Today I watched Full Metal Jacket ... not exactly uplifting for a November afternoon when it was dark so early and then raining. But a fine movie. Vietnam ... the reality show ... one that revealed just who the Americans were who were doing the fighting ... a whole range of young men from the almost feeble minded to incredibly brutal to intelligent.
The star, if there was one, was a sensitive thoughtful young man who should have been studying in some ivory tower instead of spewing bullets thousands of miles from home in someone else's senseless war. On his helmet, crudely lettered, was "Born to Kill" ... and on his lapel, a peace symbol. Said it all.
Yesterday I watched Hannah and Her Sisters. I expected to hate it. I have not liked many of the movies Woody Allen has produced and acted in. I think my dislike goes back a long way to a sex scene that was supposed to be funny, but which inhibited me for a very long time.
However; I enjoyed Hannah and Her Sisters..
Woody Allen is more likeable in this one ... just as neurotic but redeemed by love here. And the other characters are more human as well.
I have also started reading Alain de Botton's A Week at the Airport. He writes well (likely the reason he was chosen by British Airways to spend a week at Heathrow writing about it). But I found myself wondering just what purpose the book serves.
The organization reflects the realities of the airport ... Approach ... Departures ... Airside ... Arrivals. Approach is his introduction to the project. In Departures he takes us from the hotel to landings to luggage retrieval and architectural notes and then gives us vignettes of people: the disappointed traveler, the farewells of two lovers, business travelers, a family on vacation. This one is the most complex as he explores the family relationships. This section ends with a description and some musings about the prayer room. I have just entered the Airside section, and gone through security, and am now in the duty free shopping area of Terminal 5.
I don't want to dismiss the book before finishing it ... and it is certainly not painful to read. But apart from being a vehicle for the writing of a good travel writer who brings all his international experience to bear on his description of this airport, I am still wondering why he was hired to write the book in the first place. It reminds me of the kind of exercise all writers indulge in when they are biding their time. As we put in hours waiting for planes in airports or meals in restaurants or friends who are late, we all observe and reflect and write copious notes in our travel journals. It is that kind of book.
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Sunday, 14 November 2010
Thursday, 17 June 2010
Mood Cycles
Now that I no longer have any hormones my moods seem to be controlled completely by weather and events in my life.
Several cold damp days with little evidence of sun combined with yet more tax bills from Quebec have had the effect of turning me into a wretched couch potato. Today the sun is streaming in through my windows and I feel much more energetic. As soon as I finish this post I intend to write some cheques and send them out, have a coffee with Rowboat Flo who is now back at the lake and feeding her feral cats herself again, and transplant some Mugo pines while the earth is still dampish enough to be easy to work.
During my doldrums I watched several movies. Yesterday ... Alice in Wonderland and Son of Rambow, both kids' movies intended for adults, and ones that succeeded in raising my spirits.
Alice provided a swirl of colour that cut through the greyness. And it was fun to fall into the madness of that world with Alice. The other movie also celebrated the world of the imagination, this time a crazy colourful world concocted by two little boys whose everyday lives were as grey as my days have been this week. In both films, the excitement of imagination wins out over the everyday dullness of a boring life.
I think I may be missing my funky furniture with all its bright colours.
So ... first the cheques, then the coffee, and then the pines ... but next, the first coat on Lily's high chair. A bright happy yellow, I think.
Several cold damp days with little evidence of sun combined with yet more tax bills from Quebec have had the effect of turning me into a wretched couch potato. Today the sun is streaming in through my windows and I feel much more energetic. As soon as I finish this post I intend to write some cheques and send them out, have a coffee with Rowboat Flo who is now back at the lake and feeding her feral cats herself again, and transplant some Mugo pines while the earth is still dampish enough to be easy to work.
During my doldrums I watched several movies. Yesterday ... Alice in Wonderland and Son of Rambow, both kids' movies intended for adults, and ones that succeeded in raising my spirits.
Alice provided a swirl of colour that cut through the greyness. And it was fun to fall into the madness of that world with Alice. The other movie also celebrated the world of the imagination, this time a crazy colourful world concocted by two little boys whose everyday lives were as grey as my days have been this week. In both films, the excitement of imagination wins out over the everyday dullness of a boring life.
I think I may be missing my funky furniture with all its bright colours.
So ... first the cheques, then the coffee, and then the pines ... but next, the first coat on Lily's high chair. A bright happy yellow, I think.
Monday, 14 June 2010
A hairy little heartening weekend ...
I seem to have been running from one social engagement to another all weekend ... and also bought (foolishly) a very expensive pair of German sandals and then returned them a day later.
But I did manage to watch one of the movies I picked up at my favourite little second hand store. It was called "Heart" and cost me $3.95. Unless you grew up in the fifties, it probably won't mean anything to you, but when I was fourteen, in 1954, a sixteen year old girl swam Lake Ontario. Her name was Marilyn Bell.
She learned to swim at the same place I did: the Sunnyside pool. And while my swimming in Lake Ontario was confined to short distances from the raft we neighbourhood kids knocked together, she swam 32 miles across that grey, cold, rough-waved lake.
Still at fourteen, and living by then in Halifax, I felt a sense of kinship with her.
"Heart" is her story. I am very glad it jumped off that dusty shelf into my hands. I like reading about people who struggle against tremendous odds.
Another hitherto unknown movie I bought recently was called "The Freedom Writers". It too was about a young woman who fought against terrible odds and succeeded; another movie that reminded me of my youth. This time, I was taken back to those years I spent teaching.
Today we have rain again and I have botched a loaf of banana bread. It is still edible, just not pretty. I used one of those silicone loaf pan things.
Ever since Kenya went to the groomer she has had dandruff. I am not sure whether the groomer used a shampoo she is allergic to, or whether she didn't rinse her properly or whether it had something to do with the fact that she shaved a section above her tail (something I would NEVER do and that is where the dandruff started). It is also possible that it was all just coincidental. But Kenya's coat is usually beautiful ... long and sleek and silky.
The first attempt to remedy the problem was almond oil applied topically. She seemed to enjoy it but she looked like a wet hen with spiked hair. After a few hours I bathed her with warm water from the hose and puppy shampoo and then rinsed her really well.
Then I decided to fix things from the inside out. I mixed olive oil into her food She liked the olive oil fine but I went on line to see if there was a better choice. They suggested Vitamin E or fish oil so I went to the health food store and bought something specially for dogs' coats and skin.
Her coat already looks better so I think I am on the right track.
But I did manage to watch one of the movies I picked up at my favourite little second hand store. It was called "Heart" and cost me $3.95. Unless you grew up in the fifties, it probably won't mean anything to you, but when I was fourteen, in 1954, a sixteen year old girl swam Lake Ontario. Her name was Marilyn Bell.
She learned to swim at the same place I did: the Sunnyside pool. And while my swimming in Lake Ontario was confined to short distances from the raft we neighbourhood kids knocked together, she swam 32 miles across that grey, cold, rough-waved lake.
Still at fourteen, and living by then in Halifax, I felt a sense of kinship with her.
"Heart" is her story. I am very glad it jumped off that dusty shelf into my hands. I like reading about people who struggle against tremendous odds.
Another hitherto unknown movie I bought recently was called "The Freedom Writers". It too was about a young woman who fought against terrible odds and succeeded; another movie that reminded me of my youth. This time, I was taken back to those years I spent teaching.
Today we have rain again and I have botched a loaf of banana bread. It is still edible, just not pretty. I used one of those silicone loaf pan things.
Ever since Kenya went to the groomer she has had dandruff. I am not sure whether the groomer used a shampoo she is allergic to, or whether she didn't rinse her properly or whether it had something to do with the fact that she shaved a section above her tail (something I would NEVER do and that is where the dandruff started). It is also possible that it was all just coincidental. But Kenya's coat is usually beautiful ... long and sleek and silky.
The first attempt to remedy the problem was almond oil applied topically. She seemed to enjoy it but she looked like a wet hen with spiked hair. After a few hours I bathed her with warm water from the hose and puppy shampoo and then rinsed her really well.
Then I decided to fix things from the inside out. I mixed olive oil into her food She liked the olive oil fine but I went on line to see if there was a better choice. They suggested Vitamin E or fish oil so I went to the health food store and bought something specially for dogs' coats and skin.
Her coat already looks better so I think I am on the right track.
Monday, 17 August 2009
These Lazy Hazy Days ...
Whew! What a weekend. Kenya and I spent almost all of it in and on the water. She just keeps on swimming and swimming even when I stop and pull the kayak up on shore or climb the ladder and dry off.
Last night she had a special treat. Erin and Aidan dropped in and so she had a BOY ... and not only a boy but a boy who is really a FISH and not only a boy who is really a fish but a BOY who is really a FISH who speaks DOG to play with.
Earlier in the day my nice neighbours who have two husky friends for Kenya to visit returned to the city leaving their cottage occupied by friends. I was painting a base coat of primer on a piece of furniture when I heard a woman's voice: "There's a big black bear under the deck. Oh, it's a dog. It's wagging its tail."
I went outside, paint brush in hand and called over, "Her name's Kenya. Just tell her to go home." They did and she did.
Even the raucous neighbours on the other side finally chilled out and calmed down after two solid days of partying. Yesterday they floated quietly around on air mattresses instead of shouting and drinking, shattering the tranquillity, and transforming the lake into a bar scene.
I am finally enjoying playing with the second cat chair ... that is because the dreary work is finished and I am applying decorative touches. The little crib has been fun to work with because all the surfaces are flat. When Tamarak and Carlos were here on Saturday I mentioned that it had been much easier to paint the small canvas for my business card than to paint the furniture, and Tamarak said (laconically), "Well, yeah. It's a flat surface." She refrained from saying, "DUH." Thank you Tammy!
I just read about a movie that sounds as if I would like it: Julia and Julie ... about Julia Child and a blogger called Julie. I have decided that I will go to town on the next day that is not wonderfully warm, or the first day I tire of the lake, and I will watch movies all afternoon. First Julia and Julie ... then The Time Traveler's Wife ... a whole afternoon of chick flicks. I haven't done that for a long time.
Last night she had a special treat. Erin and Aidan dropped in and so she had a BOY ... and not only a boy but a boy who is really a FISH and not only a boy who is really a fish but a BOY who is really a FISH who speaks DOG to play with.
Earlier in the day my nice neighbours who have two husky friends for Kenya to visit returned to the city leaving their cottage occupied by friends. I was painting a base coat of primer on a piece of furniture when I heard a woman's voice: "There's a big black bear under the deck. Oh, it's a dog. It's wagging its tail."
I went outside, paint brush in hand and called over, "Her name's Kenya. Just tell her to go home." They did and she did.
Even the raucous neighbours on the other side finally chilled out and calmed down after two solid days of partying. Yesterday they floated quietly around on air mattresses instead of shouting and drinking, shattering the tranquillity, and transforming the lake into a bar scene.
I am finally enjoying playing with the second cat chair ... that is because the dreary work is finished and I am applying decorative touches. The little crib has been fun to work with because all the surfaces are flat. When Tamarak and Carlos were here on Saturday I mentioned that it had been much easier to paint the small canvas for my business card than to paint the furniture, and Tamarak said (laconically), "Well, yeah. It's a flat surface." She refrained from saying, "DUH." Thank you Tammy!
I just read about a movie that sounds as if I would like it: Julia and Julie ... about Julia Child and a blogger called Julie. I have decided that I will go to town on the next day that is not wonderfully warm, or the first day I tire of the lake, and I will watch movies all afternoon. First Julia and Julie ... then The Time Traveler's Wife ... a whole afternoon of chick flicks. I haven't done that for a long time.
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