On the DVD, middle of the moment, there is a bonus film, My Eye Your Eye. Filmed in Patmos in May 1999, this is Robert Lax’s last year in Greece, roughly his last year of life. For 21 minutes you see only Lax’s head and his right hand, which holds a wooden staff of sorts (a walking stick or ... a broomstick?!). He wears a navy blue knit hat. The only movement is in his eyes, and ever so slight movements of his head. Lax does not look at the camera, his eyes are mostly downcast, but he is awake and aware, watching and waiting, and you are drawn into his profound stillness.
All of those who were able to meet Lax during his lifetime consider it a particular stroke of fortune. They say that from that point on he became part of their bodies and souls, as though they had met a true saint.
My Eye Your Eye is like being in the presence of holiness. For 20 minutes. Watching and waiting. I've always wanted to know better what Bob Lax was like - how he was. This film does it.
There is a poem of the same name by Lax:
My eye. Your eye. Or even if it’s mine and mine.
Why should my eye look at your eye?
Why should yours look into mine?
Am I seeking out a glance, a look in darkness?
Post a Comment