I think myself arrogant, and it does not help that others around me feed my pride with excessive, and at times unnecessary, praise. Perhaps, this is the reason why I am as hard as I can be with myself; if a person were to ask me about who I am, I would not know what to say. However, I can talk about myself if I start by telling you one of my many flaws. Still, why do I feel like I am an ugly person? Why do I feel like I need to be humbled down?
Artists are in constant need for understanding. We want to be acknowledged, we want to be seen. We want to be recognized, we want to be accepted. More than that, we want to receive the highest form of praise a person could ever get. As human beings, I think we already seek all these things; only artists want it even more. Perhaps, reason why some of the masters were –beyond their comprehension- so dramatic, even to the point of being tormented; even to the point of taking their lives. I do not suffer such arrogance –if arrogance it is. My punishment for having so much pride is not as severe, for I am not, and will never come (only wish to) close to being as great as the masters. I do not live a dark and lonely live; I do not suffer a one-sided tragic love. My life is simple, and common… and that is damn good. I just tell myself everyday, that I am not such a great person; that I must work at improving my character, for I lack one important thing: sincerity!
Music is the best tool for inspiration, in my opinion. Adagio in G Minor, by Tomaso Giovanni Albinoni, is the kind of music that inspires a certain darkness within me. I don’t say this thinking that I will turn into a bad person because of this music, but it makes me sad… to be honest, it makes me feel as if I have done terrible things, and now I must repent for them.
The next video I will share is tittled “Adagio”, an animated ten minutes film by Russian animator Garry Bardin. The film is based on the short story Danko and His Fiery Heart, writing by Maxim Gorky. Although the film is based on the story of Danko, to me, it is more a parable on how history repeats itself. It is not religious, although some of us might see it that way, but surely it portraits all that history has taught us.
Perhaps, one day, I will be able to create something as pure as this work of art… one day, when I have learned to be more like Danko.
I heard someone once ask another person, what was so important about art. I was younger at the time, and didn’t quite know how to put my words together in a way that would make others understand what I was saying (okay I still have trouble doing that, but never mind) I can’t remember how the conversation started, even less how it ended. I do remember though, thinking about what art was for me, and how others perceive it. I never really thought that there were other people with a different perception of art, and that some even think its meaningless. Well, today I have an answer for them, for the ones who think less of art. I would say, without art we are nonexistent, as art is everything that is creation, and so are we.
Art is the most wonderful thing out there. Of course I would be saying this, I am an artist. But rather than to see it this way, I prefer to give myself a little more credit and think that even if I weren’t an artist, I would love art as much as I do being an artist. I would enjoy it, appreciate it, and promote it, just as much. I would let myself get sucked into it, and see that life is not as complicated as we make it, yet it is complicated because we make it. I know it might sound like I’m babbling about something I don’t quite know myself, however, I do feel this way when I come in contact with anything that is art.
Recently I have discovered, thanks to a dear friend, one of the most touching animated-short films that tells the world of Maria, an autistic teenager. I have to say, up until now I didn’t really know much about Autism. I have family that suffer from this disease and, I respect a great deal the parents that have to raise a child with autism, but I really never got much involvement in it. Well, thanks to art, the Orange Foundation, and the incredible, talented cartoonist behind the short “El Viaje de Maria” (I would translate it as “Maria’s Voyage”) I have become more aware of autism and the children suffering from it.
I see things like this animated-short and I tell myself; This is what makes art so important. Because we can communicate, so clearly, the hardest things to understand.
The author of this short is in fact the father of Maria, Miguel Gallardo. I don’t know much about him, just that he is from Barcelona, Spain. Also, the short has been nominated for the Goya awards under the category for best documentary. I hope it wins, its and excellent sweet story, beautifully told.
Here is the short “El Viaje de Maria” by, Miguel Gallardo ( I will translate for those that don’t speak Spanish, hopefully it would be a good translation)
Here is the translation by, Laura V. Padron
Maria’s Voyage
Maria was not delivered by a stork. Maria came from a far away planet, like Superman. It took her nine months to get home; and when she finally did, she fell right asleep. Right away, Maria became the joy of the house. But soon enough, we realized something was happening to her. She did not seem to notice her surroundings, nor hear us. She would not reciprocate our gestures of affection; it was as if she lived in a world of her own… without a link to ours. Instead of playing with her toys, she would lined them up, like in a parade. Just like the Doctors that started visiting her, each one with their own opinion; each one with a different diagnosis. We too, traveled far in search of answers that came after so much time (AUTISM). In that journey, we had as partners the other parents. With whom we shared sadness, happiness, and experiences.
Maria now lives in Canarias, she is fifth-teen and a solete (could mean she is brilliant, or that she is lovable. I’m not too sure as it seems to be a slang word from Canarias) Our world keeps being too difficult for her, so she needs to organize it to live in it. In her head, everything is classified. In very good order! A box for every single thing! Unforeseen situations, make her very anxious, and too help her in those moments, we use pictograms that help her establish the routines.
For example, a common day: 8hrs15 wake up; 8hrs30 dress up; 8hrs45 breakfast; at 9:00, go to school; 14 hours, come back home; 17hrs to the park; 18hrs30 a snack; 19hrs30 play with her little pieces of papers; 20hrs shower; 20hrs30 dine; 21hrs brush her teeth and to bed until next day. Also, Maria has difficulty accomplishing the simplest things (book’s title: Life, User Manual); like tying her shoes; or zipping her jacket; showering by herself; making a phone call; or simply opening a can of anchovies; turning on the TV; or putting the emergency jacket on, well… not even I know that one. But she also has super powers, like Superman. Super-concentration to eat! Super-charisma to hypnotize people with a smile! Super-vision to tear paper into very small pieces! And must of all, Super-memory! In her head, there is space for the names of people she has once met, those names always go with her and are her world map. Is the list she repeats over and over again, and make of the world a safe place.
In real life, a lot of things happen in an instant, people talk all the time, and move too fast. Their faces express emotions that for Maria are hard to understand. She accepts everything at once in an aggressive and confusing way. The only way to defend herself, is to take refuge in her universe. A place to where only she may enter, and exit. Well, as well as her imaginary friends, those with whom she laughs when no one is watching her. In that special place, Maria finds protection in her repetitive games, with sand or with the small pieces of paper; Or simply by watching the water fall. Thanks to those moments, Maria calms the anguish provoked by the rules she can’t understand.
When we are with Maria, we try not to think much of the future, just live by the moment. We want to see her happy; that she learns little by little to become independent; and that she keeps remembering the name of every person. When Maria is with us, she makes of the world a better place. THE END.
I’m the type of person that likes to get overwhelmed with movies. I enjoy it, especially if I cry once or twice… Personally I think it is one of the best things that can ever happen to a person in the curse of his life; to allowed a story to touch his heart in such a way, it’s changed forever. These are not JUST pretty words, it’s true, this is the way I truly feel.
Last month I did something that goes against my own set of rules for this Blog -not that I have to schematically follow these “rules” but it’s important to have a plan and to stick with it. Sometimes, however, you must give room to unpredictability- I talked about a movie I have never seen before (You should know, I only post movies I have seen more than once, that is, movies I particularly own and so on), Requiem For a Dream. I repeat; I will never see it, never… never, I’ll never see this movie, never… I’ll never see this movie, I’ll never see this movie… never, I’m telling you, never… never… I’ll never see it, never. Okay! I got that out of my chest, great. The reason why I won’t see it is because, it’s juts too sad. It will haunt me for a month, and literally make me sad to the point where I will be so gloomy, it will affect not just me but others around me. I’m sure about this, it has happened before. And the movie I attribute this wishy-washy outburst of praise and hate is; Grave of the Fireflies (Hotaru No Haka).
Written and directed by Isao Takahata, Grave of the Fireflies was adapted from the semi-autobiographical novel by Akiyuki Nosaka. Set in World War II Japan, the story is a flashback narrated by Seita who is sitting on the floor of a train station, and follows the siblings as they struggle to survive after they become orphaned during the Kobe firebombing.
Seita and Setsuko (Seita’s little sister) managed to survive the firebombing in their neighborhood, and travel to another city to live with an aunt. There, even though they have a roof to shelter themselves from cold and food, after a while, the aunt becomes a bully, complaining about how they don’t contribute with any money towards the food expenses nor do any labor around the house to help. She continues claiming they are not appreciative and that they have taken advantage of her welcoming them in her house. Seita decides to leave, and with Setsuko, together they go off to live in an abandoned shelter.
In the shelter Seita and Setsuko capture fireflies and use them as lantern at night, but later the fireflies die and Setusko is sadden. She cries as she buries them, wondering why they had to die, just like her mother. Here is where things start turning for the worse as Seita and Setsuko run out of supplies and while Seita is forced to acquire food by any means Setsuko stays at the shelter growing increasingly ill from malnutrition. After taking her to a doctor and not getting much help, Seita decides to use their last resource, the little bit of money their mother had left them. He withdraws all the money from the bank, and buys food, and a watermelon for his little sister. When Seita returns to the abandoned shelter, he finds a dying Setsuko, hallucinating. He cremates Setsuko with help of a farmer, and then leaves carrying some of his little sister’s ashes on a tint and a picture of his father who died in the war. The flashback ends and the story goes back to the boy we first see at the beginning of the movie; Seita, dying on the floor of a train station. Out of the tint comes his and Setsuko’s spirit, clean and well dressed; this is the last image we have of them.
I don’t want to get into the interpretation of the title nor the film in its entirety because I just can’t help but be sad… and get sadder. For a long time I thought it was a fictional story, but as it turns out, it is a semi-autobiography of the author and his little sister who died of malnutrition during 1945. The author wrote the story in a way to apologise to his sister, as he blames himself for her death, and also to come to terms with it. I find this to be one of the most beautiful gestures. Tonight I have managed to finally write about this movie, and express (even if a little suppressed) my feelings for it in a way other than crying.
The film received positive critique. It was even compared to Spielberg’s Schindler’s List. truthfully, this story is one of the most powerful stories I have come across. If you decide to watch it (mind you, the film is extraordinary) I suggest you stop by the store first and get yourself 10 boxes of tissue, and -forget the eye drops- a basin full of water. I find water to be very refreshing on my eyes after I have been crying for hours.
For the film of the month post, I usually write about a movie that I love and are very familiar with since I am not a film critic and don’t really wish to be one. However, this time I must write about this movie that has impressed me. I want to make an exception, and share my feelings for this movie that without even knowing the full context of it I am so overwhelmed with it I can’t really not say anything. I have to share it, I must. This movie is Requiem For a Dream.
Now, before I get into all the drama, I wish to share a little info on Jared Leto (the main lead of the movie) because I think that he himself has made an impression on me.
The first time I saw Jared Leto was in My So-Called Life. He was the sexy rebel, intense, sort of “forgotten by life” boy Angela Chase fell in love with. I fell in love with him too. But after the show I did not really follow him as an actor or anything else. I have read here and there he has recorded albums, and I have seen him in other movies, but nothing that really caught my attention. I always thought of him as Jordan Catalano (the character he played in My So-Called Life) and never really saw him as what he truly is, and artist.
I first realized I had the wrong impression of him when I saw pictures of the cast in a reunion for the show years later. In the picture, he was with Clare Danes (Angela) and his look -I mean the way he was dress- was totaly mind blowing since I did not expect him to be gothic like. I really have nothing against gothics, punks, whatever they are called, but I was not expecting that of Jordan, I truly was not, and so it was sort of a shock. Now that I have done searches on him and I have seen his image, I have to say I don’t dislike it one bit. I’m not a complete fan of his music, although I do enjoy listening to “Kings and Queens” the lead single from his album This Is War, released in 2009. Listening to some of his music, and reading articles about him, also watching interviews he has done, I have to admire his passion and dedication to his work. I have realized that he is not just Jordan, and I should not relate him to My So-Called Life only, but to many other things he has done that deserve recognition. One of them was the character he played in Requiem For a Dream, Harry Goldfarb.
I can’t really say if his acting was excellent or not, but I can only say that after watching a clip from the movie I have become intrigued by Harry and his life. If an actor can make you experience that, then it surely deserves your attention. Too bad I will not watch the film, I choose not to because I don’t want to spend a week or more feeling depress and attached to somebody else horrible life experiences. I’m pretty sure if Jared ever read this (something improbable) he would feel content, since he said in an interview how he wished the film made everybody sick. Yes Jared, even clips from the movie made me sick. If I was strong enough to go trough this, I would watch this film; and I would be completely taken by each of its character; and I would be sad, very sad, for weeks. And then, I would probably not talk about it, or maybe I would. Since that is not going to happen, I choose to talk about it now, and share this bit of craziness.
There are many ideas I have about this movie, things that came to my head while watching interviews with the director, Darren Aronofsky and Jared, and also watching the end scene of the movie (if you read “Summer Reading, and my Poor Habit”, you will know this is a normal thing for me). One of them, and perhaps the most interesting for me since I have not seen the film yet, is how at the end everybody comes to realize the truth about who they are and their lives while laying on a bed in the fetal position; I thought this is particularly significant to the idea of how something returns to its normal state, realization of your truth… etc. It made me want to watch the film, although I wont.
This month I have had my share of good, funny, lovable, and memorable movies. I have watched a handful of love comedies (I will only mention the ones I liked) which is my favorite genre in movies – at least that’s what I think since it seems I’m always more willing to watch those than any other. There was I Hate Valentines (it was cute, but pretty ordinary) Valentine’s Day (I dislike Julia Roberts, but the movie was okay) Ramen Girl, and Love and Other Disasters –which I loved, loved, loved. I always liked Brittany Murphy, I think her acting – in comedies- was always very refreshing and natural. There was also the action movies, the drama, war movies –yes, there is always some of those; Black hawk Down, According to Greta, Blood The Last Vampire (the motion picture). But none of these movies have that peculiar feel of familiarity I look for in a movie to post under my “Films” category. With all the good films I have seen, there is only the one film that caught my heart this month. Maybe because I have watched it many times before, and thus the familiarity.
On another note; what a coincidence this film falls under two other categories; Anime, and Rurouni Kenshin… (sigh) I truly am lazy. Before I get into anything, this is not a proper review of the movie, in case you are looking for a discussion on character insights and plot development. Just my take on it, and its similarities to some manga, which has been my obsession recently.
Sword of the Stranger has been a favorite at home for a long time now. My boyfriend cannot get enough of it. He has seen the film at least a dozen times, and I’m not exaggerating. Is that, Sword of the Stranger is one of the few decent anime films about samurai. And of course, we love samurai stories.
The film begins when soldiers of the Ming Dynasty are chasing a boy name Kotaro, and his dog Tobimaru. Kotaro is running from his persecutors and trying to get to the main temple where he will be safe, since the monk who was caring for him died protecting him from the Ming. While hiding in a deserted shrine, he meets Nanashi (nameless) and hires him as his bodyguard after Nanashi saves him from the soldiers of Akaike, a daymio working together with the Ming.
Nanashi is a samurai with a heavy past. Because of it –and I suppose as a form of atonement- he has sworn to never use his sword again. However, he fights and defends the boy from the soldiers, and he doesn’t hold back. Kotaro tells the stranger he has no idea why the Ming wants to kidnap him. This makes Nanashi suspicious and he starts taking his job more seriously. Although at first it was what kept him close to the boy, after days of traveling together –and after many quarrels- they form a bond and Nanashi takes a liking to Kotaro and his dog. The samurai does not offer much detail about his life since he cannot remember where he comes from, but the boy is surprised to see Nanashi’s real hair color is red (a secrete he keeps by dying it black) and that he has no more desire to serve under a lord. (Am I speaking of Kenshin? No. Weird. Yep).
On the dark-side there is Rarou, second in command of the Ming Dynasty soldiers. He is a foreigner who joined the Chinese in search of a good fight. In his hunt for Kotaro, he meets with our mysterious ronin and sees his dreams come true.
The plot moves with good pace towards the climax, in which both sides are confronted in a battle that unravels the mystery surrounding Kotaro’s existence.
Sword Of The Stranger was directed by Masahiro Ando –a new liked director on my list- and produced by Bones (Wolf’s Rain=extraordinary.)
I have seen more than a handful of animated films throughout my life, and this one is really a great movie in general terms. I’ts got a good storyline –yes, it’s true, nothing new, we have seen this plot before, but it’s well told- stunning visuals, well-drawn animation, and the fight scenes are mind blowing.
I cannot praise it enough. The only thing that really questioned my faith in it -although I got over it- was the obvious relation it has to Ruroni Kenshin, and how it is not really essential to the plot.
There is no information on this movie that pertains to the anime Kenshin, but the fact that the main character’s hair is red; no cross-shape scar, but a scar on the face nonetheless, and he is a ronin who’s past has led him to lead a quite and peaceful life in a sort of redemption quest. It all screams KENSHIN to me. Couldn’t the director (with all respect) think of something else? Or is this really, another representation of the character Himura Kenshin? Moreover, it is true that Kenshin was based on a real hitokiri, Kawakami Gensai. So, let’s just assume for a minute that Nanashi is based on the real hitokiri therefore having some similarities to Kenshin. However, I’m pretty sure the real hitokiri didn’t have red hair being that he was Japanese, so, I don’t see why Nanashi has to have red hair too if this is another representation of Kawakami.
This, my friends, is the only part of the movie, which does not make a lot of sense to me. But at the same time gives me warm feelings every time I watch it, since I forgive the nonsensical part of it, and rejoice in the idea that it is my dear Kenshin; that he never dies like the OVA series shows; that he keeps forever wandering, like the true wave man he is.
Now, leaving all that Kenshin talk and going back to the movie, I will say once more that this film is great despite that little tiny bit of detail. If you are looking for a samurai story with good fighting scenes, this is the one for you.
Sine Cera 