Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Five things I've seen so far this year that made me really happy

Listening to: "This Is My House, This Is My Home" by We Were Promised Jetpacks

1. Black Narcissus (1947)



I remember that I was walking through my grandmother's room, and she just happened to be watching this film. I came in during a low-key point in the movie; not alot of "action", per se, was happening. Nonetheless, I was entirely sucked in. The colors and sets were so rich; the interactions between characters so subtle and compelling. It's really not the kind of film that can be acknowledged and dismissed with just a glance at the screen. I'm actually planning a little reflective post on Black Narcissus all by itself - stay tuned!

2. 3-Iron (2004).



This film is, quite simply, a work of art. It's incredibly unusual, unusually haunting, and, incidentally, really quite dark. (I've read some reviews in which viewers commented that they loved the film's light, airy tone...I'm not sure which movie they were watching). Nonetheless, it's absolutely gorgeous. Silence reigns during most of it - of our two protagonists, the heroine speaks a few words close to the end; the hero does not open his mouth once during the course of the entire film.

3. Diva (1982)



I watched it on my mom's recommendation, and boy, am I glad that I did! What an interesting jumble of twists and turns, what a delightfully motley cast of characters; what, what gorgeous music.

4. Once (2006)



Over the past few years, I'd heard so many mediocre reviews of the movie that I more or less decided that I would never bother see it. A friend had given me a copy of the soundtrack, which is incredible - but according to so many people, the film itself falls short in comparison. Hey - I, for one, absolutely loved the movie. I mean, it's obviously not supposed to be super-exciting; its charm lies in its simplicity. I loved the idea of two young songwriters encountering one another, and influencing each other for a short time before going their separate ways.

5. Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)



I just watched this with my little brother the other night. How refreshing it is to see an animated film made using "by hand" animation - as opposed to all of the computer-generated features produced today (not to put those down; I adore Disney/Pixar)! Plus, I thought it was funny as anything. "What the cuss??" :D

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

"Are not all lifelong friendships...

...born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year after year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for? You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it—tantalizing glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest—if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself—you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say "Here at last is the thing I was made for." We cannot tell each other about it. It is the secret signature of each soul, the incommunicable and unappeasable want, the thing we desired before we met our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work. While we are, this is. If we lose this, we lose all." - C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

So, I was just googling this quote - an absolute favorite of mine, by the way - to see what sort of results would come up. One of the first results was an excerpt from some guy's blog. He quoted just the first sentence, and then followed up with 'yeah, man, I just love those kinds of friendships!' (I paraphrase).

I was like DUDE. Lewis is not talking about friendship. He's talking about LONGING!!! And not just ANY longing - THE longing!!!! The one that we all experience, all of our lives - at least, Lewis believed that we did.

Isn't it strange? If this is something so very fundamental, something we all go through, and perpetually, why don't we ever hear about it?? Why haven't our artists been writing, painting, composing, and dancing about this constantly since the beginning of human civilization? Oh, of course little hints of it pop up just about everywhere; but it seems that our culture is just too emotionally prudish to discuss it explicitly, very often. Naturally, there's Lewis - it pervades everything he's ever written. As he details in Surprised by Joy, this inexplicable longing is what both defined his childhood, and ultimately led him to Christianity. There's also the mystics of the Catholic Church, of course. Read John of the Cross's Dark Night of the Soul - enough said. Read Bernard of Clairvaux on the Song of Songs for what it really means when the bride flies through the streets at night, searching for her Beloved. And, strangely enough, the most recent place where I have found an inkling of this is in Kenneth Grahame's The Wind in the Willows – go figure; I'm not sure what the connection is. But here's my point: all of these sources are very few and far between.

Now, I've tried to broach this topic with others many times in the past. I've tried to express my own experiences of this divine longing (like Lewis, this is something I've had since before I can remember. It basically defines my life, my person, and my entire existence.). I always observe my own words fall heartbreakingly flat, but I don't stop trying. Nine times out of ten, what is the response? Shifty eyes and awkward silences. Yeah, I'm sure I deserve it if people think me a little bit insane. But the longer I keep going, the more I realize that maybe I'm not the insane one. Essentially, insanity is a failure to adhere to reality. This longing is very, very real.

This has got to be one of the biggest elephants in the room...in the history of the world. Except it's more than that. I believe that, simply because it is such a difficult subject to discuss, we've given up. And, with the ceasing of our efforts to express it, we've begun to forget it, too.

I believe that our culture is coming very close to "losing all".

Monday, June 14, 2010

It doesn't seem possible, but I guess I really hadn't gone clothes shopping for a long, long time.




Listening to: "For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypisilan" by Sufjan Stevens

My mom and I went to Target on Saturday.

After attaining that for we which had come, we hit the women's clothing section.

It was...oh, how do I describe it? It was magical.

I stumbled from clothes rack to clothes rack, unable to contain my excitement. (Now, in my defense, Target's clothing is really cute. And, sure, I have my list of favorite fashion blogs that I visit several times a week – it's not like I'm unexposed to good fashion. But – well, I guess clothes are kind of like people, you know? Drastically different in person. These clothes were...how shall I say it? Right at my fingertips.)

All of a sudden, I found myself enamored of the majority of the clothing in Target's women's department. Even the maternity wear. And, I mean...well yeah. You get the idea. I felt the urge to purchase (or steal) some 50% of everything I saw. Actually, I felt the urge to eat various items of clothing. It all looked so delicious. Yum, yum.

Imagine me dashing throughout Target, arms flailing, screaming, “OMG empire-waisted sundresses!! OMG long cotton scarves!! OMG gladiator sandals!!”

No, I was not actually doing that; only in my head.

It was like...I was intoxicated. It was kind of like Dickinson's reaction to summer weather...

...Inebriate of rompers am I,
Of leggings, and skinny blue's,
Reeling through endless Target isles
Of Keds, and Converse, too -

No, no no. That is wrong. I can't do that to Emily's #214.

There was this one particularly tasty bright green tank that I was checking out and with which I was a little bit in love. It was made of super soft, worn-looking cotton, and had a few buttons and a breast pocket. Plus, it was a yellow-based green. Oooh, nothing quite turns my turban like a good, yellow-based green. My mom liked the top too, but pointed out that it wouldn't look so good on me...

Mom: The green is too acidic for olive-toned skin. You'd look like someone in a Van Gogh painting.
Me: That would be really cool!!
Mom: Yeah, and also people might start worrying about you cutting your ear off.
Me: ...that would actually be kind of cool, too!!!
Mom: * rolls eyes *
Me: Well, just to * think * about, not to actually * do *, sheesh...

(Yes, this conversation actually transpired between my mother and I).

Well, the time came – all too quickly – for us to leave. I took one last, longing gaze at one particular romper to which I had grown attached, and then tried puppy dog eyes on my mom. Basically, she was like,

“We has no monies. Learn to sew.”

No, really, she said that – just not in lolcat speak. And frankly, I am taking her advice, even though I believe the last thing I have legitimately sewn would have been a 12 by 12 stuffed pillow with an appliqued heart back in the days of 4H Quilting. I am breaking out the sewing machine and hunting down cute clothing patterns online. I am determined.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Song Before Daybreak

From 2008 - enjoy.


You say it’s the ghost-boy’s smiling face you haven’t seen for years?
Well, here are the murmurings of those voices I’ve always wanted to hear.
We’d prick up at other phantoms, drifting beneath the purple skies,
But we’ve been there and back. Tonight, let’s close our eyes.

I’m playing your favorite record, dear; it’s old, and scratched, and worn,
But you may catch the lilies’ scent from before the petals were torn -
The buttery laughter of the child we found up in the tree;
The aching juice of the sun-ripe fruit he tossed to you; to me.

He’s given us this terrible strength, the one that scorns what seems
(I’m no longer afraid to sleep - how good it is to dream)!
When I trust his silence, my spine’s against his palm,
And I feel joy beat wildly beneath this measured calm.

We must not boast, for we both know that this glimmer is weak,
Yet a glimmer it is, and it winds on like a small, silver creek -
And it’s he who’s given this to us - to keep us through the shades,
But for that silver, I’ve come to love the darkling balustrade…

Yet all is as it should be, and all is as he planned;
The final knot will loosen by naught else but his hand,
Fire, wind, water will come, and rack us o’er and o’er,
But we’ll be looking up - we’ll heed nothing, anymore -

And Time - he fights against us, but if we squint just so,
All will burst a-fire before the cock’s last crow:
The blindness will come easier, then; the wondering will be sweet -
And for a breath, we’ll walk through marble halls on golden feet.


Olivia Meldrum 2010