MONSTER (2003)
Charlize Theron completely deserved that Oscar. I hadn't seen this film till last night, but it's insanely good. Most of the credit goes to Theron for her heartbreaking performance and to writer/director Patty Jenkins for her research and sympathetic approach to the story. Based on the true story of serial killer Aileen Wuornos, the film follows Aileen's relationship with Selby, a younger woman, and her transition from prostitute to murderer. Her situation spirals once the murders become a habit, an easier way to make money, and end her relationship, eventually landing her on death row. Wuornos' actions aren't condoned, but her decision making process is shown as clearly as possible; Jenkins portrays her as no heartless killer, but a trapped, forsaken woman fighting for survival. This is a painful, difficult movie to watch, but extremely worthwhile as a character piece.
9 out of 10.
6.10.2007
Review: Flesh and Blood
Flesh and Blood- Michael Cunningham
I read The Hours last summer and was drawn to Cunningham's characters and attention to human emotion and experience; life as a series of reactions to commonplace situations. Everything is more complicated than it seems. This is apparent in his second novel, Flesh and Blood. He chronicles generations of the Stassos family, each chapter a year, but focuses like a selective memory on specific important moments. The beauty of his writing is his characters' weaknesses, their flaws and frustrations. The difficulties of family life down the line are varied but inexplicably identical at heart; selfishness and infidelity are human and difficult to resist. Cunningham captures these, as well as a host of smaller trials, each one a personal struggle. This theme is saddening, but reassuring in its familiarity. Everyone, at some point, is forced to create a facade of someone who is OK. This is a story of those who live behind that facade.
I read The Hours last summer and was drawn to Cunningham's characters and attention to human emotion and experience; life as a series of reactions to commonplace situations. Everything is more complicated than it seems. This is apparent in his second novel, Flesh and Blood. He chronicles generations of the Stassos family, each chapter a year, but focuses like a selective memory on specific important moments. The beauty of his writing is his characters' weaknesses, their flaws and frustrations. The difficulties of family life down the line are varied but inexplicably identical at heart; selfishness and infidelity are human and difficult to resist. Cunningham captures these, as well as a host of smaller trials, each one a personal struggle. This theme is saddening, but reassuring in its familiarity. Everyone, at some point, is forced to create a facade of someone who is OK. This is a story of those who live behind that facade.
4.25.2007
Rejuvenation.
It might be the fact that I actually slept last night, or that I’m on my second cup of coffee, but I feel great. This week I’ll probably sleep every other night, so I’m reveling in my satisfaction. I’m sure part of it is related to the fact that I haven’t been to classes today. I woke up this morning after having pressed my snooze in my sleep/semi-consciousness for about half an hour.
Speaking of doing things in one’s sleep, on some shitty daytime show this morning there were guys on who have sex with their wives while they’re sleeping. I’m talking middle of the night, don’t remember it in the morning, on the verge of rape, sex. It’s messed up. The one wife was literally concerned for her safety because her husband was getting so violent. Then, I was talking with my roommate and she said last night her man was being all mean when she got in bed and woke him up. She was trying to get him to cuddle and he snapped at her and curled up in a ball. This morning he didn’t remember any of it. I wonder what it is that makes the brain active enough during sleep to produce speech and move the body but fails to save the information as memory. It’s frightening, though I haven’t done anything extreme in my sleep. I sleepwalked once that I know of when I was younger; all I did was get in my parents’ bed. According to the story, they asked me what I was doing, and I said I didn’t know. Then they said, “Do you want to go back to bed?” I said yes, then got up and went to bed. They were simple actions and I was in familiar surroundings but if that’s possible then really anything could happen. I haven’t shown a proclivity for it overall, though, so I’m not worried for myself, unless my future husband is prone to sleep activity; then I’ll bring a rape whistle to bed.
Anyways, I woke up late and desperately needed a shower, so by the time I got out it was time to leave the house, and I really didn’t feel like rushing all over and most likely forgetting something important, so I slowed down and made myself breakfast, which was wonderful. That’s probably part of my good feeling now too; I never eat breakfast.
I have yoga tonight, which is one of my favorite parts of the week. I’ve been going all semester and will definitely miss it this summer. It’s not enough to get fit, because I've only been going once a week, but I feel wonderful afterwards and pleasantly sore the next day. Is it strange that I like being sore? I think I enjoy it because it reminds me that I exercised and I can feel all my muscles in a really interesting awareness of my body.
Maybe I’ll actually do some work at work. Shocking.
Speaking of doing things in one’s sleep, on some shitty daytime show this morning there were guys on who have sex with their wives while they’re sleeping. I’m talking middle of the night, don’t remember it in the morning, on the verge of rape, sex. It’s messed up. The one wife was literally concerned for her safety because her husband was getting so violent. Then, I was talking with my roommate and she said last night her man was being all mean when she got in bed and woke him up. She was trying to get him to cuddle and he snapped at her and curled up in a ball. This morning he didn’t remember any of it. I wonder what it is that makes the brain active enough during sleep to produce speech and move the body but fails to save the information as memory. It’s frightening, though I haven’t done anything extreme in my sleep. I sleepwalked once that I know of when I was younger; all I did was get in my parents’ bed. According to the story, they asked me what I was doing, and I said I didn’t know. Then they said, “Do you want to go back to bed?” I said yes, then got up and went to bed. They were simple actions and I was in familiar surroundings but if that’s possible then really anything could happen. I haven’t shown a proclivity for it overall, though, so I’m not worried for myself, unless my future husband is prone to sleep activity; then I’ll bring a rape whistle to bed.
Anyways, I woke up late and desperately needed a shower, so by the time I got out it was time to leave the house, and I really didn’t feel like rushing all over and most likely forgetting something important, so I slowed down and made myself breakfast, which was wonderful. That’s probably part of my good feeling now too; I never eat breakfast.
I have yoga tonight, which is one of my favorite parts of the week. I’ve been going all semester and will definitely miss it this summer. It’s not enough to get fit, because I've only been going once a week, but I feel wonderful afterwards and pleasantly sore the next day. Is it strange that I like being sore? I think I enjoy it because it reminds me that I exercised and I can feel all my muscles in a really interesting awareness of my body.
Maybe I’ll actually do some work at work. Shocking.
4.23.2007
Thoughts
Yes, it's been a while since I've posted, and no, I'm not going to make the ubiquitous apology for falling behind the times because, let's face it, my three readers don't need another excuse to sit in front of their computers, especially these days when it's so beautiful outside. I'd rather spare them from my insane run-on sentences.
Still, here I am at work with nothing better to do, so I'm writing. I'm going to be at the computer anyways, whether it's reading catty commentaries about celebrity fashion (gofugyourself.typepad.com) or myspacing... That was such a shameless plug, but it's fantastic. Check it.
I'm craving the outdoors, despite my existing sunburn and my mountain of work to do. It's so tempting to wait till it's dark to set up in the sewing lab, but that's ridiculous. I have so much due tomorrow. This weekend has already been so relaxed; Friday night was camping in Jersey, celebrating 4/20... you get the picture. Saturday I was by the lake all day. I'm trying to get my sunny days in when I have time. I know my summer will be too busy for a lot of time outside. I'm working two jobs, at the Co-op again with the Hanover Inn added on. I'll be hosting to start and hopefully getting bartending and serving experience on the side, which is exactly what I need to get a better job here at school. School office work doesn't cut it.
I've been thinking a lot recently about life/career moves. I still have about a year and half to think about it seriously, but... WHAT. A YEAR AND A HALF. KILL ME. No, but really I don't even know if I want to stay in fashion design. It's meaningful to me because it's a form of artistic expression, and I love the education I'm getting, but in the long run it's meaningless and temporary. I have trouble justifying its importance in the grand scheme of things. It's improving people's lives, but only aesthetically. I'm not a "change the world" kind of person, because that seems unrealistic, but I want my work to positively affect people more than a beautifully cut dress or a tailored jacket. I've always considered using recycled fabrics, basing my company or business on that idea, but what is that? That's just an improvement on a career in fashion, bringing sustainability into the equation, attempting to justify my lack of purpose. So I'd sell a few dresses made of recycled fabric. OK. This makes the job sound easy; I know it would never be simple. That, if anything, is what I've learned so far. However, the difficulty doesn't condone the end result; it might even make the entire venture more ridiculous because I'd be working hard and long to create something in which I can't believe. Fashion is a materialistic field; it thrives on trends and seasonal fashions to drive the market. This is good news for a future fashion designer, because there will always be demand for someone who is talented and innovative, but it rubs me the wrong way. My values are increasingly opposed to this disposable American lifestyle, full of consumeristic greed. I could go off on this, but I'm running out of time. Basically, I'm rethinking my life right now. It was bound to happen.
Still, here I am at work with nothing better to do, so I'm writing. I'm going to be at the computer anyways, whether it's reading catty commentaries about celebrity fashion (gofugyourself.typepad.com) or myspacing... That was such a shameless plug, but it's fantastic. Check it.
I'm craving the outdoors, despite my existing sunburn and my mountain of work to do. It's so tempting to wait till it's dark to set up in the sewing lab, but that's ridiculous. I have so much due tomorrow. This weekend has already been so relaxed; Friday night was camping in Jersey, celebrating 4/20... you get the picture. Saturday I was by the lake all day. I'm trying to get my sunny days in when I have time. I know my summer will be too busy for a lot of time outside. I'm working two jobs, at the Co-op again with the Hanover Inn added on. I'll be hosting to start and hopefully getting bartending and serving experience on the side, which is exactly what I need to get a better job here at school. School office work doesn't cut it.
I've been thinking a lot recently about life/career moves. I still have about a year and half to think about it seriously, but... WHAT. A YEAR AND A HALF. KILL ME. No, but really I don't even know if I want to stay in fashion design. It's meaningful to me because it's a form of artistic expression, and I love the education I'm getting, but in the long run it's meaningless and temporary. I have trouble justifying its importance in the grand scheme of things. It's improving people's lives, but only aesthetically. I'm not a "change the world" kind of person, because that seems unrealistic, but I want my work to positively affect people more than a beautifully cut dress or a tailored jacket. I've always considered using recycled fabrics, basing my company or business on that idea, but what is that? That's just an improvement on a career in fashion, bringing sustainability into the equation, attempting to justify my lack of purpose. So I'd sell a few dresses made of recycled fabric. OK. This makes the job sound easy; I know it would never be simple. That, if anything, is what I've learned so far. However, the difficulty doesn't condone the end result; it might even make the entire venture more ridiculous because I'd be working hard and long to create something in which I can't believe. Fashion is a materialistic field; it thrives on trends and seasonal fashions to drive the market. This is good news for a future fashion designer, because there will always be demand for someone who is talented and innovative, but it rubs me the wrong way. My values are increasingly opposed to this disposable American lifestyle, full of consumeristic greed. I could go off on this, but I'm running out of time. Basically, I'm rethinking my life right now. It was bound to happen.
3.04.2007
i wanna hear that fucking noise
repost from myspace. i'm not sure why.
i'm flying to utah on friday. unbelievably excited.
last night i was cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom and suddenly got one of those feelings that i'm inhabiting someone else's body. it lasted for a few minutes, during which i couldn't believe everything i've experienced and am about to experience is actually happening to me. it's not that i'm having these wild times or anything, but still. incredible. i'm in philadelphia, pennsylvania. going to college for fashion design. how is this real? my work is drawing and sewing, which i LOVE. i do things like go grocery shopping and clean all on my own! ridiculous!
i think partially this was sparked by something ashley said a few days ago about being an adult. am i? in that moment, i was a kid playing a grown-up, scrubbing someone else's kitchen floor. the feeling is so hard to articulate. i just had no idea how i got there, how i've gotten here. why am i eating salad when i could have cake for dinner? why do i do my homework? where has this discipline come from, because it obviously can't come from me? somehow, it does.
i need to remember- i'm alive, i'm right here, i'm making decisions and it's human, painful, wonderful, scary, and beautiful. i need to inhabit myself more powerfully, remember that this moment, and this one now, are never going to happen again. one thought passes, i blink, and it's all completely new. experience is all i have.
i'm flying to utah on friday. unbelievably excited.
last night i was cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom and suddenly got one of those feelings that i'm inhabiting someone else's body. it lasted for a few minutes, during which i couldn't believe everything i've experienced and am about to experience is actually happening to me. it's not that i'm having these wild times or anything, but still. incredible. i'm in philadelphia, pennsylvania. going to college for fashion design. how is this real? my work is drawing and sewing, which i LOVE. i do things like go grocery shopping and clean all on my own! ridiculous!
i think partially this was sparked by something ashley said a few days ago about being an adult. am i? in that moment, i was a kid playing a grown-up, scrubbing someone else's kitchen floor. the feeling is so hard to articulate. i just had no idea how i got there, how i've gotten here. why am i eating salad when i could have cake for dinner? why do i do my homework? where has this discipline come from, because it obviously can't come from me? somehow, it does.
i need to remember- i'm alive, i'm right here, i'm making decisions and it's human, painful, wonderful, scary, and beautiful. i need to inhabit myself more powerfully, remember that this moment, and this one now, are never going to happen again. one thought passes, i blink, and it's all completely new. experience is all i have.
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