How rocks are like cinema

In lockdown, in lieu of going to the movies, I watched rocks coming and going very very slowly, in a time frame longer than movies, even longer than lockdown. I studied each rock hoping to see how it is in the process of disappearing and how it is evolving into something new.  The movie A Star Is Born in fact could be remade starring two rocks. We could focus on both of these movements, separating them into two persona: the old performer (rock) who is fading out, the new one who is rising.

A stone is a narrative of events rather than an order.  They cannot be understood in a single view, not even a series of views, only in constant movement, but then every previous micro-image dissolves and changes to the next so that we can only understand the rock in its entirely if we employ memory to construct it.

In this way rocks are like cinema.

Except No, because a rock has an interior. And what is the relationship between the outside surface and the interior of a rock? (1000 words)

And does cinema have an unviewable “interior”? (1000 words)

The time frame of the rock reassured me in my flighty lockdown anxiety. These rocks are not worrying about anything. They accept their situation with equanimity.