Occasionally a movie becomes more than a movie. It becomes an entity unto itself, a metaphor for life. This is the case for me with the The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Perhaps they're not my favorite films of all time, but I did enjoy each a great deal. Perhaps I wouldn't select them for a relaxing evening at home now, but that's because who really has 557 minutes to spare?
What I like about these movies is that they're highly quotable. And they're sticky, meaning that the characters and moments have lodged themselves in my brain, allowing me to frequently draw analogies between the movies and the experiences in my own life.
Because obviously I'm living an epic adventure.
For instance, whenever my children ask for two snacks between breakfast and lunch -- which is daily -- I suspect that they're hobbits. I hear Pippin in my head, "What about second breakfast? What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn't he?"
Whenever I'm weary, I remember Biblo's description of being spread thin, like butter scraped over too much bread.
And when I call attention to myself in an undesirable fashion, I imagine the Eye, lidless and wreathed in flame, peering down on me.
Ah, man, I brought the Eye toward me again! Drat.
So, while I recently was going about my business in the kitchen (code for sweeping up crumbs and noticing how often my socks stuck to the floor), I paused when I saw this:
And then I really paused when I saw this:
My daughter reported that she simply had been making turkey vultures by tracing her hand. (She's advanced beyond mere turkeys. We're onto vultures.)
But when I studied the cut-out of her hand, I didn't see a turkey vulture. I saw my daughter claiming all objects as her own -- starting with this riding toy -- by marking them with her hand print.
I saw the hand of Saruman.
I saw this:
And I'm not sure what this reveals about me.
LOTR Images compliments of mormondiscussion.com and myecdysis.com