Tuesday, December 17, 2013

On the Passing of Peter O’Toole

 Yes, I heard about the death of Lawrence of Arabia… I awoke and saw the news and sat very still in my little bedroom and stared at the wall and thought about the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.
 The desert plays tricks with your mind, makes you think about all the things you know and don’t know, the mirages of memory and the haze of what may come. 
 When you are in the desert, there are only two colors.  This sandy rolling butter tan, almost an edible wave of endless horizon like the body of a lover laid out before you, and then above, in brilliant crystal cerulean so piercing and magnificent, a stratosphere of dreamy blue to lose oneself in.
 David Lean must have known this when casting O’Toole to play the famed author of the Seven Pillars of Wisdom.  In his countenance alone, such stark contrast between the Earth and Sky.
Staring into the blue eyes of a person can haunt you that way.  As if the world around you melts into a barren landscape and all you see and feel and desire to hold is that blue.  At least, so I’ve been told.  The eyes will always have it.

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