Silent, Darryl and I sat in front of Justin. At any cigar Lounge I have visited, we often sit in silence. Wherever individuals congregate, silence is crucial. The mind needs it. The soul needs it. But congregating, as well as the presence of inquisitive minds, is never truly about silence. As enjoyable and as needed as it is, it will be broken.
Sol came to us and threw some words about Lotto. Justin introduced himself and made his first comment which followed mine. The silence was broken. A couple of hours later, Darryl and I sat in silence. In our minds reflecting upon what the conversation had produced, we suddenly realised, and expressed the joy of having participated in a multi-level conversation with Justin — a young body with a versatile and mature mind.
Does it really matter that I call my handlings those of a technician, or of an artist? That the mind, in source and repercussion, handles responsibly, and, especially that the handling is backed by structure and freedom, calculation and progression, in either, and in all, creativity seems to be the true matter.
We are professors, lawyers, builders, musicians, writers, painters… and we will all generally respond within, and out of our being, and our quotidian calling, technically or playfully, abiding by technical frames and rules, or creative freedom and impulse.
Either in silence, or in conversation, for these minds that gather here to smoke, the principal common denominator seems to be vibrancy and subtleties of the intellect.
Justin had initially expressed that, while he might welcome being called an artist, in the cinema world, he sees himself as a technician. I commented my believe that a Quentin Tarantino will certainly see himself as an artist. Justin disagreed. I was a bit surprised, and moved on with the two sides of the thought.