I heard a radio interview yesterday on KCRW with Steven Soderbergh, whose new film "Che" has just been released. Elvis Mitchell of The Treatment made the comment that he thought the film was about characters making choices too late.
Steven then quoted a line from his film "Solaris" written by a friend of his:
"There are no answers, only choices."
I really resonnated with that.
He went on to say, "...at the end of the day...all that you do have are your choices and those are the only answers you’re going to get....You’re never going to find the pattern in pi. It’s not going to happen. You’re probably be happier if you accept that..."
Yes, I can relate; hence my sense when I started this blog, of how important the choices I make in the years to come are.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Revolutionary Road -- had the "look"
We saw Revolutionary Road this weekend. Though it was an excellent film -- acting, locale, sets, costumes were all wonderful and perfect for the time -- I found it very disturbing. And, not because it was the story of a very unhappy marriage. Here's why:
The Look
She looked toward him
from the counter
and offered him a glass of orange juice
freshly squeezed.
She was fully dressed in blouse and skirt
and little wedgie shoes,
Her makeup was perfect
Her long blonde hair just so.
She then invited him to sit down
at the table.
“Scrambled or fried eggs?” she asked
He said whatever is easier, scrambled
probably, and unbuttoning
his suit jacket sat down,
looking at her all the while.
She stood at the sink scrambling and
when the eggs were cooked
she sat down
opposite him and they ate.
Not much talking, mostly eating, and looking
closely at each other’s eyes.
He got up to go.
“That’s the best breakfast you ever made
for me,” he said.
And before he left, he asked her
if she was still mad
at him from the night before.
They had yelled at each other
and showed so much hate
that she ran off into the woods
beyond their yard.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed,
“I need to think,” and he went to bed
alone.
But this morning there was complete calm.
Her eyes clear, her face luminous,
showing none of last night’s horrific pain.
She had the look that said
she had found her
peace. And, it didn’t include him.
I saw that look once before
on my son’s face, the night before
he took his own life.
So I knew what was coming.
It was eerie to be so certain
where this story
was going.
As she said, “No, I don’t hate you,” she took
his face in her hands
and smiled slightly.
She then walked him
to the door and stood there
until he drove away.
She turned and went inside.
That was the last time
he would see her alive.
The Look
She looked toward him
from the counter
and offered him a glass of orange juice
freshly squeezed.
She was fully dressed in blouse and skirt
and little wedgie shoes,
Her makeup was perfect
Her long blonde hair just so.
She then invited him to sit down
at the table.
“Scrambled or fried eggs?” she asked
He said whatever is easier, scrambled
probably, and unbuttoning
his suit jacket sat down,
looking at her all the while.
She stood at the sink scrambling and
when the eggs were cooked
she sat down
opposite him and they ate.
Not much talking, mostly eating, and looking
closely at each other’s eyes.
He got up to go.
“That’s the best breakfast you ever made
for me,” he said.
And before he left, he asked her
if she was still mad
at him from the night before.
They had yelled at each other
and showed so much hate
that she ran off into the woods
beyond their yard.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed,
“I need to think,” and he went to bed
alone.
But this morning there was complete calm.
Her eyes clear, her face luminous,
showing none of last night’s horrific pain.
She had the look that said
she had found her
peace. And, it didn’t include him.
I saw that look once before
on my son’s face, the night before
he took his own life.
So I knew what was coming.
It was eerie to be so certain
where this story
was going.
As she said, “No, I don’t hate you,” she took
his face in her hands
and smiled slightly.
She then walked him
to the door and stood there
until he drove away.
She turned and went inside.
That was the last time
he would see her alive.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Facebook mania
Facebook recently became part of my life. What I like most about it is that friends, both old and new, have literally come out of the woodwork. It's a great way to catch up and keep in touch -- and lots of fun.
Facebook Friends
They come from all over
out of the woodwork, the
alumni annals, work,
and family – both distant
and close.
At first I thought
Facebook was just for kids – a way
to keep in touch by sending
goofy gifts, pokes, super pokes,
tags, photos and invites.
And, now I’m surrounded
with friends of all ages –
some I knew in the dark ages
at high school, some spent time
with me in the South Pacific.
many are my children’s friends
and many are work
colleagues – past and present.
I’ve got poet friends, hometown friends,
relative friends, adopted daughter friends,
and friends’ children as friends.
We eagerly write on each other’s walls
send hearts, flowers, and plants – and
little cute fishes
for any occasion imaginable.
We join causes, become rah-rah fans,
and we report in almost daily
about what we’re up to
right now.
It’s fun,
really
it’s fun.
and, I never thought I would
get so hooked.
Facebook Friends
They come from all over
out of the woodwork, the
alumni annals, work,
and family – both distant
and close.
At first I thought
Facebook was just for kids – a way
to keep in touch by sending
goofy gifts, pokes, super pokes,
tags, photos and invites.
And, now I’m surrounded
with friends of all ages –
some I knew in the dark ages
at high school, some spent time
with me in the South Pacific.
many are my children’s friends
and many are work
colleagues – past and present.
I’ve got poet friends, hometown friends,
relative friends, adopted daughter friends,
and friends’ children as friends.
We eagerly write on each other’s walls
send hearts, flowers, and plants – and
little cute fishes
for any occasion imaginable.
We join causes, become rah-rah fans,
and we report in almost daily
about what we’re up to
right now.
It’s fun,
really
it’s fun.
and, I never thought I would
get so hooked.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Praying -- or whatever you call it
My next door neighbor found out sometime in middle November that she has Stage 3 cancer of the pancreas. She has an inoperable tumor the size of an egg in the center of her pancreas that the doctors say had been growing for the last year and a half.
We had dinner with her and her husband last night, and I felt like I was an inquisitor. But, I wanted to know if there was this kind of cancer in her family. It just seemed to me such a rare thing to happen to someone so seemingly healthy and so young.
What she said was very interesting.
She had none of the risk triggers for pancreatic cancer – no family history of cancer of the pancreas, she doesn't eat fatty food, she is not overweight, she has no diabetes, she's not an Ashkenazy Jew, and she was/is an avid exerciser. But, there was one thing that links her to this malady – she has a history of ovarian cancer in her family that is linked to breast cancer, which is one of the risks for getting cancer of the pancreas. Now that seems a little far fetched and circular to me, but how can I argue with the results? Here is a woman less than 60 years old who has it.
Fortunately her doctor has a very good reputation. Fortunately she hasn’t lost her talkativeness or her sense of humor -- even though she's lost some weight and is beginning to lose her hair. Keeping a sense of humor is a big plus in recovering from any illness. Also she has a good positive attitude -- one of the things that kept my brother going for 20 years after his cancer diagnosis.
I just feel so sad for her. And, the best I can think of doing for her right now is pray for her recovery, at least pray the best I can – I’ve never been known to be good at praying to anyone or anything. And, even though I know all too well that hoping is not a plan, I hope (and pray) that all of the things she’s going through to get well will work. Imagine getting chemotherapy doses dripping directly into your body 24/7 for 7 days in a row over and over again! No one, absolutely no one, deserves to get so sick. She is still young. She has a family and two beautiful granddaughters. She should have a lot of years to go.
You go, girl! Get well and hurry up about it!!!
We had dinner with her and her husband last night, and I felt like I was an inquisitor. But, I wanted to know if there was this kind of cancer in her family. It just seemed to me such a rare thing to happen to someone so seemingly healthy and so young.
What she said was very interesting.
She had none of the risk triggers for pancreatic cancer – no family history of cancer of the pancreas, she doesn't eat fatty food, she is not overweight, she has no diabetes, she's not an Ashkenazy Jew, and she was/is an avid exerciser. But, there was one thing that links her to this malady – she has a history of ovarian cancer in her family that is linked to breast cancer, which is one of the risks for getting cancer of the pancreas. Now that seems a little far fetched and circular to me, but how can I argue with the results? Here is a woman less than 60 years old who has it.
Fortunately her doctor has a very good reputation. Fortunately she hasn’t lost her talkativeness or her sense of humor -- even though she's lost some weight and is beginning to lose her hair. Keeping a sense of humor is a big plus in recovering from any illness. Also she has a good positive attitude -- one of the things that kept my brother going for 20 years after his cancer diagnosis.
I just feel so sad for her. And, the best I can think of doing for her right now is pray for her recovery, at least pray the best I can – I’ve never been known to be good at praying to anyone or anything. And, even though I know all too well that hoping is not a plan, I hope (and pray) that all of the things she’s going through to get well will work. Imagine getting chemotherapy doses dripping directly into your body 24/7 for 7 days in a row over and over again! No one, absolutely no one, deserves to get so sick. She is still young. She has a family and two beautiful granddaughters. She should have a lot of years to go.
You go, girl! Get well and hurry up about it!!!
Monday, January 5, 2009
The Emerging Goddess
Some time ago, I wrote some poems for a friend's book of photography, called The Emerging Goddess. I didn't know much about the history of goddesses at the time he asked me to write the poems, so I did a little reading up. Here's what I found out.
Those Ubiquitous Goddesses
Those mythological girls sure had it covered.
They were everywhere.
Every body of water imaginable –
the sea, the ocean, and all the freshwater streams, rivers, and lakes
even the springs, fountains, and marshes had a goddess.
They were the muses of creativity
inspiring lyrics, music, comedy, tragedy, dance, choral song,
astronomy, poetry, hymns, and epics.
They could have been epics in themselves.
They liked to go around in threes –
the Triple Goddess – maiden, mother, and crone,
the Three Virgins,
the Charities our goddesses of beauty,
the Furies our fearsome crones,
the Fates who controlled the time of birth,
how lives turned out,
and when it was time to die.
It didn’t do to tempt the Fates.
Some of the other threesomes weren’t so nice
or even attractive:
the Gorgons whose ruler was Medusa –
you know the one with the snaky hair,
the wise Gray sisters.
Poor things from Day One
had to share one tooth and one eye,
And those hungry Harpies
went around a half bird and half woman.
But mostly they were protectors
of all creations on earth,
of the moon, the days of weeks, the stars, the light,
the hearth and home,
the harvest and fields.
One goddess protected marriage
another protected prostitutes
another protected childbirth
and another protected young women.
Now figure all that out.
Wherever our goddess of spring walked
flowers bloomed.
But this poor soul
had to live as queen of the underworld half the year
just because she ate one pomegranate seed.
Even her mother,
the goddess of all life on earth,
couldn’t protect her.
Some goddesses were quite independent.
They hunted,
they went to war,
and one so cold and vain
was the goddess of love and beauty.
She lusted after the god of war.
What a combo that must have been.
Still others protected wisdom,
weaving, and the soul.
The soul goddess
married the god of love.
A most fortuitous union.
True, it’s all a myth.
Yet you can’t deny
it’s all about life lessons
and what we’re ready to learn.
So, let’s show those girls
their work was not for naught,
that we’re up to the challenge
to reach our potential,
to claim our destiny,
to protect and rule the world and beyond.
Those Ubiquitous Goddesses
Those mythological girls sure had it covered.
They were everywhere.
Every body of water imaginable –
the sea, the ocean, and all the freshwater streams, rivers, and lakes
even the springs, fountains, and marshes had a goddess.
They were the muses of creativity
inspiring lyrics, music, comedy, tragedy, dance, choral song,
astronomy, poetry, hymns, and epics.
They could have been epics in themselves.
They liked to go around in threes –
the Triple Goddess – maiden, mother, and crone,
the Three Virgins,
the Charities our goddesses of beauty,
the Furies our fearsome crones,
the Fates who controlled the time of birth,
how lives turned out,
and when it was time to die.
It didn’t do to tempt the Fates.
Some of the other threesomes weren’t so nice
or even attractive:
the Gorgons whose ruler was Medusa –
you know the one with the snaky hair,
the wise Gray sisters.
Poor things from Day One
had to share one tooth and one eye,
And those hungry Harpies
went around a half bird and half woman.
But mostly they were protectors
of all creations on earth,
of the moon, the days of weeks, the stars, the light,
the hearth and home,
the harvest and fields.
One goddess protected marriage
another protected prostitutes
another protected childbirth
and another protected young women.
Now figure all that out.
Wherever our goddess of spring walked
flowers bloomed.
But this poor soul
had to live as queen of the underworld half the year
just because she ate one pomegranate seed.
Even her mother,
the goddess of all life on earth,
couldn’t protect her.
Some goddesses were quite independent.
They hunted,
they went to war,
and one so cold and vain
was the goddess of love and beauty.
She lusted after the god of war.
What a combo that must have been.
Still others protected wisdom,
weaving, and the soul.
The soul goddess
married the god of love.
A most fortuitous union.
True, it’s all a myth.
Yet you can’t deny
it’s all about life lessons
and what we’re ready to learn.
So, let’s show those girls
their work was not for naught,
that we’re up to the challenge
to reach our potential,
to claim our destiny,
to protect and rule the world and beyond.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
More movies
We've been catching up on our movie going -- taking advantage of the time off during the holidays and trying to get in some of the movies that will likely be up for some kind of award next month.
Since Christmas Day we've seen:
Frost/Nixon
Yes Man
Gran Torino
Plus a couple on Netflix:
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.
Also, right before Christmas we saw:
Seven Pounds
Well in my humble opinion Frost/Nixon was no where as good as Slumdog Millionaire and Milk, and Yes Man was a real loser. It was a great way to have a light time on New Year's Eve, but it wasn't even particularly funny. Seven Pounds had a pretty good script, but it was depressing as hell.
But, I will put Gran Torino up there with my best picks for this round of viewing. Clint is at his best, playing the part of a tough guy -- and a really old tough guy at that. Even so, he pulls it off perfectly. I went thinking this may well be my last chance to see him on the big screen again, and didn't expect to see anything special. So, I was pleasantly surprised how great this film is. Surely Clint has a few more films in him. And, if he does I'll be back at the theater to watch him again.
Our movie days may be a little more limited in the weeks leading up to the Oscars, but I do have a bunch on my list yet to see as soon as I can:
The Reader
Revolutionary Road
Last Chance Harvey
Doubt
Oh, well the list goes on and on. And, if we don't make it to the movie theater, there's always Netflix. We'll probably have to catch Australia that way since it's disappeared from the theaters already.
Since Christmas Day we've seen:
Frost/Nixon
Yes Man
Gran Torino
Plus a couple on Netflix:
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.
Also, right before Christmas we saw:
Seven Pounds
Well in my humble opinion Frost/Nixon was no where as good as Slumdog Millionaire and Milk, and Yes Man was a real loser. It was a great way to have a light time on New Year's Eve, but it wasn't even particularly funny. Seven Pounds had a pretty good script, but it was depressing as hell.
But, I will put Gran Torino up there with my best picks for this round of viewing. Clint is at his best, playing the part of a tough guy -- and a really old tough guy at that. Even so, he pulls it off perfectly. I went thinking this may well be my last chance to see him on the big screen again, and didn't expect to see anything special. So, I was pleasantly surprised how great this film is. Surely Clint has a few more films in him. And, if he does I'll be back at the theater to watch him again.
Our movie days may be a little more limited in the weeks leading up to the Oscars, but I do have a bunch on my list yet to see as soon as I can:
The Reader
Revolutionary Road
Last Chance Harvey
Doubt
Oh, well the list goes on and on. And, if we don't make it to the movie theater, there's always Netflix. We'll probably have to catch Australia that way since it's disappeared from the theaters already.
Friday, January 2, 2009
It's that time of the year again!
Every year, after the holiday parties and new year's eve toasts, I quit alcohol cold turkey for the entire month of January. I don't do it to prove that I'm not an alcoholic -- really, I'm normally just a moderate wine drinker -- I do it because I want to clear my body of the alcohol toxins that I know I draw in during all the end of year celebrations. Also, it just feels good. In fact, so good, after that first January that I swore off alcohol, I decided to stop for another month during the year as well.
So, for the last 15 years or so, I'm alcohol free in January and July. It's a great break, and it even helps me lose a pound or two in the process.
So, for the last 15 years or so, I'm alcohol free in January and July. It's a great break, and it even helps me lose a pound or two in the process.
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