I’ve been through many things in my life. Three children, two wives, five states in three time zones, God knows how many jobs, etc, etc, etc. But, the one constant in my life has been movies. I talk about movies (a lot), I watch movies, I buy movies (probably more than I should), I read books about movies and so on.
More than once, in times of sadness, I’ve questioned my love of film. I’ve worried that others would view my love of movies as shallow, or indicative of a lack of literacy. I’ve re-enrolled in college to study literature, because that’s a “serious” art, unlike cinema (or so I thought). I’ve purged my physical media collection, telling myself that I should only own “great” or “important” films, that there was no room for schlock or simple entertainments.
Why do I do this? Why do I question my love of something? Why do I not simply acknowledge my love and move on with my life?
Put simply: I have issues.
It’s only been in the last few months that I’ve come to accept, even embrace my love of all things cinema. Sadly, I had to go through some pretty dark stuff to reach this point. Thankfully, I have a wife that understands, even if she doesn’t share, my passion. I can’t imagine my life without movies and I don’t want to imagine my life without her.
I’m going to make a point of updating this blog a bit more frequently (I know, I know: I’ve said that before), but now I want to focus less on academic analysis and trying to impress strangers and more on just being honest. This will be a place where I share my thoughts on all things movies: collecting physical media, boutique labels, the cinema experience, how films are intertwined with memory and anything else that happens to pop into my head.
Will I still talk about movies?
Well, obviously.
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