must-see

Recently I’ve been drawn to international films. The three four that have been pressing on my mind lately are: The Constant Gardener, City of God, Syriana, and a late addition, The Interpreter. I’m not sure exactly why these films captivate me, but I can make a guess. My guess would be because of the Truth that these films contain. I was reading an article earlier today talking about how this has been the year of the ‘message’ movies. I quite like this description because it means filmmakers are actually trying to speak. Not only speaking, but speaking at an international level.

I’ll start with The Constant Gardener, directed by Fernando Meirelles. I love this film first and foremost because it speaks to my heart. Mainly Rachel Weisz’s character, Tessa. She is an idealist, a relentless pursuer of her cause who takes on the seemingly impossible task of fighting the AIDS epidemic in Africa. But more than that, she is fighting for it’s people. In the movie she targets the pharmaceutical companies who take advantage of Africans living in poverty, the people who don’t really have a choice. It is a beautiful story of love. She fights for the people who are too weak to fight for themselves. She sacrifices herself for those that she barely knows, so that they may live better lives.

Then there is the City of God, also a film by Fernando Meirelles. I also appreciate this story for the raw truth that it portrays. This movie tells the story of the City of God, a real suburb of Rio de Janeiro. Specifically it focuses on “Rocket” a young man growing up in the unreal circumstances and his attempt to find refuge from it. He finds his outlet through photography. Photojournalism primarily. He believes that others should know what is happening where he lives. That, ideally, if we invite the outside world into our lives and allow them to see the circumstances we live in, we may in some way be helping the cause of making it better. I love this film because photography is his outlet. Through the lens of a camera he can express himself. At the push of a button things come into focus, and you are allowed to ‘see’ and create so that others may know.

Syriana was the next film I saw. This film, told by master storyteller Stephen Gaghan, is by far mostly an informative film. Cluing us in as to the reality of the oil trade in our world. I enjoyed this film because of the perspectives from which it was told. As Americans we are never allowed, or care to see the impact that we have on other parts of the world. This film shows how we are determining the fate of other people’s lives around the world. It shows us the impact that our decisions have. We are allowed to experience a worldview that we otherwise would have never known, or would never have even thought about. It makes us think outside of ourselves, outside of our country, something we as Americans hardly ever do. Regardless of the political agenda of this movie, there are certain universal truths that we have to recognize.

A latecomer to the film post is The Interpreter. I just saw it this past weekend, so it barely made it in. This film is by director Sydney Pollack. (There are some really great special feature interviews on the DVD with him giving a lot of insight into his style of filmmaking!) Back to the film. Yet another international thriller. A tagline I read somewhere for the movie is “the truth needs no interpretation”. I enjoyed this movie because of the emphasis that Nicole Kidman’s character places on peaceful means of change. She emphatically states she is into quiet diplomacy. She believes that words can incite change. The title alone evokes a reference to language. “Nations have gone to war because they’ve misinterpreted each other”, she says. It is her belief in words and language that I love so much. For humans to interact we must use these tools. They are imperative for us to communicate with each other. We learn about the world and other people through words. We teach and understand through words, we can hurt and praise with words. I believe our society has lost this sense of meaning and truth with regard to words. People today are so quick to use them for the wrong agendas.

Ultimately, I recommend you watch these movies and decide for yourself. Try to discover how they ‘speak’ to you. Not only do I love the fact that these movies are entertainment, but also that they make you think. They use the medium of film, a form of art, to convey truth. art + truth = beauty. None of which, ironically, can be boiled down to an equation.

"The gunfire around us makes it hard to hear. But the human voice is different from other sounds. It can be heard over noises that bury everything else. Even when it's not shouting. Even if it's just a whisper. Even the lowest whisper can be heard-- over armies... when it's telling the truth." -The Interpreter

blue couch

IMG_3254.JPG, originally uploaded by faded.memories..

i actually wrote this on saturday.

Barefooted, I sit Indian-style on my blue leather couch (a hand-me-down, from a previous roommate who did not want to move it out). my computer sits before me, and I alternate glancing from the screen to looking out the window. They called for snow today. It’s been ‘flurrying’. I always get too excited about the snow. The ipod connected to our stereo plays in the background. A mellow selection was chosen this morning, given the state of the atmospheric conditions it seemed appropriate. It’s noon now. I thought about doing laundry earlier, but all the machines were full. I thought about showering earlier, but am just lazy. I also thought about going to get some film developed, going downtown, looking for a new Delkin Devices CARDBUS 32-BIT HI SPEED compact flash reader and I glanced at my book earlier, but nothing has happened yet. I did, however, manage to make coffee and pancakes this morning (they were wheat pancakes too, you should try them, I was pleasantly surprised).

so now here I sit writing an entry for my blog. At least it’s something productive, I guess. My right leg just feel asleep, though.

a little place called weaverville

, originally uploaded by faded.memories..

the story of weaverville.

So the trip my mom, dad and I took to Weaverville, nc has its roots set in time. A few years ago, my mom, knowing my love for coffee and the vessels that hold it, bought me a hand made coffee mug to add to my collection. And I fell in love with this mug. I loved it as much as you can love an inanimate object. It was beautiful, the color was the deepest most radiant blue, and its shape fit my hand perfectly. And it was the following Christmas on a cold wintry day, as I was working on a puzzle (one of the ones that comes on top of the tin of popcorn that my sister buys me, which has now become a tradition) that the unspeakable happened. (if you are an art lover and are squeamish, you may not want to look at the following pictures.)



as i was searching for a piece of the puzzle i accidentally knocked my mug clear off the table, and i watched as my mug fell in slow motion to the floor. i was devastated. I just could not believe it. I was in shock. I immediately called my mom, and told her what happened. We shared in our regret and vowed to find another one.

So, this past winterbreak, found us in the car on the way to Mangum Pottery Studios in Weaverville, North Carolina. Of course we had never heard of Weaverville, and now only knew its whereabouts thanks to google maps. After driving an hour and a half through mostly rural and mountainous south and north Carolina we arrived. It was a great little town too. A very quaint town with main street running right down the middle. We headed straight to the studio and immediately started the search for the ‘replacement’ mug. I was quite settled on the fact that I would never find a mug that had the beauty and character of the first one, but… after minutes of searching through their display at the front of their studio, my eye caught one. And the rest is, as they say, history. I guess it won’t ever have the same qualities as the first one, but it sure is a good replacement.



so, this one is now the new workhorse for coffee drinking. i haven't been able to start a puzzle again, though. the traumatic experience previously mentioned scarred me deep. i don't think i could yet subject my new mug to the rigor of working a puzzle. all in good time i suppose.

you may be asking what happened to the 'old' mug? well, it has found a new home. it was since reassembled from the found pieces and adorns one of my book shelves.



a memory of good times from years past.