A friend from Louisiana moved to Virginia to attend ODU. We had dinner this week with friends and he said the best thing I've heard all week: In honor of you, Geneviève, I've been waving to the Virginians.
Briefly, the story behind that comment comes from the summer I met him. I was walking with Anya on a random street in Hammond when someone waved at me from across the street. I assumed that person must have mistaken me for someone he knew, but I was suspicious. I decided to wave at a random stranger to see what would happen... and the stranger waved back to me! I was slightly freaked out about these friendly southerners and relayed this to my friend...
It was funny, even heartwarming, that he remembered.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Friday Sabbath: The Miracle of Suspension
So, they tell us that good things come to those who wait. Something about that has always sounded silly to me. I mean, if you wait long enough, things will change and, at least once, it will be for the better. It's even more true in the wait for the birth of a healthy baby...
As some of you know, my best friend is about four days past her due date. We tried making her spicy curry one night and then I tried setting her up with an impressive massage therapist at one of the yoga studios who knows the appropriate pressure points to help encourage the body to labor. Despite our best efforts, this boy seems to have an agenda of his own.
I'm thinking of other times during which we feel we must wait for something. What that process is like... waiting. You probably can hear your dad complaining about lines at the theme park or your mom tapping her foot at the customer service desk at the department store. I know I hear students chewing on their nails as they wait for testing to begin or shallow breaths from a series of teenage boys enduring the half hour of previews before the next Star Wars or Indiana Jones or James Bond movie finally begins. I see worried relatives pretending like they're not anxiously listening for the phone to ring to deliver the news of a cancer patient or someone's surgery.
For some people, this process is agony... I'm sure depending on what it is we're waiting for, we all have a handful of wide-eyed suspension and another handful of indifferent daydreaming experiences. I guess I'm seeing the value in learning how to deal with this process. Is there not something good to be learned from it? Does it not protect us in some ways from how certain news may make us feel?
I don't suppose there's any good method when waiting for truly bad news. I could say we all have a chance to brace ourselves for the inevitable, but nothing takes away from the sting of knowing something harmful or sad has entered your world. Of course, I'm still thinking of Mister John... it's not like I didn't have warning that a sort of countdown was happening, but nothing could get me "used to the idea" that he'd ever really be gone. If you have some words of wisdom on the matter, do share, because this is the one time when waiting is pure hell to me and I can't help anyone, not even myself, make sense of how to survive it.
On the other hand, there's the obvious fun in waiting for good things. Some might think there's another kind of agony in waiting for a party or the holidays or a vacation... what is it, after all, that we all say? "I just can't wait til..." Doesn't that sound familiar? I know I've said it about movies, books, special events, etc... Obviously, we use it for unpleasant things, too, like "I just can't wait til those damn neighbors move out." I find that petty annoyances and forward-looking thoughts about birthdays are mostly the easiest things to wait out. They don't take away from you being content or excited... you can still have a good day before the party and you can still have a nice time reading before your loud neighbors get home from dinner.
There are plenty of other "waits" somewhere in between devastating and unobtrusive. I'm considering the wait for test scores... like the bar exam or even other college tests. There's usually some period of time during which one must wait to hear how it all turned out. I think this is just as healthy as it is unavoidable (that's a lot of tests to grade and it's only fair that everyone find out at the same time). It gives the test-taker some time to distance one's self from the severe amount of exertion he or she just spewed on a Scantron sheet. That way, no matter how you did, you've had some time to think over some of your responses... in my experience, I usually knew approximately how I performed on an exam before I received the actual score. I find the less flattering scores easier to bare when I've had the time to mull the matter over in my mind and recharge my batteries.
There's the kind of waiting that forces you to get creative... like wanting to go to the beach during an unusual two-week long stint of rain. Sure, you could just sit by the window and cry, or you could think of something else to do. My folks and I had marvelous fun after Hurricane Isabelle. The power was out, so, no one could watch TV or play video games the way they normally would, so, we entertained ourselves in other ways. We played board games, we talked, I read some stories aloud, and, best of all, Mom taped our hands, sticky part facing out, so we could "vacuum" up from the floor our gorgeous, long-haired black dog's fur.
My current favorite among waiting moments is between yoga poses. When one practices, there's a period of time when you're simply waiting to be released from a pose. So, as you wait, you deepen, you breathe, you go even deeper into yourself and the possibilities for meditation. It is during this portion of the routine that you actually get better, that you improve the most in your strength, flexibility, and sense of peace.
That reminds me of how we were taught to chant "Om"... there's this three-part breathing method connected to mental imagery. The best part is what happens between breaths. The Indian chanters focus on that state of "breathlessness" between an exhale and the following inhalation. It's a brief wait, but it's acknowledged as precious and representative of our need to stop, slow down, not work for a moment...
...and the relief once it's all over with... that makes it, (here's another phrase we use), "well worth the wait."
So, the process is up to us. We can go the Grey's Anatomy way and beat ourselves with a hammer until we finally choose to stop (that is relieving after all, but how brutal!). Otherwise, we can find ways to find peace, to get some perspective, to cushion our fall for when the waiting is finally done.
Anya has elected to have an impressive attitude about the wait for her second child. While the first day after the due date was disappointing (those stupid birth books get you ready so far in advance that it's easy to see the due date as a countdown rather than an approximation), she has perked up a bit. She's tired, but she's also content to spend this special time she has left with her son until he is ready to come into the world. And that's going to be such a happy relief.
As some of you know, my best friend is about four days past her due date. We tried making her spicy curry one night and then I tried setting her up with an impressive massage therapist at one of the yoga studios who knows the appropriate pressure points to help encourage the body to labor. Despite our best efforts, this boy seems to have an agenda of his own.
I'm thinking of other times during which we feel we must wait for something. What that process is like... waiting. You probably can hear your dad complaining about lines at the theme park or your mom tapping her foot at the customer service desk at the department store. I know I hear students chewing on their nails as they wait for testing to begin or shallow breaths from a series of teenage boys enduring the half hour of previews before the next Star Wars or Indiana Jones or James Bond movie finally begins. I see worried relatives pretending like they're not anxiously listening for the phone to ring to deliver the news of a cancer patient or someone's surgery.
For some people, this process is agony... I'm sure depending on what it is we're waiting for, we all have a handful of wide-eyed suspension and another handful of indifferent daydreaming experiences. I guess I'm seeing the value in learning how to deal with this process. Is there not something good to be learned from it? Does it not protect us in some ways from how certain news may make us feel?
I don't suppose there's any good method when waiting for truly bad news. I could say we all have a chance to brace ourselves for the inevitable, but nothing takes away from the sting of knowing something harmful or sad has entered your world. Of course, I'm still thinking of Mister John... it's not like I didn't have warning that a sort of countdown was happening, but nothing could get me "used to the idea" that he'd ever really be gone. If you have some words of wisdom on the matter, do share, because this is the one time when waiting is pure hell to me and I can't help anyone, not even myself, make sense of how to survive it.
On the other hand, there's the obvious fun in waiting for good things. Some might think there's another kind of agony in waiting for a party or the holidays or a vacation... what is it, after all, that we all say? "I just can't wait til..." Doesn't that sound familiar? I know I've said it about movies, books, special events, etc... Obviously, we use it for unpleasant things, too, like "I just can't wait til those damn neighbors move out." I find that petty annoyances and forward-looking thoughts about birthdays are mostly the easiest things to wait out. They don't take away from you being content or excited... you can still have a good day before the party and you can still have a nice time reading before your loud neighbors get home from dinner.
There are plenty of other "waits" somewhere in between devastating and unobtrusive. I'm considering the wait for test scores... like the bar exam or even other college tests. There's usually some period of time during which one must wait to hear how it all turned out. I think this is just as healthy as it is unavoidable (that's a lot of tests to grade and it's only fair that everyone find out at the same time). It gives the test-taker some time to distance one's self from the severe amount of exertion he or she just spewed on a Scantron sheet. That way, no matter how you did, you've had some time to think over some of your responses... in my experience, I usually knew approximately how I performed on an exam before I received the actual score. I find the less flattering scores easier to bare when I've had the time to mull the matter over in my mind and recharge my batteries.
There's the kind of waiting that forces you to get creative... like wanting to go to the beach during an unusual two-week long stint of rain. Sure, you could just sit by the window and cry, or you could think of something else to do. My folks and I had marvelous fun after Hurricane Isabelle. The power was out, so, no one could watch TV or play video games the way they normally would, so, we entertained ourselves in other ways. We played board games, we talked, I read some stories aloud, and, best of all, Mom taped our hands, sticky part facing out, so we could "vacuum" up from the floor our gorgeous, long-haired black dog's fur.
My current favorite among waiting moments is between yoga poses. When one practices, there's a period of time when you're simply waiting to be released from a pose. So, as you wait, you deepen, you breathe, you go even deeper into yourself and the possibilities for meditation. It is during this portion of the routine that you actually get better, that you improve the most in your strength, flexibility, and sense of peace.
That reminds me of how we were taught to chant "Om"... there's this three-part breathing method connected to mental imagery. The best part is what happens between breaths. The Indian chanters focus on that state of "breathlessness" between an exhale and the following inhalation. It's a brief wait, but it's acknowledged as precious and representative of our need to stop, slow down, not work for a moment...
...and the relief once it's all over with... that makes it, (here's another phrase we use), "well worth the wait."
So, the process is up to us. We can go the Grey's Anatomy way and beat ourselves with a hammer until we finally choose to stop (that is relieving after all, but how brutal!). Otherwise, we can find ways to find peace, to get some perspective, to cushion our fall for when the waiting is finally done.
Anya has elected to have an impressive attitude about the wait for her second child. While the first day after the due date was disappointing (those stupid birth books get you ready so far in advance that it's easy to see the due date as a countdown rather than an approximation), she has perked up a bit. She's tired, but she's also content to spend this special time she has left with her son until he is ready to come into the world. And that's going to be such a happy relief.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Thursday Kitchen: Bringing back the dinner gong
I had a small serving of dinner around 5:30pm this evening. I looked at the clock afterward: 5:58pm. Something about that hour and number of minutes instantly brought me back to my Mom's living room, when the carpet was still that ugly 70s green... I guess I'd be about 5 or 6 years old. I can remember seeing the hour after dinner and thinking that I had three hours before bedtime to do what I wanted to do... be it reading my book, or playing my records, or watching Brain Games on the once wholesome HBO channel.
My mother served dinner rather promptly when I was small. I'm pretty sure 5 or 5:30 was her regular goal and she regularly succeeded. I found that comforting after weekends with my biological father during which there was no telling when you would eat or what it would be. I still have nightmares about my step-grandfather, during a time when my father's family lived with his in-laws. He would cook this gd-awful chili. I'm willing to believe that had he not dropped cigarette ashes into the mix from the dirty white stick always dangling from his lips that the chili still would have been disgusting.
Still, I can't remember the last time I had dinner at 5:30pm. I'm sure Mom had us eat that early because lunchtime during elementary school and middle school was at some ridiculous hour like 11am or 11:30am. Nowadays, we're not thinking so much about the time between meals. College sort of ruins you for a while, I suppose. You eat when you have time or after you've studied so much that if you don't stop, you'll fall over and your eyes will pop out of your head. Perhaps that doesn't level back out to a regular schedule until you have someone else to take care of... a family of your own.
I've gotten quite used to trying to eat around 7 or 8. That's a routine, too, were it not for the occasional 9 or 10pm meal after a long day or when I haven't planned out what I'm making in time for a 7pm meal. For grown people who stay up until midnight most nights, this is a reasonable arrangement. Then again, my French friends ate around 7pm... I suppose that just wound down the day so that the children knew it was time for bed right after they finished eating. That way, between the protests, the putting away of dishes, and getting on PJs and brushing teeth, they were in bed by 9pm.
There's just so much comfort in a mealtime. We associate each meal with a time of day as it is... breakfast is before 11am, lunch is between 12 and 2, and dinner is between 5 and 7. I remember a storyteller at the festival here in Williamsburg explaining the "proper" names for meals. She informed us that in her day it was breakfast, dinner, and supper. In other parts of the world, we're missing an entire mealtime, such as the English high tea between 2:30 and 4:30. For those who work during the day, we look forward to a certain time on the clock. It's for food that corporate America permits you to slow down and recharge your batteries. In parts of Spain and Italy, people work from 7 or 8am until noon. Then they have lunch and a nap (Can you imagine? Someone in the world realizes that naptime is wasted on kindergarteners...). The whole town shuts down for people to go home, eat, and have a "siesta". Things open back up between 4 and 8pm before people go out into the night and eat their dinners from 9-11pm.
When it's a routine thing, like in my mother's home growing up, mealtimes were the moments to which one could look anxiously forward. They were assigned moments during which we could take a rest, catch up with the family or friends in the cafeteria, and replenish ourselves after a long night's rest, a morning's worth of work, and a long, hard day.
There's the concept of comfort food, too. Foods that make people feel cozy, warm, and happy. These are often foods from our childhood... foods our mothers would prepare to make us feel better when we had a cold, or a bad day at school, etc. In my case, I liked hot noodle soup for illnesses and nachos on the evenings Mom let me stay up late and watch movies with her and Daddy. These were special moments designed to make me feel content and to remind me that I am loved.
Thinking back to the storytellers again, I remember one in particular that reminds me of when I met one of my closest friends. Jay O'Callahan relays a story during WWII in Nova Scotia when the women were left behind to pick up the work that the brothers and fathers had once performed. Naturally, there were some very sad deaths in the story. However, in this society, it was a regular custom for the people in the town to come to the home of the family of the deceased. Everyone brought food for the greivers so they needn't occupy themselves with the task of preparing meals on such a dark day. It's a simple expression of love and humanity to share food, share a meal, with people who could use a hand.
Nowadays, I've tried to organize my friends to make a few meals for our gals who have had kids recently. This is a joyous occasion for a new family and it simply takes a few normal chores off their list as they revel in the new member of the family... what makes this new person smile or sleep, how and when he or she wishes to nurse, or introducing the new person to friends and family. Meanwhile, there can be a few cooked meals in the fridge or soups in the freezer so that all the family needs to do is warm it up and then go about their new lives. It's an act of compassion and love and excitement for the new boy or girl in our world.
As we get older, mealtimes are the great excuses for getting together no matter how busy we get. We all have to eat, so, once in a while, we get together. Everyone contributes or the person with the most time invites some pals over for homemade pizza in summer or a great big bowl of winter soup as the holidays approach. It's how we catch up with the busy student, the uncle visiting on business, the friend who has one night to leave his/her brood with the in-laws to spend a bit of time with you. And if it can't be a meal, sometimes we're willing to stop at the end of the day, when the brain just can't compute any longer, and have coffee and dessert with the family or your close friends you hardly see anymore.
I'm glad it's August... because more of these excuses are just around the corner. My family's family reunion is coming up in September, then the High Holy Days will be upon us, then my birthday, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years'... so many meals to look forward to... because that's when I'll have another chance, a specific time when the gong will ring, to sit down and be with you.
My mother served dinner rather promptly when I was small. I'm pretty sure 5 or 5:30 was her regular goal and she regularly succeeded. I found that comforting after weekends with my biological father during which there was no telling when you would eat or what it would be. I still have nightmares about my step-grandfather, during a time when my father's family lived with his in-laws. He would cook this gd-awful chili. I'm willing to believe that had he not dropped cigarette ashes into the mix from the dirty white stick always dangling from his lips that the chili still would have been disgusting.
Still, I can't remember the last time I had dinner at 5:30pm. I'm sure Mom had us eat that early because lunchtime during elementary school and middle school was at some ridiculous hour like 11am or 11:30am. Nowadays, we're not thinking so much about the time between meals. College sort of ruins you for a while, I suppose. You eat when you have time or after you've studied so much that if you don't stop, you'll fall over and your eyes will pop out of your head. Perhaps that doesn't level back out to a regular schedule until you have someone else to take care of... a family of your own.
I've gotten quite used to trying to eat around 7 or 8. That's a routine, too, were it not for the occasional 9 or 10pm meal after a long day or when I haven't planned out what I'm making in time for a 7pm meal. For grown people who stay up until midnight most nights, this is a reasonable arrangement. Then again, my French friends ate around 7pm... I suppose that just wound down the day so that the children knew it was time for bed right after they finished eating. That way, between the protests, the putting away of dishes, and getting on PJs and brushing teeth, they were in bed by 9pm.
There's just so much comfort in a mealtime. We associate each meal with a time of day as it is... breakfast is before 11am, lunch is between 12 and 2, and dinner is between 5 and 7. I remember a storyteller at the festival here in Williamsburg explaining the "proper" names for meals. She informed us that in her day it was breakfast, dinner, and supper. In other parts of the world, we're missing an entire mealtime, such as the English high tea between 2:30 and 4:30. For those who work during the day, we look forward to a certain time on the clock. It's for food that corporate America permits you to slow down and recharge your batteries. In parts of Spain and Italy, people work from 7 or 8am until noon. Then they have lunch and a nap (Can you imagine? Someone in the world realizes that naptime is wasted on kindergarteners...). The whole town shuts down for people to go home, eat, and have a "siesta". Things open back up between 4 and 8pm before people go out into the night and eat their dinners from 9-11pm.
When it's a routine thing, like in my mother's home growing up, mealtimes were the moments to which one could look anxiously forward. They were assigned moments during which we could take a rest, catch up with the family or friends in the cafeteria, and replenish ourselves after a long night's rest, a morning's worth of work, and a long, hard day.
There's the concept of comfort food, too. Foods that make people feel cozy, warm, and happy. These are often foods from our childhood... foods our mothers would prepare to make us feel better when we had a cold, or a bad day at school, etc. In my case, I liked hot noodle soup for illnesses and nachos on the evenings Mom let me stay up late and watch movies with her and Daddy. These were special moments designed to make me feel content and to remind me that I am loved.
Thinking back to the storytellers again, I remember one in particular that reminds me of when I met one of my closest friends. Jay O'Callahan relays a story during WWII in Nova Scotia when the women were left behind to pick up the work that the brothers and fathers had once performed. Naturally, there were some very sad deaths in the story. However, in this society, it was a regular custom for the people in the town to come to the home of the family of the deceased. Everyone brought food for the greivers so they needn't occupy themselves with the task of preparing meals on such a dark day. It's a simple expression of love and humanity to share food, share a meal, with people who could use a hand.
Nowadays, I've tried to organize my friends to make a few meals for our gals who have had kids recently. This is a joyous occasion for a new family and it simply takes a few normal chores off their list as they revel in the new member of the family... what makes this new person smile or sleep, how and when he or she wishes to nurse, or introducing the new person to friends and family. Meanwhile, there can be a few cooked meals in the fridge or soups in the freezer so that all the family needs to do is warm it up and then go about their new lives. It's an act of compassion and love and excitement for the new boy or girl in our world.
As we get older, mealtimes are the great excuses for getting together no matter how busy we get. We all have to eat, so, once in a while, we get together. Everyone contributes or the person with the most time invites some pals over for homemade pizza in summer or a great big bowl of winter soup as the holidays approach. It's how we catch up with the busy student, the uncle visiting on business, the friend who has one night to leave his/her brood with the in-laws to spend a bit of time with you. And if it can't be a meal, sometimes we're willing to stop at the end of the day, when the brain just can't compute any longer, and have coffee and dessert with the family or your close friends you hardly see anymore.
I'm glad it's August... because more of these excuses are just around the corner. My family's family reunion is coming up in September, then the High Holy Days will be upon us, then my birthday, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years'... so many meals to look forward to... because that's when I'll have another chance, a specific time when the gong will ring, to sit down and be with you.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Wednesday Valuables: I'm sorry, but our time is up.
I've been in a handful of conversations this week that concerned some lost friendships/relationships... people that inevitably moved us in our lives but at some point cannot be permitted to or tolerated to stay there. I hope we all hold what they contributed closer to our hearts and then let them go without dwelling on why they had to leave.
I can think of two examples off the top of my head for tonight...
First, we'll call her Janice. I met her in high school in my freshman English class. She was spirited but respectful and full of the most delightful unobtainable dreams. Much less experienced with boys than I (yes, even at that point) she would write me hopeful letters, dreams, poems, and short stories about her fantasy guy...
...who's not like any guy I've encountered... not in reality. This guy is a paradox. He's strong, independent, chivalrous, and romantic, but he refuses to open the door or pay for you. I don't know... it just doesn't jive for me. I watched her date three guys who all had a polite, considerate streak in them... so, naturally, when aspects of that characteristic were applauded while their attempts to get the door for her or pay for their date were scorned, they were a bit confused.
One guy seemed to try his hardest to go along with her bizarre agenda... she wanted someone to dote on her, but not admit it? I couldn't figure out how he did it. I was pretty impressed with him actually, and that happens rarely. I'm pretty protective of my gal pals and if you don't fit the bill, I'm not shy to point it out. However, this guy was kind and found a way to give Janice her space wherever she needed to feel like She-Ra or something. They eventually decided to get married and I was not at all concerned for her.
I guess I should have been more concerned for him.
She reminds me of those women that grew up with the idea that you need to find love from a man in your life to fulfill your dreams until she saw that awful piece of crap Ever After on cable no doubt. This film has really screwed up a generation of young women... that you have to be able to do everything and then find a man who's willing to do it for you but not let him. Janice must have been surprised when her husband remained accommodating and she eventually turned to the internet to find someone more exciting than he was... I call this Madame Bovary syndrome when you ignore the sweet person who treats you halfway decently to pursue the minimum wage moron who knows more about "the ways of the world" than your attentive husband who's willing to learn (which is half the battle... that precious willingness).
I know that all sounds very judgmental. It might sound less so if her letters weren't plastered with her problems. I'd address each one with great care and concern, and then she'd deny them in her next response while doing whatever ignoble and irresponsible thing she wanted to do.
Despite this, for a period of time, she was like the sister I never had... for a brief period of time, we shared all our horrid little fantasies without recrimination and had someone to whom we weren't ashamed to say, "I love you," "I miss you," "I could never find someone as wonderful as you," etc. We were able to express so much love in our letters to each other during that brief time when we were on the same page. She was there through a few of my more terrible experiences and always found a way to lift me out of the ditch...
...which is where I find my second example. I'll call him Jim. I felt so sorry for him when I met him... he had had a truly frightful upbringing. He was abandoned at an early age in the home of another relative while observing from a close distance his parents' raising a whole different family after him (he has one brother and one sister). No one ever discussed this arrangement. He was physically and emotionally abused at home and had plenty of trust issues and complexes to go around. Feeling brave or really stupid, I guess, I decided to devote about 7 months of my young adult life to him.
I won't go into detail. Abstracts are easier... even now, I prefer not to remember it all because it was highly unpleasant. We fought every day... I mean every damn day. Once I was folding clothes when he got up to use the restroom during a movie we were watching. When he returned we yelled for about two hours because he felt I was belittling the significance of this film to him by folding laundry. Another time we argued for a few hours because I confessed that I didn't believe in hell (he's a Baptist... enough said?). The real scary one was when I brought him flowers to work, and when I spun in his office swivel chair after work hours, he yelled at me, I walked away, got in my car, and he chased me in his car all over Newport News to finally corner me and continue the argument I had tried to stop by walking away. The only day we didn't fight was on my birthday... guess that was his gift to me. I would have wanted something else... maybe for somethings that passed between us to have never happened...
We eventually broke up (I'm not completely bent) but then I befriended him on his birthday the year after. We remained friends for a few years (secretly... my mother had some reasons to hate him and would not have been happy to learn that bit of information at the time) and I talked him through many relationship blunders and issues with his folks. Finally, he violated my trust one night when I was vulnerable and feeling that I had lost a great potential love, and I haven't really spoken to him since. In his defense (I feel no burden defending him... he is a damaged person and I refuse to judge him... if you knew what I knew...) he did try to apologize. He left me a long message on my voice mail...
But this is my point. Not everyone needs to be a part of your life long-term. I felt useful to him and was able to sort of "take care" of someone during a time when I could barely take care of myself physically (my brain worked while my body felt broken). He brought me to such a low, quiet, unrecognizable version of myself that I learned where my limits were... that sounds dumb, maybe, but I'm one of those "see it; then believe it" kind of learners. I was reduced to a fraction of all that I truly was once he emerged into the picture and, in that demonstration, he gave me the keys to set myself free and to never let anyone bring me down so low again.
Not all the people in your life that need to go are this destructive... I doubt there's a precise formula. I guess the important thing is to think of how to act out of love. Really, in every situation, if you act out of love for all involved, then you'll find the best thing to do. Maybe I am someone's Jim and need to give him/her space to heal and leave me in the past with other hard lessons. Maybe I'm someone's unimpressive Janice and need to not only free that person to their preferred lifestyle rather than hold them back in my uglier phases, I can now move on without feeling held to the rules and regulations of their world and express myself as I am happiest with people willing to accept me. And aside from the extreme Janices and Jims of creation, there are plenty of people who simply need to go down a different path... a path I cannot follow or would want to follow with or without them in my life.
But I am grateful for the lessons, the love, the time spent to make me more who I am now.
To all my dearly dismissed, I thank you, most sincerely, from the middle of my heart.
I can think of two examples off the top of my head for tonight...
First, we'll call her Janice. I met her in high school in my freshman English class. She was spirited but respectful and full of the most delightful unobtainable dreams. Much less experienced with boys than I (yes, even at that point) she would write me hopeful letters, dreams, poems, and short stories about her fantasy guy...
...who's not like any guy I've encountered... not in reality. This guy is a paradox. He's strong, independent, chivalrous, and romantic, but he refuses to open the door or pay for you. I don't know... it just doesn't jive for me. I watched her date three guys who all had a polite, considerate streak in them... so, naturally, when aspects of that characteristic were applauded while their attempts to get the door for her or pay for their date were scorned, they were a bit confused.
One guy seemed to try his hardest to go along with her bizarre agenda... she wanted someone to dote on her, but not admit it? I couldn't figure out how he did it. I was pretty impressed with him actually, and that happens rarely. I'm pretty protective of my gal pals and if you don't fit the bill, I'm not shy to point it out. However, this guy was kind and found a way to give Janice her space wherever she needed to feel like She-Ra or something. They eventually decided to get married and I was not at all concerned for her.
I guess I should have been more concerned for him.
She reminds me of those women that grew up with the idea that you need to find love from a man in your life to fulfill your dreams until she saw that awful piece of crap Ever After on cable no doubt. This film has really screwed up a generation of young women... that you have to be able to do everything and then find a man who's willing to do it for you but not let him. Janice must have been surprised when her husband remained accommodating and she eventually turned to the internet to find someone more exciting than he was... I call this Madame Bovary syndrome when you ignore the sweet person who treats you halfway decently to pursue the minimum wage moron who knows more about "the ways of the world" than your attentive husband who's willing to learn (which is half the battle... that precious willingness).
I know that all sounds very judgmental. It might sound less so if her letters weren't plastered with her problems. I'd address each one with great care and concern, and then she'd deny them in her next response while doing whatever ignoble and irresponsible thing she wanted to do.
Despite this, for a period of time, she was like the sister I never had... for a brief period of time, we shared all our horrid little fantasies without recrimination and had someone to whom we weren't ashamed to say, "I love you," "I miss you," "I could never find someone as wonderful as you," etc. We were able to express so much love in our letters to each other during that brief time when we were on the same page. She was there through a few of my more terrible experiences and always found a way to lift me out of the ditch...
...which is where I find my second example. I'll call him Jim. I felt so sorry for him when I met him... he had had a truly frightful upbringing. He was abandoned at an early age in the home of another relative while observing from a close distance his parents' raising a whole different family after him (he has one brother and one sister). No one ever discussed this arrangement. He was physically and emotionally abused at home and had plenty of trust issues and complexes to go around. Feeling brave or really stupid, I guess, I decided to devote about 7 months of my young adult life to him.
I won't go into detail. Abstracts are easier... even now, I prefer not to remember it all because it was highly unpleasant. We fought every day... I mean every damn day. Once I was folding clothes when he got up to use the restroom during a movie we were watching. When he returned we yelled for about two hours because he felt I was belittling the significance of this film to him by folding laundry. Another time we argued for a few hours because I confessed that I didn't believe in hell (he's a Baptist... enough said?). The real scary one was when I brought him flowers to work, and when I spun in his office swivel chair after work hours, he yelled at me, I walked away, got in my car, and he chased me in his car all over Newport News to finally corner me and continue the argument I had tried to stop by walking away. The only day we didn't fight was on my birthday... guess that was his gift to me. I would have wanted something else... maybe for somethings that passed between us to have never happened...
We eventually broke up (I'm not completely bent) but then I befriended him on his birthday the year after. We remained friends for a few years (secretly... my mother had some reasons to hate him and would not have been happy to learn that bit of information at the time) and I talked him through many relationship blunders and issues with his folks. Finally, he violated my trust one night when I was vulnerable and feeling that I had lost a great potential love, and I haven't really spoken to him since. In his defense (I feel no burden defending him... he is a damaged person and I refuse to judge him... if you knew what I knew...) he did try to apologize. He left me a long message on my voice mail...
But this is my point. Not everyone needs to be a part of your life long-term. I felt useful to him and was able to sort of "take care" of someone during a time when I could barely take care of myself physically (my brain worked while my body felt broken). He brought me to such a low, quiet, unrecognizable version of myself that I learned where my limits were... that sounds dumb, maybe, but I'm one of those "see it; then believe it" kind of learners. I was reduced to a fraction of all that I truly was once he emerged into the picture and, in that demonstration, he gave me the keys to set myself free and to never let anyone bring me down so low again.
Not all the people in your life that need to go are this destructive... I doubt there's a precise formula. I guess the important thing is to think of how to act out of love. Really, in every situation, if you act out of love for all involved, then you'll find the best thing to do. Maybe I am someone's Jim and need to give him/her space to heal and leave me in the past with other hard lessons. Maybe I'm someone's unimpressive Janice and need to not only free that person to their preferred lifestyle rather than hold them back in my uglier phases, I can now move on without feeling held to the rules and regulations of their world and express myself as I am happiest with people willing to accept me. And aside from the extreme Janices and Jims of creation, there are plenty of people who simply need to go down a different path... a path I cannot follow or would want to follow with or without them in my life.
But I am grateful for the lessons, the love, the time spent to make me more who I am now.
To all my dearly dismissed, I thank you, most sincerely, from the middle of my heart.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Tuesday Hobbies: When plastic trods the boards...
I'm thinking of simpler times with my folks at home today. We were all introverted homebodies, so we spent a handful of nights together "bonding." We didn't talk about what mattered to us necessarily (well, I did, but, I'm the talkative one in the group) but we would watch movies together or Monk on Fridays. And, every once in a while, we'd pull out a board game.
This is something I hardly do anymore. I remember when my brothers were younger, we'd play that Trivial Pursuit game that's themed after HARRY POTTER. I think John had a tendency to beat us... as he still does in the evolution of the video game board game (Mario Party... John always wins). The whole family played LIFE now and again... I think there was a Star Wars themed game somewhere in the mix... We weren't too fond of Monopoly. I remember playing CANDY LAND with Mom before my brothers were born... and as those who belong to this group understand, I was one of those kids who played Hungry, Hungry Hippo by myself.
(from www.productwiki.com)
My aunts and my mother get together with me once in a while to play Canasta. We always partner the same way... Me with Jeanette, Mom with Judy (every time we've tried to cut the cards for partners, it always comes out the same way). My mother is quite the card shark (like her mother) and ruthlessly blocks our chances of winning. Jeanette and I have won maybe three times in the three or four years we've been playing together. I'm not concerned with winning though... I mostly sit there and listen to them complain about school (they are, all of them, elementary school teachers) or I hear stories of their childhood. They're still arguing on who started what (but certainly not who got the blame for whatever happened) or what so-and-so said about whatever... It's actually pretty entertaining. You'd think they had just moved out of their parents' house yesterday.
(from www.giftbee.com)
My Wednesday Night girls and I will play a game occasionally. We used to play Apples to Apples a bit (but I won most of the time... I think they got bored with it... don't mess with ME and the glorious art of WORD PLAY... Muhahahaha!!). I think once we played CRANIUM with a small group of people. Our latest favorite is a little clear card game called Gloom. For a Tim Burton fan like me, this is fantastic, dark humor. You have five character cards that make up a family. You draw other cards and develop a story surrounding the events that bring each member of the family to his or her demise. Each event card takes away points (you want to be as far in the negative values as possible) and the way you win is to have as many miserable dead people as possible. Once a whole family has been wiped out, the values for your dead are calculated and the lowest amount of points wins. I think I won last time, but, I can tell you now that Jo and Caro are far better at creating the details to how someone was "mauled by manatees" or "chastised by the clergy."
(from www.fairplaygames.com)
I'm not sure why I don't play games more often... and I mean nice, sturdy, board games... not computer chess or Spider Solitaire. I had some great educational table puzzles as a youngster... and I think some of those skills could still use some honing. Memory, Pictionary, Word Up, etc... things that ask us to think quickly, to be tricky, to polish your ability to memorize details in seconds, etc. Now we succumb to glaring at computer screens and Tweeting or Chatting or what have you rather than interacting with friends and family on a personal, real level and challenging one another.
I think we'll have to play our newest board game soon... WORST CASE SCENARIO... any takers?
This is something I hardly do anymore. I remember when my brothers were younger, we'd play that Trivial Pursuit game that's themed after HARRY POTTER. I think John had a tendency to beat us... as he still does in the evolution of the video game board game (Mario Party... John always wins). The whole family played LIFE now and again... I think there was a Star Wars themed game somewhere in the mix... We weren't too fond of Monopoly. I remember playing CANDY LAND with Mom before my brothers were born... and as those who belong to this group understand, I was one of those kids who played Hungry, Hungry Hippo by myself.
(from www.productwiki.com)(from www.giftbee.com)(from www.fairplaygames.com)I think we'll have to play our newest board game soon... WORST CASE SCENARIO... any takers?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Monday Review: A weekend of wonders
I'm going to do things a little differently today. I had a rare weekend during which I was able to see a number of interesting things and read a little. I don't want to choose between them, so I'm going to write 1-2 paragraphs on each of the selected experiences:
1. Star Trek the movie
It was not my idea to go see this... but I'll admit that it's one of the better films I've seen this summer. It's pretty silly, but so was the old TV show. The original Star Trek on television, starring the now buffoonish William Shatner and the still stunning Leonard Nimoy, had its funny problems. What I've picked on the most is the unnecessary obstacles on the ship and the whole "Lookie! Lookie! We got CG galore!" thing. There is a long winding tube of water on the ship that moves towards a slicing device. Scottie is accidentally transported into this water system and Kirk has an amusing race with the water pressure to get Scottie out. I just don't see this happening on a ship in the future or otherwise. Not that there wouldn't be a disposal system of waterworks, but does it need to wind around for a mile?! It makes no sense... it's just there to create the silliness of the scene. Even the enemy ship has its issues... it's designed such that if you need to get from one side to the other, you have to cross this narrow cat walk that straddles a height that would bring any misstep of the pedestrian to his/her death. Good for a tense scene, but, really? Would anyone actually design a ship to be so hazardous (no railings or anything to protect you from falling)? And the CG is dizzying... just because you CAN turn the audience in twelves different directions in 2 seconds doesn't mean that you should! I was see-sick from seeing too much not five minutes into the film. My only other complaint is the weird gremlin buddy that Scottie seems to have befriended... I hope it's a reference to the old show that I've forgotten, because the silly gremlin was just unnecessary in a very Jar-Jar Binks sort of way.
Still, the TV show had many nonsense elements like this, so, it's still an appropriate tribute to Gene Roddenberry's original work. There was a decent amount of "re-inventing" the quippy art of "one-liners." The majority of the great one-liners were delivered by Kirk (of course) or Spock. I've blogged about one already, but, Spock does a nice job making "Live Long and Prosper" to a prejudiced council of Vulcans rather like an insult (never heard it sound this way... it was good, unexpected, angst-y fun). I also liked the exchanges between Kirk and his crew (mostly Spock, but also Bones and Scottie)... quick, smart-aleck, boy-ish entertainment. They picked a great group of people, too, to play the younger versions of the original actors. They matched up looks well enough, but each actor, I think, carried off each part believably. I have no complaints about the acting. I'm quite a fan of their choice for Spock and Bones and I've been a fan of the actor playing Uhura for a handful of years. The only other thing I could say was that they bridged the technology pretty well... all the fancy stuff existed in the future ships rather than those in the time of young Enterprise. The outfits are mostly the same... very new car smell to justify all the shininess.
2. The Muscarelle Museum
The way to experience this museum is to "take a tour" with the docent... I say "take a tour" because we're talking about maybe 20 paintings max and maybe 5 sculptures. If you want to see things as big in the art history books as The Mona Lisa or Starry Night, this is not the museum for you. If you're curious about less well known pieces, the minor works or rough drafts from a handful of great American artists, then the tour should interest you. The docent gives you an hour history lesson on the paintings, their backgrounds, how the paintings came to be in the Muscarelle collection, etc. Our guide was... well, if you take her tour, you'll know what I mean when I describe her as "obscenely polite" (let's just say I would have been very agitated with the ignorant tourists that wandered in and allowed their kids to run around and yell... she simply invited them to tour with us and let them walk themselves out... she's kind of my hero... to make people so uncomfortable by being SO proper).
The only piece you'd recognize, most likely (save maybe the Titian piece and the knock-off of the original Washington portrait), is the O'Keefe painting entitled White Flower. It's much more striking in person... the white is almost translucent like you could see through the petals. The painting used to hang in one of the pointless buildings on campus like a dorm or the business building exposed to weather and students running into it. Part of why the Muscarelle came to be 26 years ago was to protect this particular gem of the College's collection. Other obscure paintings were discovered here and there on campus (like the President's broom closet) encouraging the building project. They don't have much, but what they do have is now protected. If you like learning things you can't find in a text book or very easily online, I'd recommend this museum. It's eclectic collection (at the moment) includes Titian, some Impressionists, three of the 8 commencing Ash-Can artists (two of my favorite paintings fall in this category), two artworks from the Hudson River school, and a handful of scary "This is just a sheet of gray and lavender paint" Modernists.
3. The Coraline DVD
Anyone who knows me knows I adore Neil Gaiman (and all things creepy crawly) and that I'm a big fan of his works for children. He is the modern-day Grimm Brothers with a lesson you're not soon to forget. The film adaptation of his book CORALINE is actually quite good. I'm a stickler about adaptation... I like a film to get creative with the material without destroying the spirit of the original text. Briefly, an example of two adaptations of one written work:, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: The filmmakers were going to have to elaborate a little because the book is just so short that it wouldn't make for a decent film-length feature on its own (big print, double spaced, pictures, 176 pages). The Gene Wilder version (he is still my favorite Willie Wonka) went a little far with the Oompa Loompas and the dismissal of the demise of the other children, but its elaboration works the best... a planted candy making competitor tests the loyalty of the children to help Mr. Wonka choose a suitable successor for his factory. Simple, and appropriate. In the Johnny Depp version, the whole Dad dentist thing and Daddy-issues just... I think it takes away from the silliness and childlike joy of the original work. However, they did other elements marvelously (the texts for the Oompa Loompa songs are direct from the book and we get to see the outcome of the losing, naughty kids).
Anyway, Coraline does have a slightly pointless helper character (Whybie, the average boy neighbor kid), but he's not so far out there that I get angry (not a Jar-Jar Binks type). Everything else is so well done. Even where they take some creative liberties, it maintains the source text's integrity. Of course, the book is better, but the movie is pretty good.
I recently bought the DVD that comes with the glasses so you can see the 3D at home. It's a little weird for the eyes... you need to make the room as dark as possible to catch the color... but you won't catch it all. No matter how I looked at it, the color is richer in the 2D version of the movie. Don't get me wrong- the 3D in your own home this is cool and even slightly more dramatic on a smaller screen, but I'd trade it for some special features. I'd love to know how they pulled this off. The visual energy and movement is astonishing. I've always liked stop-motion, so, it's nice to see something that's not an entirely CG animated film. So, if anyone is crazy like me and wants to buy this movie, get one with special features... the 3D is cool, but not really worth it.
4. The Summer 2009 publication of Parabola magazine
Parabola is a literary magazine that comes out quarterly. Each quarter, it covers a specific topic devoted to spirituality, history, and/or world culture. For summer of this year, they published on the topic of water. Sounds simple, but so many cultures have derived spiritual beliefs, lifestyles, and traditions from water... it is so essential to life, even more than food. You can survive longer on starvation than you can of severe thirst. So, the expressions on water this month range from retelling of old legends, to medieval historical accounts, and to modern poetry on thoughts about the life-giving power of water.
There's something for everyone in Parabola. Whether or not you're going to like all the articles, you'll probably appreciate at least one. I sort of dozed during some of the poetry, but I was intrigued by the legends of water in desert societies (I've blogged on one story last month), deeply enjoyed the Confucian story, learned a few new details concerning the Venusian baths of Greece, and delved into one of my other passions as I read about the Mirror of Heaven from an old Jewish manuscript. There are many more short articles beyond these sub-topics perfect for people who do their reading in small doses (like a story before bedtime or with your coffee/tea in the morning). I'm very impressed with Parabola and how there is little to no discrimination between cultures or areas of the world from which they are willing to find stories to share. They seem to try and touch on a number of significant vantage points (race, environment, female concerns, scholarly pursuits, history, etc) in each and every issue. I'm looking forward to the upcoming winter edition... I haven't seen one yet, but the subject matter is "The Path."
5. The Alice Trailer is finally here!
I've already written (at length) my opinions on what I knew at the time about Tim Burton's 2010 version of Alice in Wonderland (I still can't believe Disney is working with him). You can view the trailer on the Disney or IMDB.com websites, but Disney pulled it in a matter of days from Youtube.com. Just click here to view it, if you're interested.
I've learned a little more about the movie since I last wrote. It appears that one of Burton's disappointments with other adapations of Carroll's book is the plain episodic quality they all share. One meets all those Wonderland crazies such as the Tweedle Twins and the Mad Hatter and The Cheshire Cat without coming across them again or having them remain relevant in the unfolding of events. This doesn't bother me at all... reminds me of one of my favorite children's books, THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF PRINCE JEN by Llyod Alexander. Each character has a special power that is used in its time, once, as needed, in the story. I don't know... it just doesn't bother me. But, Burton wants to readdress this aspect of the Alice saga and make the story a more cohesive whole. Therefore, you'll be seeing plenty of The Mad Hatter. From the looks of the preview, he looks like a main character who will have an army of sorts to combat the Red Queen's army. Not sure if I think all this is necessary, but it's going to be a whole new chapter for Alice. She's older and revisiting Wonderland after forgetting all that happened ten years ago in her story. I do like the visuals Burton has created... like Alice shrinking and her dress remaining the same size forcing her to work with smaller fabric to clothe her now shruken stature. The music is a little... action/adventure movie sounding, but, I'm sure Danny Elfman will weird it up soon with his choirs and darkness.
1. Star Trek the movie
It was not my idea to go see this... but I'll admit that it's one of the better films I've seen this summer. It's pretty silly, but so was the old TV show. The original Star Trek on television, starring the now buffoonish William Shatner and the still stunning Leonard Nimoy, had its funny problems. What I've picked on the most is the unnecessary obstacles on the ship and the whole "Lookie! Lookie! We got CG galore!" thing. There is a long winding tube of water on the ship that moves towards a slicing device. Scottie is accidentally transported into this water system and Kirk has an amusing race with the water pressure to get Scottie out. I just don't see this happening on a ship in the future or otherwise. Not that there wouldn't be a disposal system of waterworks, but does it need to wind around for a mile?! It makes no sense... it's just there to create the silliness of the scene. Even the enemy ship has its issues... it's designed such that if you need to get from one side to the other, you have to cross this narrow cat walk that straddles a height that would bring any misstep of the pedestrian to his/her death. Good for a tense scene, but, really? Would anyone actually design a ship to be so hazardous (no railings or anything to protect you from falling)? And the CG is dizzying... just because you CAN turn the audience in twelves different directions in 2 seconds doesn't mean that you should! I was see-sick from seeing too much not five minutes into the film. My only other complaint is the weird gremlin buddy that Scottie seems to have befriended... I hope it's a reference to the old show that I've forgotten, because the silly gremlin was just unnecessary in a very Jar-Jar Binks sort of way.
Still, the TV show had many nonsense elements like this, so, it's still an appropriate tribute to Gene Roddenberry's original work. There was a decent amount of "re-inventing" the quippy art of "one-liners." The majority of the great one-liners were delivered by Kirk (of course) or Spock. I've blogged about one already, but, Spock does a nice job making "Live Long and Prosper" to a prejudiced council of Vulcans rather like an insult (never heard it sound this way... it was good, unexpected, angst-y fun). I also liked the exchanges between Kirk and his crew (mostly Spock, but also Bones and Scottie)... quick, smart-aleck, boy-ish entertainment. They picked a great group of people, too, to play the younger versions of the original actors. They matched up looks well enough, but each actor, I think, carried off each part believably. I have no complaints about the acting. I'm quite a fan of their choice for Spock and Bones and I've been a fan of the actor playing Uhura for a handful of years. The only other thing I could say was that they bridged the technology pretty well... all the fancy stuff existed in the future ships rather than those in the time of young Enterprise. The outfits are mostly the same... very new car smell to justify all the shininess.2. The Muscarelle Museum
The way to experience this museum is to "take a tour" with the docent... I say "take a tour" because we're talking about maybe 20 paintings max and maybe 5 sculptures. If you want to see things as big in the art history books as The Mona Lisa or Starry Night, this is not the museum for you. If you're curious about less well known pieces, the minor works or rough drafts from a handful of great American artists, then the tour should interest you. The docent gives you an hour history lesson on the paintings, their backgrounds, how the paintings came to be in the Muscarelle collection, etc. Our guide was... well, if you take her tour, you'll know what I mean when I describe her as "obscenely polite" (let's just say I would have been very agitated with the ignorant tourists that wandered in and allowed their kids to run around and yell... she simply invited them to tour with us and let them walk themselves out... she's kind of my hero... to make people so uncomfortable by being SO proper).
The only piece you'd recognize, most likely (save maybe the Titian piece and the knock-off of the original Washington portrait), is the O'Keefe painting entitled White Flower. It's much more striking in person... the white is almost translucent like you could see through the petals. The painting used to hang in one of the pointless buildings on campus like a dorm or the business building exposed to weather and students running into it. Part of why the Muscarelle came to be 26 years ago was to protect this particular gem of the College's collection. Other obscure paintings were discovered here and there on campus (like the President's broom closet) encouraging the building project. They don't have much, but what they do have is now protected. If you like learning things you can't find in a text book or very easily online, I'd recommend this museum. It's eclectic collection (at the moment) includes Titian, some Impressionists, three of the 8 commencing Ash-Can artists (two of my favorite paintings fall in this category), two artworks from the Hudson River school, and a handful of scary "This is just a sheet of gray and lavender paint" Modernists.3. The Coraline DVD
Anyone who knows me knows I adore Neil Gaiman (and all things creepy crawly) and that I'm a big fan of his works for children. He is the modern-day Grimm Brothers with a lesson you're not soon to forget. The film adaptation of his book CORALINE is actually quite good. I'm a stickler about adaptation... I like a film to get creative with the material without destroying the spirit of the original text. Briefly, an example of two adaptations of one written work:, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: The filmmakers were going to have to elaborate a little because the book is just so short that it wouldn't make for a decent film-length feature on its own (big print, double spaced, pictures, 176 pages). The Gene Wilder version (he is still my favorite Willie Wonka) went a little far with the Oompa Loompas and the dismissal of the demise of the other children, but its elaboration works the best... a planted candy making competitor tests the loyalty of the children to help Mr. Wonka choose a suitable successor for his factory. Simple, and appropriate. In the Johnny Depp version, the whole Dad dentist thing and Daddy-issues just... I think it takes away from the silliness and childlike joy of the original work. However, they did other elements marvelously (the texts for the Oompa Loompa songs are direct from the book and we get to see the outcome of the losing, naughty kids).
Anyway, Coraline does have a slightly pointless helper character (Whybie, the average boy neighbor kid), but he's not so far out there that I get angry (not a Jar-Jar Binks type). Everything else is so well done. Even where they take some creative liberties, it maintains the source text's integrity. Of course, the book is better, but the movie is pretty good.
I recently bought the DVD that comes with the glasses so you can see the 3D at home. It's a little weird for the eyes... you need to make the room as dark as possible to catch the color... but you won't catch it all. No matter how I looked at it, the color is richer in the 2D version of the movie. Don't get me wrong- the 3D in your own home this is cool and even slightly more dramatic on a smaller screen, but I'd trade it for some special features. I'd love to know how they pulled this off. The visual energy and movement is astonishing. I've always liked stop-motion, so, it's nice to see something that's not an entirely CG animated film. So, if anyone is crazy like me and wants to buy this movie, get one with special features... the 3D is cool, but not really worth it.
4. The Summer 2009 publication of Parabola magazine
Parabola is a literary magazine that comes out quarterly. Each quarter, it covers a specific topic devoted to spirituality, history, and/or world culture. For summer of this year, they published on the topic of water. Sounds simple, but so many cultures have derived spiritual beliefs, lifestyles, and traditions from water... it is so essential to life, even more than food. You can survive longer on starvation than you can of severe thirst. So, the expressions on water this month range from retelling of old legends, to medieval historical accounts, and to modern poetry on thoughts about the life-giving power of water.
There's something for everyone in Parabola. Whether or not you're going to like all the articles, you'll probably appreciate at least one. I sort of dozed during some of the poetry, but I was intrigued by the legends of water in desert societies (I've blogged on one story last month), deeply enjoyed the Confucian story, learned a few new details concerning the Venusian baths of Greece, and delved into one of my other passions as I read about the Mirror of Heaven from an old Jewish manuscript. There are many more short articles beyond these sub-topics perfect for people who do their reading in small doses (like a story before bedtime or with your coffee/tea in the morning). I'm very impressed with Parabola and how there is little to no discrimination between cultures or areas of the world from which they are willing to find stories to share. They seem to try and touch on a number of significant vantage points (race, environment, female concerns, scholarly pursuits, history, etc) in each and every issue. I'm looking forward to the upcoming winter edition... I haven't seen one yet, but the subject matter is "The Path."5. The Alice Trailer is finally here!
I've already written (at length) my opinions on what I knew at the time about Tim Burton's 2010 version of Alice in Wonderland (I still can't believe Disney is working with him). You can view the trailer on the Disney or IMDB.com websites, but Disney pulled it in a matter of days from Youtube.com. Just click here to view it, if you're interested.
I've learned a little more about the movie since I last wrote. It appears that one of Burton's disappointments with other adapations of Carroll's book is the plain episodic quality they all share. One meets all those Wonderland crazies such as the Tweedle Twins and the Mad Hatter and The Cheshire Cat without coming across them again or having them remain relevant in the unfolding of events. This doesn't bother me at all... reminds me of one of my favorite children's books, THE REMARKABLE JOURNEY OF PRINCE JEN by Llyod Alexander. Each character has a special power that is used in its time, once, as needed, in the story. I don't know... it just doesn't bother me. But, Burton wants to readdress this aspect of the Alice saga and make the story a more cohesive whole. Therefore, you'll be seeing plenty of The Mad Hatter. From the looks of the preview, he looks like a main character who will have an army of sorts to combat the Red Queen's army. Not sure if I think all this is necessary, but it's going to be a whole new chapter for Alice. She's older and revisiting Wonderland after forgetting all that happened ten years ago in her story. I do like the visuals Burton has created... like Alice shrinking and her dress remaining the same size forcing her to work with smaller fabric to clothe her now shruken stature. The music is a little... action/adventure movie sounding, but, I'm sure Danny Elfman will weird it up soon with his choirs and darkness.(Images from http://1.bp.blogspot.com, www.tfaoi.com, www.earlyword.com, http://photos1.meetupstatic.com, and http://img5.allocine.fr)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Sunday Reflections: You're so easy to love
One of my favorite yoga teachers tends to open class with some sort of "centering" exercise in which one begins some deep breathing and light stretching. She also asks us to "think about someone that is easy to love..."
So, today, in light of the most recent experiences, I'm thinking of three people in my family in particular who are the easiest people in the world for me to love... Don't misunderstand- I love ALL my people, blood or chosen... but these people are the easiest for strange reasons...
First, there's my Uncle Phillip. Now, Uncle Phillip and I see each other, maybe, two or three times per year if we're lucky or he pulls together a family reunion. He's the hardest for me to understand... the deacon of a Mormon church, the youngest brother of my dead grandfather's siblings, lives in Fredericksburg, has virtually no interests in common with me... and yet, I am so terribly in love with him. It makes NO sense, but, he is among my absolute favorite people and I have NO idea why. I'm not saying you need reasons for loving people, but some scenarios are easier to believe than others. It's one of my truest loves, I think, because it makes so little sense...
Secondly, there's my Uncle John. He was one of my closest friends during a critical growth spurt in my life (teens). He and I had loads in common... music, father issues, theater, fancy dinner parties, a desire to become better, etc. He dropped off the face of the planet a few years back, but he was found again. We're not as close as we used to be at all, but, I hope one day that will change. He works best in proximity (the closer you live to him, the better your chances of having him in your life), so, it probably won't be anytime soon... but he was like a brother, a friend, a father, an uncle, and a colleague all in one beautiful person. I miss him so very much...
Thirdly, there's my cousin, Jacqueline. We don't spend as much time together as I'd like... in fact she only just moved back to the US after spending a full year working in Scotland in the past week or so. She and I are about as different as you can get in terms of surface personality... I'm loud, she's shy. I'm brazen, she's clumsy but cautious. I'm opinionated, she'd rather not talk about it. I speak my mind before most if not all people, she finds only a few safe corners in a few safe people in which she can release and be herself. There are times that I wish I were her older sister... I wish I had had more exposure to her in a better environment than either of the emotionally confused ways in which we were raised. I can imagine we would be closer, I would have someone to protect, and she might have a little more self-confidence (I am speculating on a hypothetical, of course, but I've noticed how the presence of certain people changed everything about me and who I have become). I am happy she's back, though I'm sure her ideas of home have been shaken.
I love you all... there's no logical explanation for it, but, there it is.
So, today, in light of the most recent experiences, I'm thinking of three people in my family in particular who are the easiest people in the world for me to love... Don't misunderstand- I love ALL my people, blood or chosen... but these people are the easiest for strange reasons...
First, there's my Uncle Phillip. Now, Uncle Phillip and I see each other, maybe, two or three times per year if we're lucky or he pulls together a family reunion. He's the hardest for me to understand... the deacon of a Mormon church, the youngest brother of my dead grandfather's siblings, lives in Fredericksburg, has virtually no interests in common with me... and yet, I am so terribly in love with him. It makes NO sense, but, he is among my absolute favorite people and I have NO idea why. I'm not saying you need reasons for loving people, but some scenarios are easier to believe than others. It's one of my truest loves, I think, because it makes so little sense...
Secondly, there's my Uncle John. He was one of my closest friends during a critical growth spurt in my life (teens). He and I had loads in common... music, father issues, theater, fancy dinner parties, a desire to become better, etc. He dropped off the face of the planet a few years back, but he was found again. We're not as close as we used to be at all, but, I hope one day that will change. He works best in proximity (the closer you live to him, the better your chances of having him in your life), so, it probably won't be anytime soon... but he was like a brother, a friend, a father, an uncle, and a colleague all in one beautiful person. I miss him so very much...
Thirdly, there's my cousin, Jacqueline. We don't spend as much time together as I'd like... in fact she only just moved back to the US after spending a full year working in Scotland in the past week or so. She and I are about as different as you can get in terms of surface personality... I'm loud, she's shy. I'm brazen, she's clumsy but cautious. I'm opinionated, she'd rather not talk about it. I speak my mind before most if not all people, she finds only a few safe corners in a few safe people in which she can release and be herself. There are times that I wish I were her older sister... I wish I had had more exposure to her in a better environment than either of the emotionally confused ways in which we were raised. I can imagine we would be closer, I would have someone to protect, and she might have a little more self-confidence (I am speculating on a hypothetical, of course, but I've noticed how the presence of certain people changed everything about me and who I have become). I am happy she's back, though I'm sure her ideas of home have been shaken.
I love you all... there's no logical explanation for it, but, there it is.
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