King Kong - "It's not about words"

This phrase (it's not about words) is used in the movie when the two lovers are on the verge of meeting, of a kiss. So many times we feel we are on the verge of something wonderful... this wonderfulness can be lived in so many different ways.

We can delve in it, enjoying the deep syntony of the beyond, or we can try to use it to catch something we miss more acutely: fame, togetherness, recognition, acceptance…

Money.

The film is also a lot about money, and some strange director who wants to put the mystery back in the world "and we can all have a piece of it… for the price of an admission ticket." But that is the thing you learn: by selling away the mystery, putting it on some foreign language (and all language is foreign to true lovers), in some extravagant clothes, it gets distorted, unbalanced, imprisoned…

In fact, we might be given something away that is similar to the true mystery, the true thing, but we give nothing but spectacle, an appearance of what can only be found in the beyond.

Obviously, there is something to the world of pictures and words, it is through them that we all get along and communicate, that we find out about the lovely and the beautiful. It is in words that that tremendous sentence is catched:

"The beauty killed the beast"

For that is the fate of us all. To be freed by beauty of our beastly nature. The awakening of consciousness.

For me personally this movie is about the impossibility to communicate; so many times were the beauty and the beast hand in body, eyes in eyes, and the words, wanting to speak out, impossible… the true story behind the saving of the girl, where is courage after all? Is it in the man that presents himself as courageous? Or was it courage something entirely different, presented to him on occasion, something he grabbed and hold on to and then escaped, in thin air, as mysterious as it was its coming?

The fact is, it is very difficult to say something beautiful, because we are all surrounded just by parts, and beauty is of the whole. When we show a leg, an arm, a word, a sentence, an idea, we are not showing something per se beautiful. In fact, nothing we can write or say, or show in our bodies or minds can actually be the whole. The whole can only be appreciated in an entirely different manner. But that is the problem: when we speak, although we may want to point to the whole, what we show is our finger. There is no way to change that.

What we have to communicate: bodies, faces, limbs, vocal stretches of the imagination, words, concepts, hairs, clothes, computers, theories, mathematics... we use all this to communicate, but this can say so little, it cannot point to the truly beautiful things of Existence.

In the movie there are these beautiful images, of the girl, of the hug in the sun. But they really show what is intended? No! They do not show, unless for eyes that see (beyond).

Real maturity entails understanding that one thing is our inner being, that we experience directly, and in which we can taste the truly divine, but that what others see is the outer shell: the words, the body, the sex, the shell. It is impossible not to be understood having to pass through all this *covers*. They do cover. Whatever we say is covered in darkness and, being symbolic, cannot truly express what we feel, unless to someone that has already experienced it. "True love" is a meaningless expression to all that have not experienced it. The same about faces, and gestures, and books, and whatever. The do not communicate the "experience" they can only symbolize it.

That's what I think is meant by the expression:

"unfailing ability to destroy the things he loves"

Because in art, in expression, the feeling is dead. The consciousness is dead.

That is why Art, being the greatest door, can easily become the deadliest trap. Because Art, although created to communicate the greatest things, is never alive in itself, it is never consciousness. At most it his a door to an inner realm of transcendence. But even then, it can only lead to the way, it cannot make us go through it. So Art, words, communication, is only valid as a tool.

When we look at Art as having a value in itself, as being greater that the fool that sees it, we have become entraped in a world of shadows, for we have preferred the picture of the sun to the sun itself. But the picture of the sun is nothing but a painted piece of paper. It cannot warm.

Just as our bodies are nothing but flesh and bone.

It is amazing how we can communicate beauty through such things.