I was a child of the 1980s and ’90s. I’m not sure if it had to do with the time in particular (cable TV, VCRs, latch-key afternoons), but I spent a lot of time watching movies over and over. I swear, my sister and I memorized quite a few films over the course of our young teen years, including the epic and iconic Wayne’s World (1992). So, it is with utter joy that I have been given an opportunity to revisit it in relationship to the kind of work I do today. For the Winter 2012 issue of Monte Cristo, I was invited to write a film column for the magazine and decided to draw from popular cinema, fringe film and gallery presentations of moving images to collect works that variously consider the idea of moving on. What does it feel like, this pressing need to move anew? How do we recognize a legitimate need to change from flights of fancy? How do these kinds of impulses variously manifest, from the day-to-day to the once-in-a-lifetime? Wayne and Garth discover that despite how clear the dream may be before it finds you, there’s no telling how it’s going to play out. To complement their journey, I write about Christian Marclay’s The Clock (2010) and Duane Linklater’s Reservation Dog (2008). Marclay’s 24-hour opus collages innumerable reactions to temporal passing from television and cinematic history, so that The Clock becomes an unspooling of how the urgency to move (or move on) is depicted in the stories we tell. And Linklater, crafting a parable of sorts, lets a rez dog stand in for anyone who has left one way of life for another, drawing out the hilarities and heart breaks of what it means to find your footing elsewhere. Together, these films suggest that the senses of fear and joy that accompany change do not go away once the big, flashy actions have happened. Instead–that fear, that joy–they stick around and demand a continual reshaping. And so, this is life!