I saw Brokeback Mountain last night (yes, yes, - the last person on the planet to see it), and as the hours pass, it becomes increasingly obvious why the film was up for best picture.
Initial reactions keep washing over me...and I assume they will for days...because what is portrayed in the film is done so exquisitely that there is never a moment of fiction - of disbelief - of being taken "out" of the film.
There are few things that I reacted most strongly too - the things I feel actually made the movie:
1) The eye contact - the whole movie was about having it, or not. The entire story was literally expressed through who was able to look at whom and when. There is no experience like sitting and looking into a person's eyes. The way the main characters' eyes connected by physically holding each others' heads, and forcing that bonding to occur, was a testament to how badly they both wanted - and wanted to escape - the emotion overwhelming them.
2) The physical contact - my sexuality does not include violence beyond the standard grab, clench and hold. The brutality of the sex portrayed in the movie, and the masculinity - the literal fight of self and other those characters go through to be able to give in to physical intimacy...and then again, the physical pain, the inside-out beating the two men took from their longing to be together. These were in such stark contrast to the softness, and carefullness expressed in the sex scenes with women. It makes perfect sense to me that either kind of intimacy could be a turn on - and that having a partner who could hold their own - give and take the brutality in equal measure with tenderness...well, that is a need which was eloquently portrayed.
3) Lastly, we are so lucky to live where and WHEN we do. Yes, gays are beaten and hated in my lifetime. But not that I've faced personally. I've felt the fear of marching in a Pride Parade, but I've only ever marched with thousands of others around me, strength in numbers, to face down the people at the edges of the crowds, taunting and hating. The intense loneliness of the place and time and society was really the star of the movie.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Waiting, Waiting...
So, my blogger "hero" is waiting to hear about a job, and it FILLS his writing on his blog.
I'm waiting for my deep inner being to assert itself by leaping to the surface and commandeer all of my bodily functions with the sole intent of making choices that make TIME for my writing.
I've been writing - oh, yeah, have I. In e-mail to friends and in my thoughts, and while I've been sleeping...I've been updating this blog so regularly with both little vignettes and ideas for huge SF novels (like the one about the "death molecule" which I have intuited that there is probably a scientific basis for).
Instead of writing these things, I've been loading my social life as if it was a plate at a Vegas Buffet:
Sewing Dates, Running Dates, Parties (and more parties), Trips to visit my niece, Trips to Florida, Appointments with my husband to get chores done, Dinners and movies with friends, Beauty appointments to rip off unwanted hair, Shopping appointments to rip off good deals...all of which amounts to no words HERE.
But I got all of my holey and buttonless clothes fixed last night at sewing evening (yay!).
And tonight I get to cook and eat a healthy meal, followed by watching a movie I really wanted to see (Yeah! one Oscar winner!).
Besides tomorrow is another day, and I can always rest then....
I'm waiting for my deep inner being to assert itself by leaping to the surface and commandeer all of my bodily functions with the sole intent of making choices that make TIME for my writing.
I've been writing - oh, yeah, have I. In e-mail to friends and in my thoughts, and while I've been sleeping...I've been updating this blog so regularly with both little vignettes and ideas for huge SF novels (like the one about the "death molecule" which I have intuited that there is probably a scientific basis for).
Instead of writing these things, I've been loading my social life as if it was a plate at a Vegas Buffet:
Sewing Dates, Running Dates, Parties (and more parties), Trips to visit my niece, Trips to Florida, Appointments with my husband to get chores done, Dinners and movies with friends, Beauty appointments to rip off unwanted hair, Shopping appointments to rip off good deals...all of which amounts to no words HERE.
But I got all of my holey and buttonless clothes fixed last night at sewing evening (yay!).
And tonight I get to cook and eat a healthy meal, followed by watching a movie I really wanted to see (Yeah! one Oscar winner!).
Besides tomorrow is another day, and I can always rest then....
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Pshaw!
I wanted SO BADLY to write today...or at least paste all the other things I already wrote here and comment on them, but time slipped away....
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Thin Veneer of Organization
My boss today said she was surprised that my taxes took me approximately 14 hours to complete last weekend. "You're so *oooorganiiiiized*...that surprises me." HA!
This relates to, um, my WHOLE FREAKING LIFE. I continue to have this very disturbing belief that what people see and experience from me is iteration after iteration of this thin veneer of organization. Or perhaps my facade of intelligence. Maybe a glaze of cheerfullness. A fleeting impression of confidence. [Hmm. No. That one is real. That is real confidence, and real trust in my own judgement.] Instead, what about a fleeting impression of discipline (yeah, I've actually been accused of that. Blew my mind).
I ponder all these things I seem to others, but would never attribute to myself. It makes me worry:
1) Do people really just not "get" me?
2) Am I the polar opposite of what they see, but I have been taught I can't behave that way, so instead I have become this little show?
3) Am I as cool as they think I am and so I should stop hampering my rise to greatness by dis-believing the compliments and positive attributions of others?
They did this wonderful study ('They" in this sentence being the cool social scientists psych students get to study) about the gender difference in attributing personal success or failure. It turns out that on an identical test, designed to be impossible to score high on, a failure to perform will be (correctly) attributed by men to the test or the external environment. Women will attribute their perceived failure internally to some lack of knowledge or personal performance. The inverse is also true: When women accomplish something they attribute the acheivement in balance with environmental factors, while Men tend to boost their egos.
This is the kind of research that sticks with me and blows me away. Is this related to the contemptible disbelief I feel when people accuse me of positivity?
I would NEVER describe myself as inherently happy; There is always something good externally, MAKING me happy. I would never describe myself as disciplined; I get help externally and find people to hold me accountable. I am not organized...not in my thinking, my writing, my accounting, my scheduling...Although, I am extremely happy with my closet. I was forced to get that way by sheer need to dress...in the same way I had to become organized enough to keep a job and do it tolerably well.
Is it that I am seeing the difference between the survival skills I've learned and what I consider my 'nature?' Why is this theme so re-occurring and worrisome to me.........?????
This relates to, um, my WHOLE FREAKING LIFE. I continue to have this very disturbing belief that what people see and experience from me is iteration after iteration of this thin veneer of organization. Or perhaps my facade of intelligence. Maybe a glaze of cheerfullness. A fleeting impression of confidence. [Hmm. No. That one is real. That is real confidence, and real trust in my own judgement.] Instead, what about a fleeting impression of discipline (yeah, I've actually been accused of that. Blew my mind).
I ponder all these things I seem to others, but would never attribute to myself. It makes me worry:
1) Do people really just not "get" me?
2) Am I the polar opposite of what they see, but I have been taught I can't behave that way, so instead I have become this little show?
3) Am I as cool as they think I am and so I should stop hampering my rise to greatness by dis-believing the compliments and positive attributions of others?
They did this wonderful study ('They" in this sentence being the cool social scientists psych students get to study) about the gender difference in attributing personal success or failure. It turns out that on an identical test, designed to be impossible to score high on, a failure to perform will be (correctly) attributed by men to the test or the external environment. Women will attribute their perceived failure internally to some lack of knowledge or personal performance. The inverse is also true: When women accomplish something they attribute the acheivement in balance with environmental factors, while Men tend to boost their egos.
This is the kind of research that sticks with me and blows me away. Is this related to the contemptible disbelief I feel when people accuse me of positivity?
I would NEVER describe myself as inherently happy; There is always something good externally, MAKING me happy. I would never describe myself as disciplined; I get help externally and find people to hold me accountable. I am not organized...not in my thinking, my writing, my accounting, my scheduling...Although, I am extremely happy with my closet. I was forced to get that way by sheer need to dress...in the same way I had to become organized enough to keep a job and do it tolerably well.
Is it that I am seeing the difference between the survival skills I've learned and what I consider my 'nature?' Why is this theme so re-occurring and worrisome to me.........?????
Friday, March 03, 2006
2 Days Behind...and Counting
Okay, now I'm 2 full days behind in my tarot pulls. Why is it that something so good for me is often so hard? I thought about pulling cards TWICE last night...and then didn't go make a teenie quiet space to just do it. Why, Why, WHY?!?!
Same question on the weight-loss front, right. I know WHAT to do, but the execution is lacking. Same issue on the business front too - I know what to do to make my CM business pay off...and yet, and yet....
My problem is certainly not unique. I see this all around me within the organization where I currently work. Is the problem that we have a plethora of other choices? Interrupts? Options? I mean, who 'invented' procrastination? Is it an inherent human quality?
Is there a CURE YET!?!?!
Same question on the weight-loss front, right. I know WHAT to do, but the execution is lacking. Same issue on the business front too - I know what to do to make my CM business pay off...and yet, and yet....
My problem is certainly not unique. I see this all around me within the organization where I currently work. Is the problem that we have a plethora of other choices? Interrupts? Options? I mean, who 'invented' procrastination? Is it an inherent human quality?
Is there a CURE YET!?!?!
Thursday, March 02, 2006
"When you know that all is Light...
...You are enlightened."
Who was the first person to put little sayings and phrases on tea bags? Irritatingly brilliant.
Irritating because sometimes I just want a cup of tea, not a flash of the metaphysical. But something about my personality compels me to actually read and ponder phrases such as the one above, when they confront me dangling by the cup handle....
Brilliant because sometimes a little "ponderous" is EXACTLY what I want - a flash of the metaphysical: A moment to ponder and enjoy thinking, "What does that mean - 'all is light'?" Can my boredom be 'light?' Can war and hate and poverty be 'light'? Can it be that easy to be enlightened, or, in addition to the pun, is the tea bag somehow mocking me....
Either way, the fact that there is a statement for consideration on the tea bag string (is there a technical term for the tab of paper at the end of a tea-bag-string?) causes a mental ellipses in the flow of a day. The consciousness will slow for a moment's recognition and decide whether to skip it, or linger there, but the opportunity - Ah! That is an achievement beyond the quality of the tea.
Who was the first person to put little sayings and phrases on tea bags? Irritatingly brilliant.
Irritating because sometimes I just want a cup of tea, not a flash of the metaphysical. But something about my personality compels me to actually read and ponder phrases such as the one above, when they confront me dangling by the cup handle....
Brilliant because sometimes a little "ponderous" is EXACTLY what I want - a flash of the metaphysical: A moment to ponder and enjoy thinking, "What does that mean - 'all is light'?" Can my boredom be 'light?' Can war and hate and poverty be 'light'? Can it be that easy to be enlightened, or, in addition to the pun, is the tea bag somehow mocking me....
Either way, the fact that there is a statement for consideration on the tea bag string (is there a technical term for the tab of paper at the end of a tea-bag-string?) causes a mental ellipses in the flow of a day. The consciousness will slow for a moment's recognition and decide whether to skip it, or linger there, but the opportunity - Ah! That is an achievement beyond the quality of the tea.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Nine of Cups
Wish Fullfillment
Satisfaction
Sensual Pleasure
I actually got a lot of things I wished for recently. I went on vacation with my husband (but I came home feeling horribly exhausted and pretty sick). I got to go to Disneyland before they changed the Pirates of the Caribbean ride (but I was cold, and wet, and my weight loss program was properly sabotaged by eating at Club 33). I finished the stack of books I got for Christmas (but none of them were particularly good reads). I still had a job when I came back to San Jose (but I'm still at the same JOB...ho hum).
I feel the opposite of this card - almost entirely UNsatisfied. I'm happy to be married, happy to have a home to come HOME to...but everything else just doesn't feel right....
Even sensual pleasure-wise I'm off kilter - suffering from bad allergies and strange hives on both sides of my neck. My eyes hurt just as they did when I came home from my trip to Santa Barbara in August. My nose is just plain out of comission, and I've given myself painful cuticle tears in three places. My ears are clogged and my mouth is recovering from a series of toungue burns from too-hot-tea.
What a mess. I think I'll go home now....
Satisfaction
Sensual Pleasure
I actually got a lot of things I wished for recently. I went on vacation with my husband (but I came home feeling horribly exhausted and pretty sick). I got to go to Disneyland before they changed the Pirates of the Caribbean ride (but I was cold, and wet, and my weight loss program was properly sabotaged by eating at Club 33). I finished the stack of books I got for Christmas (but none of them were particularly good reads). I still had a job when I came back to San Jose (but I'm still at the same JOB...ho hum).
I feel the opposite of this card - almost entirely UNsatisfied. I'm happy to be married, happy to have a home to come HOME to...but everything else just doesn't feel right....
Even sensual pleasure-wise I'm off kilter - suffering from bad allergies and strange hives on both sides of my neck. My eyes hurt just as they did when I came home from my trip to Santa Barbara in August. My nose is just plain out of comission, and I've given myself painful cuticle tears in three places. My ears are clogged and my mouth is recovering from a series of toungue burns from too-hot-tea.
What a mess. I think I'll go home now....
"What I Did on My Vacation"
I will provide the following book reports, since that is pretty much “What I did on my Vacation”:
Guy Gavriel Kay’s “Viking” Book (so unmemorable that I can’t remember the name and I read it less than a week ago) gets only 2 out of five bookworms. I didn’t care much about his characters. I don’t think the depth of antagonism between organized religion and the faerie kingdom was developed properly. This book would get even worse scoring if I wasn’t a fan who had read the other novels. At least three whole segments only had weight and interest because they were raised in other (better) books. His writing patterns and literary techniques are becoming decidedly predictable. I wanted to like this book SO MUCH…why couldn’t I?!?!?!
Game of Thrones is also only 2 bookworms. I’m going with: A rickety rollercoaster after a gluttonous Thanksgiving gorge. The book had so many jerky ups and downs that you are likely to start wondering why you paid for the ride in the first place (Then you remember it was a $3.99 stocking stuffer at Christmas – oh yeah). 300 pages of trying desperately to figure out the first safe spot to get off without caring how the damn thing ends. Also like a roller coaster, it turns out that the book has its own centripetal forces at work, and the story flings you along according to some law of physics that cannot be gainsaid. You are on until it comes to a complete stop, and THEN - *especially* then - you’ll wonder why you paid for the ride…
Lastly, I read some ‘real’ literature: On Beauty by Zadie Smith. Beautiful language and extremely interesting content – I laughed a lot and very much appreciated the writing about African American/Academic Culture. The book’s charm was in its sheer newness – I’ve read nothing like it, ever before. I had never met these characters, and every one of them was wholly real. It was filled with lots of academic conceptual ideas too, which was of interest, but I didn’t have time to engage with all of them…definitely a candidate for a re-read in front of the computer so that googling is possible. I loved Smith’s writing style, but the fact that it was ‘real’ lit became painfully obvious when the ending was unsatisfying. I was on vacation dammit! I didn’t want to work hard enough to extrapolate my own "What if.....?"
Guy Gavriel Kay’s “Viking” Book (so unmemorable that I can’t remember the name and I read it less than a week ago) gets only 2 out of five bookworms. I didn’t care much about his characters. I don’t think the depth of antagonism between organized religion and the faerie kingdom was developed properly. This book would get even worse scoring if I wasn’t a fan who had read the other novels. At least three whole segments only had weight and interest because they were raised in other (better) books. His writing patterns and literary techniques are becoming decidedly predictable. I wanted to like this book SO MUCH…why couldn’t I?!?!?!
Game of Thrones is also only 2 bookworms. I’m going with: A rickety rollercoaster after a gluttonous Thanksgiving gorge. The book had so many jerky ups and downs that you are likely to start wondering why you paid for the ride in the first place (Then you remember it was a $3.99 stocking stuffer at Christmas – oh yeah). 300 pages of trying desperately to figure out the first safe spot to get off without caring how the damn thing ends. Also like a roller coaster, it turns out that the book has its own centripetal forces at work, and the story flings you along according to some law of physics that cannot be gainsaid. You are on until it comes to a complete stop, and THEN - *especially* then - you’ll wonder why you paid for the ride…
Lastly, I read some ‘real’ literature: On Beauty by Zadie Smith. Beautiful language and extremely interesting content – I laughed a lot and very much appreciated the writing about African American/Academic Culture. The book’s charm was in its sheer newness – I’ve read nothing like it, ever before. I had never met these characters, and every one of them was wholly real. It was filled with lots of academic conceptual ideas too, which was of interest, but I didn’t have time to engage with all of them…definitely a candidate for a re-read in front of the computer so that googling is possible. I loved Smith’s writing style, but the fact that it was ‘real’ lit became painfully obvious when the ending was unsatisfying. I was on vacation dammit! I didn’t want to work hard enough to extrapolate my own "What if.....?"
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