and true desire would create some interest.
Deep down or high up, somewhere between her buried dreams and soaring soul, she knows her true purpose isn’t what she spends most of her waking hours polishing. That shiny corporate life. She wants to be somewhere else, in a rhyme and colour infused mess, by the sea somewhere, having coffee with you and creating things that would make her insides sing. But for now, she’s peddling her light for a crown of daisies.
Will there be a satisfying dénouement?
We don’t know yet but it seems hopeful since there is the saving grace of a self-reflexive character who is at present asking “why am I here?” Every character in a story has a motive and looking at this one, we might be tempted to think her raison d’etre was to be a fancy pancy desk slave. She almost fools herself into believing that too. Almost.
PS: I took a module on American film at university and became quite obsessed with Maya Deren’s 1943 Meshes of the Afternoon. I loved its weirdness and cyclical narrative, the fragments of herself that she kept discovering with every dream sequence. Sometimes being that corporate person has the same scary surreal quality.