Bring Me Sunshine
Walsh, Bernard. 2016. Bring Me Sunshine. London: Ditto Press. ISBN 978-0-9567952-6-7 [Book]
Abstract or Description
Jean Paul Sartre is waiting, waiting to become what he wants to become through writing, writing about what he is still trying to figure out a way to put his thoughts into words. So he spends hours that turn into days that turn into weeks that turn into months that turn into a lifetime of asking himself:
Is this really what I’m meant to be doing?
Sartre is marking his presence on the Earth, trying to make sense of a situation through writing words, words that will eventually represent his thoughts as if those thoughts were still alive.
Does that make sense? Sartre thinks. Can a thought have a life of its own?
He doesn’t like the words, but he starts to write them down, just in case.
Can - ‘scratch’ - a thought – ‘scratch, scratch’ - have a life – ‘scratch, scratch’ - of its own – ‘scratch, scratch, scratch’… Oh no! What is happening? Now we are travelling through time and space. “Losing you Sartre, we are losing you”, flying across an ocean, entering another time zone, no longer in Paris, we’re in New York, and oh my goodness it is, isn’t it, it is Carrie Bradshaw. We see her through an open window, until the camera moves us into the room where we see her typing a script from which the actress Sarah Jessica Parker who plays Carrie in the television series Sex and the City and two subsequent movies, is just about to say the words that will enable us to understand these words represent Carrie’s thoughts, as those thoughts are escaping from somewhere that is deep within her subconscious, some might call it her soul, or others might call it … I don’t know what they might call it, but whatever it is, it is deep, very deep, and it’s late at night, and Carrie is alone in her room with her thoughts.
The walls in the apartment are painted blue, an ocean blue, but the shade is very close to Benjamin Moore’s Electric Blue. There’s an undercurrent of white elements in the room, including billowing curtains, ceramic lamps, an old leather armchair and a mid-century credenza with sliding doors that might hide an amount of clutter.
“Hmm!” she exclaims, while she continues to click, click, click away at her computer, before she tilts her head to one side, and then to the other
“Hold it there, Sarah, beautiful. Now let your eyes drift to one side a little but don’t look at anything. You’re lost in that thought, whatever it is, as you start to lift your arm… no your right arm Sarah, lift your right arm above your head, and move your hand across your forehead, relax your fingers and yes - touch your eyebrow, it might loosen the thought.
And it does the trick.
“Now you’re ready to say the words that you’re already typing into the computer as you are thinking out-loud:
“Hmm! I wonder if a thought can ever have a life of its own?”