It was a short called "Traveling Fields" by Inger Lise Hansen. Here's the promo still:
It's not available online. You're gonna have to see it screened somewhere to be knocked right out of your very planetary complacency. If it works on you like it worked on me.
I like suddenly having heightened (broadened) awareness of how we are matter held to this hunk of rock by gravity, and what else is out there is out there, not up there. It's maybe even down there, if you're not being all vertical, like we bipeds think is the shiz.
Pillars to establish perspective, asphalt, bits of plant life, a rock here and there, and poles with power lines in crossing grids, plus steady horizontal motion and time lapse, with the sky on the bottom--- the sky on the bottom. I know I'm not gonna get the wonder of it across to you, so I accept that I'm just reporting that I had an experience with it that has changed me, in a shockingly novel way that feels like (an) enlightenment. I didn't see it in its regular presentation, but it was screened in the Sunday noon "What the Hell was That?" talk at the U art museum, and then I got to see it again Sunday night, cuz it won an award for technical innovation. I'm bubbly with gratitude to it and to happenstance for putting me in front of it.
That celeb rehabber I was telling you about the other day---the one whose blog I like cuzza her recovery-perfect tag cloud use---another thing I like about her is that she calls her higher power "Gravity." That's a cool idea, in more than one way I perceive, but one of which is that gravity's what just there. It's what we have to deal with. There's no denying it. It's just how it is. It's a central-metaphorical version of how it is. But how that force is in a planetary way is a different thing to me today, from looking at things that crafted other way for 9 minutes.
Just before I started typing here I was thinking how I'd like to have continuing access to this altered perspective, and I remembered the existence of inversion chairs. Or tables, it seems they call them, too. Ostensibly one would want one of those to decompress spinal and other jointly connections. I want it in order to see upside down. I like that feeling in your head of blood going the other way, too. That's the main draw of (frequently) wanting to throw myself into a cartwheel my body would not likely withstand so well. So now I need an inversion device, and it needs to accommodate a big girl, and it'll be really cool if it's relatively portable. And that portability brings me to another new vision: an alternative to the eccentric townie persona I was concocting, with help from friends, a few years ago.
As I tune in on it more, will there be a dog in that picture, too? Holding its torso a foot away from the planet by positioning 4 limbs in a certain boxy fashion?