"The Artist" Afterglow

It's been a few days now, and I'm still not quite able to shake the joyful exuberant high of The Artist.  While the film is starting to settling, it reminds of the personal connection of the cinematic art form-- that special and altogether rare feeling that a film may have been made especially for you.  Not that I'm a silent film die-hard (I've seen a few, but harder enough), but that feeling of instant affection on a film feels slightly akin to a love at first sight moment.  Even if on future views, it proves underwhelming, and the afterglow softens, there was that magical first glance that infectious, contagious, and furthers the want and need for the highest art in the cinema, or life in that matter.  And almost like a first love itself, The Artist has this uniquely intangible quality where I feel like I've seen a movie for the first time.  The delight and joy of a moving picture, and artful blend of the very old and the very new; the knowing gestures of the yore of Hollywood, but also beacon of hope for the medium in the future.  Perhaps pure hyperbole, yet I've got that feeling, this just might just be the movie of the year...or perhaps that love-at-first-sight-moment will prove to be a mere tease...

It matters nil almost to me if the film makes its appearance at the Kodak next February...I just want to share this movie with all.  I know the high I have with movies will never dissipate, but I hope the high that I'm coasting on from The Artist never leaves.