Saturday, March 22, 2008
Juno
Yes, I just watched it and no, i hadn't seen it yet. I think it's great. I don't think of it in terms of the Oscars or anything like that. It's a great film with heart. She reminds me of me in a way. Especially in her sense of humor. She's always got something to say. I like her name. I like her nickname. I like her dad. And I can empathize with her want of 'perfection' in the adoptive couple. I like that it wasn't about how teenage pregnancy can tear a family apart, but rather about how perhaps those who get pregnant at that age maybe be irresponsible but are not complete idiots when it comes to life. I like that it was about mac and cheese. I like that while it marginalizes dorkdom, it doesn't make it bad. At the core, the movie is about judgement or rather the lack of it. People going through life floating in and out of 'protocol' as they see fit. Because really, we don't need protocols. Really, we look to protocols more for precedent than anything else. Really, we just want a guide, a map, something that tells us how we 'should' react and do things because sometimes it's just easier that way. Especially when it's something we haven't experienced personally. There's nothing wrong with that. I think as long as you give yourself the freedom to veer off protocol as you see fit when you need it it's fine, i mean, having a map on hand has never hurt has it? Just don't think that you have to stick to it. I think it's important to FEEL free to walk down that side street and perhaps explore that alley even if you don't. Nothing is perfect, including maps. Plus I've found it's more fun sometimes when you just go.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
What are you?
So I went to this photo exhibit opening last night:
3/10/2008 - 5/30/2008
Solo Exhibition - Part Asian, 100% Hapa (Opening Reception 3/10, 6-8:00 PM) -
Asian/Pacific/American Institute, NYU
212.992.9651
www.seaweedproductions.com
The interest is obvious for me as someone who's half Chinese and half Swiss. But what I did not anticipate was the strange feeling of walking into a room and seeing people that look just like me. I realized at that point that it was something I'd never really felt before. I mean, it can be a hard concept to grasp conceptually. It never occurred to me that this was something that I'd never experienced. After all, while lots of people are ethnically mixed up there aren't very many places where they congregate. It's not like, if you're Chinese and just moved to NY from Hong Kong and you're feeling a little homesick you can head down to Chinatown for a bit of 'home.' Know what I mean? I know I repeated myself over and over to the people I was with and I know they were saying the same, "I've never really been in a room with people that look like me." We kept looking around, mouths slightly ajar, taking it all in. I couldn't stop looking around. People all looked so different yet similar. Some of the pieces on display(all of which had short blurbs written by the subjects about themselves) caused me to laugh out loud. If you haven't seen this exhibit or the book I'd recommend it because there certainly isn't much media out there about being mixed. Not that it's so much different from other ethnic 'experiences,' but it's still another perspective.
It was refreshing to joke about the "What are you?" question all of us mixed folk seem to get. Until that point, I'd never really encounter groups of other people who were the targets of that very same question I personally get on a regular basis. So to counter the joke it just became the first thing we discovered about each other with each new person we met. I dunno, it was an interesting bit of time. I'm sure most people take it for granted to look out into a sea of people and see lots of physical similarities but now I know that I've never really had that but I never noticed it until I did have it. It's not some 'boo hoo' thing at all, I like looking different, being different, being hard to pinpoint/label. It's an observation that I wanted to share because it blew my mind a bit. Ain't no lie...
3/10/2008 - 5/30/2008
Solo Exhibition - Part Asian, 100% Hapa (Opening Reception 3/10, 6-8:00 PM) -
Asian/Pacific/American Institute, NYU
212.992.9651
www.seaweedproductions.com
The interest is obvious for me as someone who's half Chinese and half Swiss. But what I did not anticipate was the strange feeling of walking into a room and seeing people that look just like me. I realized at that point that it was something I'd never really felt before. I mean, it can be a hard concept to grasp conceptually. It never occurred to me that this was something that I'd never experienced. After all, while lots of people are ethnically mixed up there aren't very many places where they congregate. It's not like, if you're Chinese and just moved to NY from Hong Kong and you're feeling a little homesick you can head down to Chinatown for a bit of 'home.' Know what I mean? I know I repeated myself over and over to the people I was with and I know they were saying the same, "I've never really been in a room with people that look like me." We kept looking around, mouths slightly ajar, taking it all in. I couldn't stop looking around. People all looked so different yet similar. Some of the pieces on display(all of which had short blurbs written by the subjects about themselves) caused me to laugh out loud. If you haven't seen this exhibit or the book I'd recommend it because there certainly isn't much media out there about being mixed. Not that it's so much different from other ethnic 'experiences,' but it's still another perspective.
It was refreshing to joke about the "What are you?" question all of us mixed folk seem to get. Until that point, I'd never really encounter groups of other people who were the targets of that very same question I personally get on a regular basis. So to counter the joke it just became the first thing we discovered about each other with each new person we met. I dunno, it was an interesting bit of time. I'm sure most people take it for granted to look out into a sea of people and see lots of physical similarities but now I know that I've never really had that but I never noticed it until I did have it. It's not some 'boo hoo' thing at all, I like looking different, being different, being hard to pinpoint/label. It's an observation that I wanted to share because it blew my mind a bit. Ain't no lie...
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Danes and romantic comedies
Am watching Notting Hill, also read the results of a study today that claims that Danes are the happiest people because they have low (or next to no) expectations which made me think:
'Why do people love romantic comedies?'
Some say that romantic comedies build up expectations of what relationships should be in reality and then to read about the abstract of the study made me think:
'Is ignorance really bliss?'
Isn't that what adults say about children? They're happy because they are clean slates, unaffected, and any other word(s) you'd care to insert here? Now I'm not saying bollocks (remember that I'm watching Notting Hill) to biology and evolution, after all, we develop as we do for a reason. But is it possible perhaps that what works for babies and young children may not be the best for adults? Is that an unfair statement? 'Unfair' is relative. All I can base my thoughts on are my experience and in my experience I know I like romantic comedies because they make me laugh, they leave me feeling happy, and they make me aspire. I don't see anything wrong with aspiration, I mean, we are human beings what's wrong with believing that the stuff of novels and movies is possible? Why is it so outlandish to some and daily life for others?
'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.' - FDR
Is it more that we don't believe that we can recover from a failed relationship? Perhaps. Or the fear of failed relationships? Because aren't there just as many novels and movies out there that preach that particular gospel? The Romeo & Juliet stories are just as valid I guess. Undoubtedly it's a justified fear but I think it's a matter of your perspective and experience which path you subscribe to. I think for myself... I know better than to fall victim to fear perhaps because I've felt what I imagine to be the worse of the worse. And on the flipside, if you've felt it, how can you settle for anything less?
'I'm also a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.'
'Why do people love romantic comedies?'
Some say that romantic comedies build up expectations of what relationships should be in reality and then to read about the abstract of the study made me think:
'Is ignorance really bliss?'
Isn't that what adults say about children? They're happy because they are clean slates, unaffected, and any other word(s) you'd care to insert here? Now I'm not saying bollocks (remember that I'm watching Notting Hill) to biology and evolution, after all, we develop as we do for a reason. But is it possible perhaps that what works for babies and young children may not be the best for adults? Is that an unfair statement? 'Unfair' is relative. All I can base my thoughts on are my experience and in my experience I know I like romantic comedies because they make me laugh, they leave me feeling happy, and they make me aspire. I don't see anything wrong with aspiration, I mean, we are human beings what's wrong with believing that the stuff of novels and movies is possible? Why is it so outlandish to some and daily life for others?
'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.' - FDR
Is it more that we don't believe that we can recover from a failed relationship? Perhaps. Or the fear of failed relationships? Because aren't there just as many novels and movies out there that preach that particular gospel? The Romeo & Juliet stories are just as valid I guess. Undoubtedly it's a justified fear but I think it's a matter of your perspective and experience which path you subscribe to. I think for myself... I know better than to fall victim to fear perhaps because I've felt what I imagine to be the worse of the worse. And on the flipside, if you've felt it, how can you settle for anything less?
'I'm also a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.'
Sunday, February 3, 2008
letters
I work in interactive media, maintain a blog, and e-mail with the best of them yet I just felt the impulse to write a few letters. What are they? You ask. Once upon a time, people wrote what they felt about each other or even about their daily lives with a pen and paper. Mailed it. Then a few days later, it would be gleefully received. I remember, when I was 'yey' (cue: hand gesture mimicking a child's height) I remember always looking forward to getting letters in the mail. Of course, most children, love getting mail. It's a right of passage to being an adult. Even now, I ALWAYS get the mail, and sometimes between the letters from the Binghamton Alumni Association asking me for money, the notices that I've won millions of dollars, or the 5 Victoria's Secret catalogues I seem to get in one shot, I receive the occasional handwritten note and they are always the first to be opened.
I recognize that there's an irony to blogging about letter writing but it's a different method of interaction between two people that has gone the way of the horse and carriage. There's something very personal and thoughtful about letters. If you know me, you know that I despise greeting cards and it's not because I'm a scrooge who doesn't like to express their feelings. On the contrary I think greeting cards are generic because they express a pre-written, reprinted, fabricated-by-someone-in-a-cubicle-that's-not-you (btw, I work in a cubicle) sentiment. Then someone just signs their name to it and hands it off to you. Believe me, I get that this person has taken time out of their day to go out and purchase a card to give. I appreciate that. I do. And let me clarify that I have no issues with people who send greeting cards and actually write a thoughtful sentiment in it. Does that make sense? I find cards void of text other than a signature a great waste of paper. Thank you cards and Christmas cards are exempt from this rule since sheer volume prohibits excessive creativity. In any case, I was inspired by a book I excerpted for work about how to write love letters, to jot down a few thoughts to close friends and hope it brightens their day when they receive it. Hence this diatribe.
I recognize that there's an irony to blogging about letter writing but it's a different method of interaction between two people that has gone the way of the horse and carriage. There's something very personal and thoughtful about letters. If you know me, you know that I despise greeting cards and it's not because I'm a scrooge who doesn't like to express their feelings. On the contrary I think greeting cards are generic because they express a pre-written, reprinted, fabricated-by-someone-in-a-cubicle-that's-not-you (btw, I work in a cubicle) sentiment. Then someone just signs their name to it and hands it off to you. Believe me, I get that this person has taken time out of their day to go out and purchase a card to give. I appreciate that. I do. And let me clarify that I have no issues with people who send greeting cards and actually write a thoughtful sentiment in it. Does that make sense? I find cards void of text other than a signature a great waste of paper. Thank you cards and Christmas cards are exempt from this rule since sheer volume prohibits excessive creativity. In any case, I was inspired by a book I excerpted for work about how to write love letters, to jot down a few thoughts to close friends and hope it brightens their day when they receive it. Hence this diatribe.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
it happened this week
it has been an interesting week indeed. heath ledger died, people celebrated their birthdays, and i continue to be disturbed by the radical church planning to protest ledger's funeral bc he played gay in Brokeback Mountain. what? now, actors can't even play gay? i recognize that this 'church' is in the minority, at least i hope so, but it puts a major damper on my faith in humanity when people get this crazy. okay, i get it, gay is bad. gay is anti-bible. gay is likely the culmination of everything bad in humanity. what else? feel free to add on.
i think it's a need to blame, a need to point fingers, that makes these radicals find fault in others. after all, global warming is obviously caused by gay people, as is starvation in africa, the war in iraq, osama bin laden, and the reason i like my saturday morning spin class. this last one is true, because my instructor is so awesome. but i digress. i think humans are programmed to think in terms of boxes. everything needs to fit in a box and be assigned a label, categorized, itemized, lather, rinse, repeat. when things don't fit into those boxes for whatever reason, someone needs to be blamed because something has obviously gone horribly awry. but why? why does not fitting = wrong? can we not expand our minds to think that there are other ways to live? other methods of thought? other ways to be happy? things that may not fit into our conventional boxes. new things are discovered all the time, products are improved, there's a 3lb laptop for christs' sake, modern aviation, the Smart car, i mean really. can it be a fear of the new/different if we embrace 'new' in so many other arenas? are we going to hate on the 3lb laptop bc it's different? bc it's not the 10lb laptop (or dare i say, desktop) that we own? why is it so scary to some? is it bc they're afraid they wont fit into a society that includes the new/different? perhaps. perhaps, they fear becoming the minority if this new/different catches on. (again, not to say that they're in the majority now) why is it bad to be in the minority? because that makes them different from the majority. how silly. how stupid. how obtuse. are we in the 2nd grade? i think 2nd graders may be more evolved. all this bc heath ledger played gay. if you're gonna protest someone's funeral for gayness at least pick someone that actually was gay. geezus. they can't even get that right. dumasses. damn minorities...
here's the actual story:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22813570/
i think it's a need to blame, a need to point fingers, that makes these radicals find fault in others. after all, global warming is obviously caused by gay people, as is starvation in africa, the war in iraq, osama bin laden, and the reason i like my saturday morning spin class. this last one is true, because my instructor is so awesome. but i digress. i think humans are programmed to think in terms of boxes. everything needs to fit in a box and be assigned a label, categorized, itemized, lather, rinse, repeat. when things don't fit into those boxes for whatever reason, someone needs to be blamed because something has obviously gone horribly awry. but why? why does not fitting = wrong? can we not expand our minds to think that there are other ways to live? other methods of thought? other ways to be happy? things that may not fit into our conventional boxes. new things are discovered all the time, products are improved, there's a 3lb laptop for christs' sake, modern aviation, the Smart car, i mean really. can it be a fear of the new/different if we embrace 'new' in so many other arenas? are we going to hate on the 3lb laptop bc it's different? bc it's not the 10lb laptop (or dare i say, desktop) that we own? why is it so scary to some? is it bc they're afraid they wont fit into a society that includes the new/different? perhaps. perhaps, they fear becoming the minority if this new/different catches on. (again, not to say that they're in the majority now) why is it bad to be in the minority? because that makes them different from the majority. how silly. how stupid. how obtuse. are we in the 2nd grade? i think 2nd graders may be more evolved. all this bc heath ledger played gay. if you're gonna protest someone's funeral for gayness at least pick someone that actually was gay. geezus. they can't even get that right. dumasses. damn minorities...
here's the actual story:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22813570/
Sunday, January 13, 2008
A Narrator?
Still reading "Love in the Time of Cholera," and came across this sentence that intrigues me:
'As a kind of compensation from fate, it was also in the mule-drawn trolley that Florentino Ariza met Leona Cassiani, who was the true woman in his life although neither of them ever knew it and they never made love. He had sensed her before he saw her as he was going home on the trolley at five o'clock; it was a tangible look that touched him as if it were a finger. He raised his eyes and saw her, at the far end of the trolley, but standing out with great clarity from the other passengers. She did not look away. on the contrary: she continues to look at him with such boldness that he could not help thinking what he thought: black, young, pretty, but a whore beyond the shadow of a doubt. He rejected her from his life, because he could not conceive of anything more contemptible than paying for love: he had never done it.'
Firstly, I started only typing out the first sentence of the quote above but was so throughly enraptured by the resulting description that I had to copy the rest of the paragraph. Is there an omniscient narrator out there narrating all our stories? Is there an entity out there that has all our lives mapped out in front of them? I think so. I just hope not to ever be in Florentino's position...ever and if I were to end up there I think I'd rather not know.
Honestly I don't know why I picked this book up at Target back in December but I haven't read quote unquote literature in quite some time and I think this book prompts me to get back into it. To me there are some things that can only be described just so. Some of the complexities, floral, and ethereal qualities of language have been lost in time and perhaps it's only in reading, again, quote unquote great works (on who's invisible list?) that allow me to understand things and think about them in different lights. And isn't it in pondering things, circumstances, and life in general through different lenses and varying angles that make us as diverse and multifaceted as we are? It's our experiences that shape us but if we are limited in experience for whatever reason why not see what other possibilities and perspectives there are out there in the words of an artfully written novel?
I think one of the main things I like about this particular book is that you know the end before you know the beginning. Marquez tells you exactly how the love story ends within the first fifty pages. It freed me from rushing to get to the end to find out how the love story turns out. Do they end up together? Don't they? What happens? Instead I'm left to linger over the actual story for the remaining pages. I don't need to gloss or skim because I really do want to know how it all transpired. How it all came to be. How it all got so incredibly twisted.
Other choice quotes:
'Lionlady of my soul'
'"That may be the reason he does so many things," she said, "so that he will not have to think."'
'No: he would never reveal it, not even to Leona Cassiani, not because he did not want to open the chest where he had kept it so carefully hidden for half his life, but because he realized only then that he had lost the key.'
'She would defend herself, saying that love, no matter what else it might be, was a natural talent. She would say: "You are either born knowing how, or you never know."'
'She was yesterday's flower.'
'As a kind of compensation from fate, it was also in the mule-drawn trolley that Florentino Ariza met Leona Cassiani, who was the true woman in his life although neither of them ever knew it and they never made love. He had sensed her before he saw her as he was going home on the trolley at five o'clock; it was a tangible look that touched him as if it were a finger. He raised his eyes and saw her, at the far end of the trolley, but standing out with great clarity from the other passengers. She did not look away. on the contrary: she continues to look at him with such boldness that he could not help thinking what he thought: black, young, pretty, but a whore beyond the shadow of a doubt. He rejected her from his life, because he could not conceive of anything more contemptible than paying for love: he had never done it.'
Firstly, I started only typing out the first sentence of the quote above but was so throughly enraptured by the resulting description that I had to copy the rest of the paragraph. Is there an omniscient narrator out there narrating all our stories? Is there an entity out there that has all our lives mapped out in front of them? I think so. I just hope not to ever be in Florentino's position...ever and if I were to end up there I think I'd rather not know.
Honestly I don't know why I picked this book up at Target back in December but I haven't read quote unquote literature in quite some time and I think this book prompts me to get back into it. To me there are some things that can only be described just so. Some of the complexities, floral, and ethereal qualities of language have been lost in time and perhaps it's only in reading, again, quote unquote great works (on who's invisible list?) that allow me to understand things and think about them in different lights. And isn't it in pondering things, circumstances, and life in general through different lenses and varying angles that make us as diverse and multifaceted as we are? It's our experiences that shape us but if we are limited in experience for whatever reason why not see what other possibilities and perspectives there are out there in the words of an artfully written novel?
I think one of the main things I like about this particular book is that you know the end before you know the beginning. Marquez tells you exactly how the love story ends within the first fifty pages. It freed me from rushing to get to the end to find out how the love story turns out. Do they end up together? Don't they? What happens? Instead I'm left to linger over the actual story for the remaining pages. I don't need to gloss or skim because I really do want to know how it all transpired. How it all came to be. How it all got so incredibly twisted.
Other choice quotes:
'Lionlady of my soul'
'"That may be the reason he does so many things," she said, "so that he will not have to think."'
'No: he would never reveal it, not even to Leona Cassiani, not because he did not want to open the chest where he had kept it so carefully hidden for half his life, but because he realized only then that he had lost the key.'
'She would defend herself, saying that love, no matter what else it might be, was a natural talent. She would say: "You are either born knowing how, or you never know."'
'She was yesterday's flower.'
Friday, January 11, 2008
bored
I've never been so bored. i hate being sick but who doesn't? in the meantime, i'd like to ponder why it is that i know there are so many things i could be doing with this time yet i refuse to do it? thoughts?
So I watched Almodovar's "Talk to Her" yesterday and I have to say that I love him. He may be the only person who can make one feel empathy for a rapist. It is, without a doubt, a twisted story. A man essentially falls in love with a comatose woman. He knew very little about her before she feel into coma and I think he kinda makes up the rest along the way. What's interesting is the ability of the mind to not only make stuff up but for the person to then believe it. Wholeheartedly. Tricky thing that mind. Tricky tricky. it's an amazing thing.
in other news, i was just re-reading a bday card i received from a dear dear friend and i thought i'd share:
"Barb, this year I wish you more love in your live. It's not to say that you need more joy & love from friends & family because you will always have that forever without a doubt. I wish for you a kind of love that makes you flutter, a love that makes you cry, a love that makes you angelic and fly high."
i fear that this is a common sentiment among my friends about me. fear not dear friends. this is the one arena in life where i have patience. all good things come to those who wait.
So I watched Almodovar's "Talk to Her" yesterday and I have to say that I love him. He may be the only person who can make one feel empathy for a rapist. It is, without a doubt, a twisted story. A man essentially falls in love with a comatose woman. He knew very little about her before she feel into coma and I think he kinda makes up the rest along the way. What's interesting is the ability of the mind to not only make stuff up but for the person to then believe it. Wholeheartedly. Tricky thing that mind. Tricky tricky. it's an amazing thing.
in other news, i was just re-reading a bday card i received from a dear dear friend and i thought i'd share:
"Barb, this year I wish you more love in your live. It's not to say that you need more joy & love from friends & family because you will always have that forever without a doubt. I wish for you a kind of love that makes you flutter, a love that makes you cry, a love that makes you angelic and fly high."
i fear that this is a common sentiment among my friends about me. fear not dear friends. this is the one arena in life where i have patience. all good things come to those who wait.
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