I’ve been thinking lately about flow. The line of thought springs from my listening to Grit this summer as I’ve walked (whenever I get to work early enough for a quick spin), It’s an engaging, thought-provoking book by Angela Duckworth; and I finished listening to a chapter about deliberate practice and flow earlier this week.
More on deliberate practice in another post. First, I’m drawn to write about the idea of flow. And mostly that’s because I’ve recently realized how thoroughly it eludes me in my writing. It didn’t, in long ago days. I used to effectively ‘get lost’ when I was caught up in a piece of writing.
Now? Not so much. In fact, I’m tempted to say, not at all.
See, just a second ago, invisibly, I stepped out of the flow of this post to open an e-mail. (You couldn’t possibly know that I just did that, but the goal is to be honest here.)
That’s remarkably jarring…the stepping away, I mean. But maybe the honesty, too, come to think of it!
Flow is key to the kinds of meandering explorations that creativity thrives on. Whichever side of the brain is the seat of my creative self, it needs to be allowed to flow. (And parenthetically, here is one of those spots where I need to NOT stop writing. There’s no need to Google “right brain” and “left brain” to figure out which is which.)
I added this later!
Flow is about sticking with something, moving with it, gaining momentum, seeing where it leads and letting the unexpected emerge. It truly is about allowing things to develop, to unfold. DH Lawrence took the concept to its farthest reaches with his theory that you basically stepped into a flow for the duration of an entire novel. And you didn’t revise or edit. If the novel wasn’t working for you, you started over.
Flow.
And what emerges from this flow is organic and unpredictable. Again, from Lawrence:
In my life these days there are two major interrupters of flow.
The first is getting ‘distracted’ by a question or interesting tidbit, pursuing it, and losing the thread of my writing. With information almost always at our fingertips, it is incredibly tempting to just take a second and look something up. But I am coming to the conclusion that it’s not an exaggeration to call the impact of these interruptions ‘devastating.’
The other ‘interrupter’ is the seemingly ever-present part of me that I call my editor. It’s my own handy, personal, portable critic. This unhelpful entity is more present and intrusive when I’m writing on a computer than in longhand (something I seldom do anymore). It’s just so darn easy to stop, reread what I just wrote, and tweak it a little. Just a little. All the time…I mean, like every 15-seconds or so.
It’s maddening — like trying to merge onto an interstate while I also have my parking brake on. NOT flow.
So I find myself wanting to recapture something of flow by challenging myself with one, small step. The step is to commit to at least 15-minutes a day of writing with flow. No editing, no straying from the page…just flow.
Some of that, then, can be grist for posts here, perhaps. Some of it can be tossed. The goal is to let go of the distractions and constraints that have accumulated in recent years and see where it takes me.
I used to write here just about every day. Then, some years ago I took on part-time online work that involved doing some writing for others. It’s been an interesting journey and one that has taken me away from this place more than I like.
Other things have changed, too. My interest in women’s soccer — one of the drivers of this blog early on — has dwindled. Was it the personalities I was fascinated by, more than the game itself? Maybe. But I’ve also found that nearly anything that you pay close attention to becomes palpably more real and interesting. With less attention, the bond weakens and the object of interest gradually loses its color and meaning.
Nuanced and fascinating worlds exist at every turn — all that’s lacking is the time to move in close enough to notice and appreciate. So, in some ways, the choice to focus creates interest and meaning – and the choice is more or less arbitrary.
Then there’s this…
So the other thing I’ve noticed these recent years is that I’m on the receiving end of so much more input than I used to be. It’s the reality of our world today, and I’m partly to blame. I mean, right now I’m half-listening to my “Daily Briefing.” Sarah Huckabee Sanders’ twangy voice drones, flat and a wee bit defensive, in my left ear, while I write this. It’s just terrible for focus. But Alexa is sitting right next to me, and she has things to share!
So my attention is nearly always divided. And I own that it’s a choice I am making. And maybe, just maybe, it’s starting to sink in that it doesn’t help.
Connecting by Letting Go
Don’t you remember how particular and magical things felt to you as a child? The tree at the corner of your street? The mug that held your apple juice? The steps you climbed to go to bed?
There’s no getting back to that singular focus and connection. But when I say, “Alexa stop” I am here in the silence of my room, in a way that I wasn’t before. The sounds of my fingers on the keyboard, my breathing as I write, are the only noises. In these quiet moments, I am not hearing about Hillary’s new book or hurricanes or North Korea or anything else that’s happening in the world.
The Gospel of John opens with, “In the beginning was the Word…”
But our individual human beginnings are always without words. Each and every one of us comes into the world a tiny, new being — naked and wordless.
In the womb, and then afterward, once we’ve emerged into the world and taken our first breath, we experience things. First, there’s the familiar rhythm and cozy, warm darkness of the womb. Then later comes a veritable cacophony of experiences: light, heat, cold, rough, soft, sour, wet, sweet — all manner of new sensations.
I wonder how they feel, these experiences without words? What do we do with them?
Maybe we don’t do anything. Maybe we’re just there, in the beginning. Just breathe, suck, sleep, shit, pee, feel, be.
In the beginning, the particular and the universal are one. This moment is the ONLY moment. Our mother’s face is the ONLY face. We know nothing other than what is right here right now, and it is everything.
Then, gradually, things change. We begin to recognize faces. What, there’s not just one face? There are more? Yikes!
Moments are followed by other, different moments. Daytime. Nighttime. Patterns emerge. We start wanting to make sense of things. We start wanting words. We attach names to objects in our world. We learn that having names for things really helps when we want something. And gradually, those names give shape to the worlds that we live and move and breathe in.
But here’s the thing I believe about names: as much as they give us, they take away in equal measure. Names, words, they’re certainly necessary and useful, but they diminish what they describe. Pinned down, circumscribed, something of the life goes out of the thing.
Remember how the particular and the universal were as one, back in the beginning? That’s what we can’t capture and hold with words. Here’s Wordsworth wrestling with it in his “Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood”:
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
Turn wheresoe’er I may,
By night or day.
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
Or Thomas Wolfe…
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
So here we are with our words, seeking the wordless.
Imperfect and often beside the point, they’re the tools we have as we move through this world filled with faces and experiences and moments.
Poetry gives me hope. Poetry and also meditation.
Powerful paths for discovering those magical places where, maybe just for a moment, the particular and the universal connect.
It’s almost always a process of subtraction. And it always helps.
It’s been a snowy February here in the Northeast. But that’s not why snowflakes are on my mind.
It’s because I’m puzzled by the pejorative use of the word by the Alt-Right to describe Liberals (or Libtards, as some of them like to say). How did snowflakes come to have this alt-meaning?
In Missouri in the early 1860s, a “Snowflake” was a person who was opposed to the abolition of slavery and who valued white people over all others. You’d think that our Aryans of today would then be inclined to embrace the term.
But like the current President and the news sources he finds credible, history’s realities seem to be of little interest to our Alt-Right brethren. So they’re not making this obvious connection to the etymology of snowflake.
And I fear thatthey will also be deeply offended by my use of an elitist word like etymology, so for that I want to apologize right up front and supply the definition.
Etymology: the origin of a word and the historical development of its meaning.
The Urban Dictionary has a lengthy and inconclusive definition of snowflakes. Sounds like the term is used by the left to insult the right and by the right to insult the left. In both cases, it seems intended to describe a person who is seen as overly sensitive and fragile. A far, far uglier connotation, and one with roots in the Alt-Right, is of the ash falling from the sky above the concentration camps in Nazi Germany.
I have been called a snowflake and a libtard by several people on Twitter, and a quick check of their profiles was chilling. Seething with hatred, they were definitely in the Alt-Right camp. In all cases, I couldn’t resist one pithy (to my mind) retort. Then I blocked them, because it definitely seemed the safe and sensible thing to do.
But reflecting on the word snowflake as it might apply to the Alt-Right, I do see a kind of fragility there. I’m not saying that they aren’t terribly dangerous people. But they really seem to be, fundamentally, emasculated males, howling with hurt and fury.
They construct an alternative world in which they are powerful alpha types. Then any threat to that flimsy construct is met with viciously attacking energy (along with alt-facts to back it all up).
Donald Trump is a pathetic-yet-powerful (for now) example of this. It’s fascinating to me that his masculine prowess was so blatantly questioned during the GOP debates. I mean, Little Marco really zeroed in on Donald’s Achilles Heel. And Donald, snowflake that he is, couldn’t take it — couldn’t let it be.
The theme (size and prowess) continues, as he is compelled to inflate the size of his crowds, his ‘victory,’ his deals. And his core constituency pretty much lives and breathes in the same fragile, alternative reality as Donald does. They enthusiastically agree about the size of his whatever, and in exchange he promises them a return of the lost greatness that they feel they deserve — a place where they are powerful, too.
He frames it like it’s the American Dream. But it isn’t. It’s a cheap, dark, facsimile — an Alt-American Dream, if you will. And basically, Donald is ripping off all the snowflakes who trust him. It would be sad — I’d actually feel bad for all these duped snowflakes — if the hatefulness they condone weren’t so intolerable. But it is, and I don’t.
So, today it was warm. There’s a feeling that spring is coming. Snowflakes are melting away. In a few weeks, we’ll start seeing the ground again – start seeing what’s underneath. Alt-reality gives way to reality. It has to. It’s not sustainable over the long haul. Snowflakes melt and spring comes. It’s just the way it works.
Witnessing Donald Trump’s unpredictable, illogical, uncivil and deeply disturbing actions since he took office is an experience that’s difficult to describe, let alone assimilate. I’ve seen nothing like it. There’s no ‘American’ place to put it.
Comparisons to Watergate don’t work for me, because with Nixon, as conniving and manipulative as he was, there was some feeling of living in a shared reality. So, chillingly, it’s comparisons to the Germany of the 1930’s that has more resonance when it comes to Trump. A LOT more resonance.
How?
Well, for starters, there’s the fact that citizens of this country who are not white Christian males are seeing their rights called to question, if not outright violated. This is built on a pathetic foundation of lies, starting with the distorted idea that white Christian males are a victimized group and also a group that is entitled to be treated better.
Make America Great Again
There’s nostalgia for a past when things were better (for white Christian males) and a belief that this is how it should be. And this is founded on a lack of education, a lack of empathy, and a lack of any sense of real history.
Instead of an actual awareness of and learning from history, we have this illusory, Halcyon nostalgia that Hitler milked then, and Trump and his minions are milking now. They lather up the right, fueling their feelings of entitlement and of having been wronged. They point to an enemy or enemies, promise to oust them – and that’s how they gain and consolidate their power.
So in Trump’s regime — like Hitler’s, the only people who aren’t going to be targets of hate are white Christian males. We see T-shirts proudly calling a presidential candidate a cunt and trumpeting “Lock her up!” We see immigrants, African-Americans, Native Americans, Muslims, Jews, journalists, and the LBGTQ community targeted. We see racism emboldened and unleashed.
And we see the acolytes of the Alt-Right placed in positions of power. I am not naive about racism in America. We have a long, long way to go. But having a white supremacist as a senior advisor to the President is an in-your-face move that sends clear messages to each and every one of us.
Like Hitler, Trump talks in black-and-white terms when nuance is accurate and is what’s needed. Nuance doesn’t serve him. He talks about “bad guys” and “bad hombres.” He decries “fake news” like the NY Times. His goal is to cut off access to real news by undermining trust in anything other than what emanates from his Twitter-feed or from Breitbart.
And the GOP? The GOP has itself tied in knots as it tries to decide whether to prioritize the good of the country or of the party. Look to history, Paul, Mitch — that would be my advice to you. Look to history and grow some. Put your legislative agenda aside and use this time to dethrone a dangerous madman.
And for me? I keep looking around and thinking, how did we get here? Trump lost the popular vote, yeah. But a whole lot of people voted for him.
People who carry a lot of anger and hatred. People who believe they have been wronged and deserve retribution or recompense … or a return to a golden past that was built on the backs of other people.
I know there’s got to be more nuance here than I tend to see. I know I need to listen and try to understand. But I also know that there’s a line. Trump is over that line. His administration is over that line. Nothing normal or okay about it … so Democrats, do your damnedest, and hopefully the GOP will come along.
NOTE: The photo I’ve used here comes from the post I cited above, which is found on a fascinating site called The Hyper Texts.
So, anyway, this didn’t just start with the Donald. No, others prepared the way and the universe attempted to warn us, but to no avail.
Indeed, Ron and Nancy Reagan (direct antecedents of the current administration) apparently took the trouble to hide their connection to the Antichrist (according to Wikipedia). When moving to their home in Bel-Air after the 1988 election they deftly covered their tracks by changing their address from 666 St. Cloud Road to 668 St. Cloud Road.
I’m not joking, people, this stuff is real.
And Jesus said, “‘Having eyes, do you not see? And having ears, do you not hear?’ And do you not remember?”
We were talking about you at work today and, truth be told, we were feeling sad for you.
Have you seen the videos and photos being posted on-line? The ones comparing Obama’s body language with Michelle to the way Donald is with you? There’s an interesting article about this whole body-language thing that you might want to take a look at. It will probably feel weird to read it at first. But I think you’ll ultimately find that it confirms a lot of your feelings – perhaps feelings that you’ve tried to hide, even from yourself.
Of course, there’s that viral GIF of your husband turning and saying something to you at the Inauguration. I’m guessing that you’ve seen it and that, again, it resonates with your inner feelings. You are smiling so glowingly at him as he turns toward you. Then he speaks and turns away and it is painful to watch how our face changes – how sad you look.
And that’s what I want you to know, Melania. We see how bravely you work to smile when the photos are being taken, But then you look so terribly sad, lost and unhappy when you think no one is watching.
Here’s the thing. While it may seem awful to you, to think that millions and millions of people are watching, there’s a different way to look at it. An alternate way, if you will.
The truth is that a lot of those people watching this unfold — people just like me — really empathize with your pain.
I admit that I don’t care for your husband. But that’s not why I am writing today.
He clearly is not someone who treats you well. It’s impossible not to see it. Literally everyone sees it, except for the people who voted for him, of course. (And even some of them are starting to waver.)
So this is the time, Melania. This is your time. If there ever was a perfect moment for you to get away from him, this is it.
Why?
Well, for one thing, he is, right now, so busy and preoccupied with Twitter and the size of his Inauguration and everything, he might not have a lot of energy for putting up a fight.
But the biggest reason to do it now is that you’d have well over half the population of the US … and the entire WORLD … rooting for you. It would be amazing. Bigly.
Forget support, you’d have people cheering you wherever you went. You’d be bigger than Princess Di — I really think so.
And you know what — you’d also be making an important statement to women about bullying. Remember, that’s the cause you said you’d be working on in the coming months.
So Melania, how about starting your work off with a big bang. Tell the man with the comb-over and the tiny hands that you no longer wish to be treated disrespectfully. You can do it quietly and with dignity — then stand back and watch the tweet-storm — and soak up the applause.
Everything that we humans experience happens at a particular place and time. The world is teeming with layer upon layer of human experiences — large and small, memorable and not.
There are intersections, stretches of sidewalk, rooms in buildings — you name it — all freighted. There are places that I walk through unknowing, where others pause, remembering a face, a conversation, a joy or a pain.
Layer upon layer.
I think about a bedroom in Pennsylvania. There my mother woke in the middle of a long ago January night. She was in the throes of an asthma/heart attack that took her life. Now someone else lives in that house and sleeps in that room.
Places where things have happened.
It’s not always big, life-altering things, either. Everything we’ve touched, every singular moment is a kind of anniversary. Take an early spring evening on the deck listening to the first peepers and watching Caleb and Ruby explore the field. This happened once and is layered on this dawn-lit deck, along with birthday celebrations and snowstorms — moments piled through decades of seasons.
If we could be geologists of the invisible, what would we discover?
Yup, that’s what I am doing. We have a new washing machine being delivered between 9:30 and 11:30 AM today, and I am here trying to use the time wisely.
One thing I am sure to do is interact with other appliances. Seems an easy and appropriate activity while waiting for the Sears guy to drive up the driveway. So, I’ll unload the dishwasher and get the coffee ready to drip aromatically at its appointed hour tomorrow morning. Then what?
I can’t vacuum, because then I won’t be able to hear him arrive. I can’t walk the dogs … can’t leave the house, when it comes right down to it.
Okay, I’ll move on to taking ornaments off the Christmas tree (yes, it’s true, we haven’t done that yet).
10:25, so, what’s next? What’s left?
I’d think deep thoughts, but it feels a little weird to put something like that out there, and then do it. It’s an awful lot of pressure.
Deep thoughts are better when they bubble up naturally and seemingly effortlessly. Then they just pop up into the air like spring daffodils, or maybe like little tiny geysers, if you live in Utah or Iceland or New Zealand.
But here in Canterbury it’s almost 10:35 and no washer yet. It makes me nervous, this waiting. Ruins my morning, if you want to know the truth of it. Having someone coming sometime — but I don’t really know when — is a little like waiting for a geyser to erupt.
As someone who had way too much unpredictability to deal with at way too young an age, I am very sensitive to these things. Once the guy arrives it’ll be fine … but the waiting is just killing me.
10:40 … and okay, maybe I am exaggerating a little bit. Or not. I keep looking over my shoulder and down the hill. When will the truck turn up the driveway? Everything is ready. There’s really nothing for me to do, but this small encroachment … no, the waiting for this small encroachment … is stealing my morning from me.
Whatever is going to happen, once it is happening, is something I can deal with. But before it happens, apparently I struggle mightily and don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never observed the process this closely. I’m in suspension and I don’t like it. I have time here in my hands, and I don’t know what to do with it — not at all.
10:45 and I’m thinking this probably has something to do with mortality. Doesn’t everything?
There, a deep thought … now back to the Christmas tree!
I nearly always have Thomas Wolfe somewhere in the back of my mind. No matter, really – it could be much worse (and quite often is).
Such a fraught and freighted word, home is. Simple, stolid – just one syllable. Nothing fancy about those four letters, but oh the dramas and dynamics they’ve got space for! Whether home conjures a warm haven where the smell of baking bread wafts from the kitchen, or a seething breeding ground for neuroses, or something in-between, one thing is universally true — you can’t go there again.
Okay? So let it go. You can’t go back, so just let it go. Not so easy though. If you can’t go home, then where the heck are you supposed to go?
It’s a quandary and a quest that’s downright Biblical. It stretches from Abraham and Moses right to the present day, as squabbles about ‘home’ persist in the so-called Holy Land … and on borders just about everywhere.
The Beatles appear to have weighed in, back in the early 70’s. That Long and Winding Road sounds like something that’s leading a wanderer home. But whose door is it? Did they really say your door? Someone else’s door? That seems weird, and all those folks talking about building border walls aren’t gonna like you showing up at their door, no suh!
So let’s take a step back. Don’t they say home is where the heart is? If that’s true, then it sounds to me like home is actually something inside of you. Seriously, think about it. If your heart is somewhere else, aren’t you likely to be experiencing some kind of a medical emergency?
I’m not getting very far with this. (And by way of confession, this is actually an old draft that I’m ‘refreshing’ today — so there’s that.)
I often remind myself that the journey of life isn’t linear. Learning certainly isn’t. More layered, I’d say – more like geology – or the popular metaphor of peeling an onion.
But one part of it really is linear – the part that involves letting go and moving ahead. Having goals and direction is linear, at least when you are moving.
And you have to let go to keep moving. If you don’t let go, then you are tethered. And tethered, your movement will be in a circle.
So, what does that have to do with ‘home’ — and where does that leave us?
Well, it sure seems to me like home’s gotta be inside, or you’re bound to be always moving in a circle. You’ll be holding on and looking outside for a place or a feeling — something that happened once. It’s in you — it really is. You just can’t find it ‘out there’ again.
…the dark ancestral cave, the womb from which mankind emerged into the light, forever pulls one back – but…you can’t go home again…you can’t go…back home to the escapes of Time and Memory. You Can’t Go Home Again ~ Thomas Wolfe
Licorice Pizza: I'm starting anew here and have now been, twice, to Vax and Snax at Red River. These are Thursday night movies for vaccinated and masked folks, and you can get POPCORN! But I digress...Licorice Pizza was a sweet, coming-of-age in The Valley in the Seventies sort of movie that managed to include waterbeds and Jon Peters and two new stars -- Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman (son of Philip Seymour Hoffman).
If Beale Street Could Talk: Quiet, beautiful, heartfelt, devastating. America wears many masks. This movie strips a few of them away. It shines a light on quite a lot of ugliness. As well, it illuminates dignity and resilience in the face of a system built on the abuse of privilege and power. A perfect movie to see on the eve of what is hopefully Donald Trump's last SOTU.
Shoplifters: A beautifully honest, quiet movie that is at once uplifting and devastating. Universal questions are raised and left open for pondering. What is a family? How do people survive in our world today? And how do we judge their choices?
Green Book: Very enjoyable movie and yet deeply flawed. The white guy comes across as the hero in ways that are typical for the American movie industry, and comfortably misleading in terms of the realities of our culture. Especially in the current socio/political atmosphere, can't we do better than this?
On the Basis of Sex: We applauded, we cried, we felt so glad that RBG was as prescient as she was. And I felt personally glad that her love of opera clearly predates her connection with Scalia. What an inspiring woman -- and a good movie about her early years as a student, professor, and attorney.
The Favourite: Did I say that being a queen was no fun? This definitely seems to have carried forward to Queen Anne's reign. Strong performances again, and more belly laughs than you'd think. And right along with it, grief, emptiness, ambition, and gouty excess.
Mary Queen of Scots: Being a queen was no fun in the 16th century. Excellent, complex performances in this one. I found Elizabeth especially compelling. Very unclear who actually wins out in this one.
Another Year: Loved this one! It's about a couple, and their friends, and their lives – painful in spots, and wonderfully everyday and enriching, to my mind. Great performances – and who knew there was so much wine being drunk in England!?
Tiny Furniture: A young woman (aka Lena Dunham) comes home after graduating from college and tries to find herself – or not. A character study that I found humorous and touching – and sometimes a little disturbing and/or self-indulgent. It's definitely a privilege to have the leisure to "find oneself." After this..."Girls."
Rabbit Hole: Painful/powerful movie about loss and grieving. Hard to watch but well worth the effort, with a strong cast and an especially on the mark performance by Nicole Kidman. I continue to be glad to see that she is clearly outstripping Tom Cruise as an artist. You go girl!
The Kids Are Alright: Very enjoyable movie with great performances and an excellent cast. Two kids whose moms are lesbians decide they want to find out something about their "father" – and everything moves on from that point.
The King's Speech: Warm, funny, inspiring – and apparently a bit of a rewrite of history, to boot! Colin Firth puts out an amazing performance – and was well rewarded for it. Everyone else is great too, and if you're one of the few people left who hasn't seen it, it's definitely worth a look!
Black Swan: This is a disturbing movie that I really loved – and in case you haven't noticed, I do have a tendency to like disturbing movies. What's real and what isn't? You be the judge. Also, be on the lookout for Winona Ryder – you'll never recognize her!
Blue Valentine: A couple in trouble – how they started and how they got to where they are. A good movie with excellent performances that left me wondering, especially in Michelle Williams' case, whether she was thinking about what's his name (her partner who died suddenly – the guy who starred in Broke Back Mountain – for some reason I can't remember his name – oh yeah, Heath Ledger).
Shutter Island: A dark period piece that has the creepy feel of the 1950s (creepy to me at any rate) and has stayed with me more than I would've thought. A movie with surprises – definitely worth a look.
Cyrus: I don't remember this one so well, but have a vague recollection of walking out of the theater feeling not so enthralled. I believe it's supposed to be funny – but as you can tell it didn't really make an impression.
I Am Love: Really beautiful, sumptuous movie that made me hungry, just watching it. A keeper!
The Girl Who Played with Fire: The second in the three part series involving the girl with the dragon tattoo, this movie was much harder to watch than the first, as Salander's triumph isn't quite so clear at the end. Painful, painful, painful.
Scott Pilgrim Versus the World: I loved this comic book take on young love. Went to the movie on a whim and came away very happy to have seen it! Quite a few laugh out loud moments – and touching, as well.
Going the Distance: A very lightweight romcom that kinda left me feeling like I had just spent an hour and a half reading People magazine. In other words, pretty much a waste of time.
Never Let Me Go: Wow! This was an amazing, stark, and moving movie about kids who are basically raised to become organ donors. Very much worth seeing.
The Town: Ben Affleck's movie about bank robbers. It's okay. Not great, but okay. It does make me curious about Charlestown – will have to go there one day.
You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger: A Woody Allen movie that I honestly don't remember very well. It's pretty much about adults behaving badly – something that Woody knows a little something about.
The Social Network: The movie about Facebook. I found it very interesting and well done, and was especially fascinated/disturbed by the window on the incredible privilege and elitism still thriving at undergrad Harvard.
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest: Number three in the Dragon trilogy. I found this, in many ways, the weakest of the three movies – although that's not to say that it was weak. Perhaps my enjoyment was affected by the fact that I hadn't read the book. Anyway, it's a great trilogy and I was sorry to see it come to an end.
Fair Game: The movie about the Valerie Plame affair. One of the things that I found most interesting was how it uncovered my own biases, as she was clearly a very serious and talented agent, but because of her blonde haired beauty, I pretty much assumed that she was a lightweight in real life. I appreciated, also, the depiction of her husband as a bit of a media hound, which was how he seemed to me at the time. And of course, there are the despicable characters of the Bush administration. Glad they were on display in all their glory!
City Island: This was a fine, if predictable, movie about a family in which everyone has a secret and is telling lies. I mostly loved it because it gave me a glimpse of where my friend CB lives!
Winter's Bone: Wow! Unrelenting, stark, and ultimately uplifting – at least to my mind. This is a painful movie about life when you're the daughter of someone who runs a meth lab. Winter's Bone is a perfect title. J-Law is amazing!
Please Give: Quirky, sweet, slice-of-life movie. I loved the low-key character development and good humor of it all. Enjoyable, with a great cast and few false notes.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo: Tho' parts of the book were missing, this was an excellent rendition of an excellent book. Not for the faint of heart, tho'! Lisbeth Salander is an Emma Peel for the 21st Century (watch for more from Noomi Rapace - I will be)!
Me and Orson Welles: Or was it Orson Welles and me? (If Orson had anything to do with the title, I'm guessing the latter.) I thoroughly enjoyed this movie, even as it reminded me of why the world of the theatre holds absolutely no appeal for yours truly! Nice to see Claire Danes back ... still have to finish watching Temple Grandin, too!
Crazy Heart: I left this movie thinking ... "Eh?" but it has stayed with me. Jeff Bridges does give a wonderful performance. The amount of smoking and drinking was nauseating - as I guess it was supposed to be - all in an understated, Jeff Bridges sort of a way.
A Single Man: One of the best movies of the year in my book. Haunting, beautifully acted and filmed ... marred only by an unnecessarily heavy-handed ending, IMHO. That was the only flaw in an otherwise brilliant bit of artistry. Colin Firth was perfect, and this was an amazing writing/directing debut for Tom Ford! See it!!!
Young Victoria: I am eternally grateful to have not been born the heir to a throne. Life was confusing enough! This was an enjoyable, tear-jerker of a movie that left me wanting to know more about the details. Perhaps a bio for Bookeaters?
Precious: Wow, wow, wow. Two weeks in a row - another amazing movie at Red River. This is a challenging and important movie ... about life in America ... every single day ... everywhere.
The Messenger: Wow, wow, wow. This is one of the best movies I have seen in quite some time. Its focus is on two men who notifiy NOK (next of kin) when a soldier dies. It is a raw, wrenching, unflinching and uplifting journey - not to be missed. Seriously
Damned United: This was a study in soccer, ambition, and friendship. For soccer buffs who actually know the players (I'm a late-comer to the game) the movie would be that much better. I loved it, though - and recommend it highly.
A Serious Man: The Book of Job envisioned by the Coen brothers evoked the early sixties and suburbia with humor, pathos ... and a slightly nauseating quality that tells me they pretty much hit the nail on the head. As one of the goyim, I am sure there were hundreds of nuances that were lost on me ... but I loved it (nausea aside) nonetheless!
Cold Souls: The premise of this movie is deeply strange, yet it is presented in an entirely believable way. It's by turns very moving and then hilarious (in ways that, in retrospect, are hard to capture/explain). The ending leaves a puzzled feeling - but that's not really bothersome. In many ways, puzzled is the appropriate way to walk out of the theater after "Cold Souls." Check it out!
Adam: Nicely done! Not a movie that will stay with you for a long time, but I liked it. The father (Peter Gallagher) seemed a tad overdone -and unnecessarily so. Unmemorable soundtrack - but since I mention it, does that make it memorable? Now I'm starting to feel like Steven Wright - not necessarily a bad thing!
Taking Woodstock: Even going in with low expectations, this offering from Ang Lee just wasn't good. Vilma was a high point in an otherwise shoddy effort. Harsh, eh? And watch out, world - it's only 6:30 AM!
Julie and Julia: I was not as bothered by Julie as some reviewers were - maybe because I liked seeing a blogger hit the big time. Meryl Streep was amazing as Julia .. and this is definitely not a movie to see on an empty stomach! Never have I enjoyed watching people eat as much as I did watching this flick!
500 Days of Summer: I think I wasn't supposed to, but I loved it. Engaging characters and script, great soundtrack. Not as quirky and lovable as "Away We Go" - but not far behind, either.
Whatever Works: People either like or hate this latest offering from Woody Allen. I must admit that it's a little weird to see this May-December relationship on-screen, feeling so creeped out by Woody's real-life choices. But I'd say he pulls it off. There are some really great lines throughout the movie, and while not entirely believable, I didn't mind being along for the ride. A pleasant diversion for sure.
Goodbye, Solo: Interesting movie that basically contrasts life energy and death energy, IMHO. Solo is the epitome of resilience - love him! Meanwhile William seems bent on being miserable, for reasons that the movie leaves mysterious. I didn't find him very a likable or compelling character - but Solo makes up for it.
Moon: I hesitate to write this one up, as I was tired when I saw it - and missed portions. But form my bleary vantage point, this seemed an intriguing movie set on the moon and exploring themes of identity, isolation, etc. It was not my usual fare - and I wasn't up to snuff - but at least had the wherewithall to be able tell that it was quality work!
Cheri: I liked this a lot better than Easy Virtue - maybe because I went into it having already seen EV and had my expectations lowered. Michelle Pfeiffer and Kathy Bates are fun to watch as always - and I liked Rupert Friend in the title role. It all got a little too serious at the end - a tone-shift that didn't quite fit with the bulk of the movie. Still - a pleasant diversion on a rainy July evening!
Away We Go: This was an excellent movie in every regard. Great dialogue and plot line, endearing cast/characters, heartwarming/funny story that avoids tipping over into overly-sweet territory ... and great soundtrack, to boot! See it, if you haven't already.
Easy Virtue: Not my cup of tea - but I suspect it would have helped, going in, to know that this was a movie based on a Noel Coward play. The characters felt stilted and unbelievable to me, as it was - and I couldn't muster much concern for what became of them. All things considered, I'd rather have been in Philadelphia!
Sugar: Sugar is a baseball flick that is sweetly and realistically done - and definitely like no Hollywood film on the subject. The characters are real and the life is hard - and the film depicts it all in a matter-of-fact way that brings the realities home more surely than something more "dramatic" ever could. Two thumbs up on this one!
Sunshine Cleaning: Director Christine Jeffs has a winner in this tale about the hard times and resiliency of the Lorkowski family. Amy Adams, Emily Blunt and Alan Arkin shine in this movie about a bio-hazard clean-up company. Yes, that's correct. And the movie had the potential to cross the line into sappiness several times but demurred. For that I am eternally thankful. (Okay, eternally may be a little over the top.) Darn good flick, though - check it out.
Milk: Sean Penn deserves an Oscar for his amazing portrayal of Harvey Milk. It actually didn't even feel like a portrayal - more a channeling. Such a loss - that yet another creative and energetic and good leader, was senselessly murdered all those years ago. Fear, hatred and guns - why don't we remove at least the last ingredient in the tragic mix?
Doubt: Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman are amazing, and Viola Davis is a heartbreaking revelation in this battle royale. I was left with less doubt at the end than some of my compatriots ... but that took nothing away from the experience. Meryl Streep deserves an Oscar, IMHO ... and I definitely want her on my side, always!
Slumdog Millionaire: Just a great movie, start to finish. Magical,epic, and a nail-biter (even though you know what's going to happen ... pretty much. The dancing at the end did my heart good - and having M.I.A. in the soundtrack didn't hurt, either!
The Secret Life of Bees: Or was it The Secret Lives of Bees? Anyway, whatever - I want Queen Latifah to be my mother!!! (What was Bill Clinton thinking, throwing her under the bus all those years ago?) The movie was entertaining but not a home run by any means. Too predictable ... but Alicia Keys was wonderfully cranky-verging-on-scary and the Queen was queenly and the honey looked delicious and it was nice hearing India Arie in the soundtrack!
Happy Go Lucky: I think I was supposed to like this more than I did. Perhaps it suffered by being seen pretty much on the heels of Rachel. I found Poppy to be a sometimes intriguing and sometimes annoying character. The relentless joking and "upbeatness" felt distancing and unnecessary. I didn't hate this movie by any means - but something was missing for me.
Rachel Getting Married: Jonathan Demme and an amazing script and cast just blew me away with this effort. The characters are fascinating and complicated and most every interaction in the film left me engaged and wanting to know more! Debra Winger was stupendous - although it's been so long since I've seen her that I kept trying to find the bull-riding Urban Cowboy persona within the steely, distant mother of this wedding movie. (She's not there.) Margot at the Wedding was very good - but Rachel puts her in her place. I highly recommend this to everyone!
Religulous: Bill Maher skewers the rampant "illogic" of religion in this free-wheeling film. His wit is right on target and as barbed as you'd expect. I found myself squirming every once in awhile. I don't mind you picking on the Pope, Bill ... but same as with Michael Moore ... sometimes when you set up "common folks" to look like fools, I cringe. Still, Religulous is worth a look for sure. The best point Bill makes? That conservatives of a religulous bent are about finding answers - while liberals are about asking questions. I can go with that!
Roman de gare: This was an intriguing, surprising, suspenseful, funny, quirky movie that I thoroughly enjoyed. The characters and plot lines are deftly developed. You should definitely check it out if you get the chance!
Young at Heart: YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS MOVIE! It's a documentary about a choral group of octogenarians in Northampton, MA. Very inspiring ... definitely something to check out!
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day: Enjoyable, light fare with a stellar performance by my favorite police chief, Frances McDormand!
The Visitor: Now this was an excellent movie ... from start to finish. It was similar to Smart People in that it had an academic as the main character. However, all similarities ended pretty much right there. In this warm, funny, and wrenching movie, the characters are well and subtly developed, the plot is (unfortunately) believable ... and there are no false notes. I would urge you to see it - you won't be sorry!
Smart People: Looks like we're getting back on track with our Tuesday night movie schedule ... for the time being. Smart People was enjoyable but left me unenthralled. (It probably didn't help that we ran into a totally enthralled movie-goer on the way in who was seeing it for the second time. High expectations may have killed this one for me.) Overall, I found the characters exaggerated and mildly unlikeable ... the dialogue stilted and self-conscious, perhaps just the way smart people talk. But then the lessons about loosening up and being less self-absorbed weren't exactly ground-breaking. Overall, it wasn't a wasted evening ... but not a movie I'll be putting at the top of my list, either.
4 luni, 3 saptamani si 2 zile (4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days): Winner of the Palm D'Or at Cannes, this film by Romania's Cristian Mungiu certainly deserves the accolades it receives. It's a realistic and emotionally unflinching story of a woman who helps her friend obtain an illegal abortion in 1987 Romania. The story is harrowing, the acting wonderful, and the cinematography amazing. This film makes Juno look like Disney pablum!
Taxi to the Dark Side: This was a harrowing and eye-opening look at what our country has become under the leadership of Bush/Cheney after 9/11. The "road taken" has definitely been a trip to the dark side. Disgusting and important to see ... as we make our way back toward the light!
Michael Clayton: What an excellent movie! Engaging, engrossing, well-acted. Tilda Swinton certainly deserved an award for her protrayal of what I have to think must be the secret, inner life of Condi Rice.
Persepolis: This animated memoir is an engaging, heartbreaking, uplifting, realistic look at life in Iran during the Islamic Revolution. Go see it! It humanizes what our current regime so consistently tries to dehumanize. An important movie, Persepolis is based on the book by Marjane Satrapi.
Margot at the Wedding: Dark, funny, tough to watch and very well acted.
I'm Not There: Bob Dylan's not my favorite, but this was a fascinating movie to watch (albeit long) and since he wasn't there, I couldn't very well feel annoyed by him. Cate Blanchette was just amazing - and I loved the surreal, Fellini-esque feel of the Richard Gere parts.
Atonement: Lush, compelling, painful - I especially loved Vanessa Redgrave's starkly powerful 5 minutes - and the Fellini-esque (can you tell I love Fellini?) flavor of the scenes of the evacuating troops on the beach - complete with ferris wheels - somehow depicting the disorienting horror of war in ways that blood and gore never could. Great movie!
Juno: Well, I went to see it. I totally agree with my friends who found the clinic scene extremely misleading, off-base, and gratuitously negative in its depiction of the women's health movement and its workers. In an otherwise nice movie, this was a thoughtless lapse ... and I was sad to see so many women in Juno's age group in the theater (one of them actually pregnant) ... who'll be coming away with a false impression that could so seriously affect their lives!
The Savages: Wow, what a good movie! Philip Seymour Hoffman has had an amazing run this year between this, "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead," and that other movie with Tom Hanks ... the name of which is escaping me at the moment ... Charlie Somebody's War. Anyway - he and Laura Linney are just wonderful as siblings dealing with their aging/ailing father. Painful and real ... and set in gritty, wintry Buffalo ... in perfect contrast to Sun City. (The latter looks like a setting that would do David Lynch proud.) Check it out if you haven't seen it!
I’ve been thinking lately about flow. The line of thought springs from my listening to Grit this summer as I’ve walked (whenever I get to work early enough for a quick spin), It’s an engaging, thought-provoking book by Angela Duckworth; and I finished listening to a chapter about deliberate practice and flow earlier this week.
I used to write here just about every day. Then, some years ago I took on part-time online work that involved doing some writing for others. It’s been an interesting journey and one that has taken me away from this place more than I like.
he Gospel of John opens with, “In the beginning was the Word…”
Yup, that’s what I am doing. We have a new washing machine being delivered between 9:30 and 11:30 AM today, and I am here trying to use the time wisely.
JordanCornblog 