The tragedy of being one of my cats is apparent in their play. Fiction will stalk a sparkly bell toy weaving back and forth from behind a chair, just working up the fury to pounce. He finally does, but the moment he puts his paw on the toy, it necessarily ceases to dance, and it ceases also to be something that Fiction wants. You can watch as he immediately loses interest. This is because Fiction doesn’t crave the bell as an object like a person would. Instead he’s trying, every day, to capture the movement of that toy — to somehow hold onto the vibrance of it. The trouble is of course, that it crushes everything to touch it.
There’s an old Jeff Mangum interview where he talks about a vision that he had with a butterfly and a spider, which taught him not to try and grasp things that are really important, but just to let them exist. It’s a long explanation so I won’t copy it all here, but you can read it at http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/31406-interview-neutral-milk-hotel
Fiction gets around his problem by doing acrobatic backflips in the air to get his face and hands as close as he can to the moving toy, arching over his head. It’s really cool for everyone, I think.
