Last night I watched the film "Before Sunset". It follows up on two characters who spent on beautiful night in Vienna together nine years prior. They reconnect in Paris- with only a couple of hours to spend together. It was really artfully done- it felt very real.
This is staring Ethan Hawke. I've always had a hard time with him- yet I seem to have a kinship to the movies he makes, whatever that means. It's his acting that's the problem, it's who I think he is as a person. I'm a big fan of Reality Bites, but I just can't look at him whenever he has a kissing scene because (to me) he looks like he's a really terrible kisser. Like, it completely tears me out of the fantasy of the film because I'm so grossed out by it. The other thing about Ethan is that he wrote a novel called "The Hottest State" that I read when I was 17. The character, obviously based on himself, was completely unlikable with a sort of violent take on romance.
Julie Deply co-stars as the other half of the duo. She is lovely and french. The highlight of this film for me was the song that she wrote and performed. She has the sort of low sexy singing voice that I have always dreamed of. The song is a waltz and stays in my head for days after watching it.
Perhaps if Ethan Hawke sing me love ballads instead of self indulgent novels I might be able to better stomach him.
I was left thinking about the people I have had brief enounters/ connections with in my life time. People I haven't seen in years...what would it be like to reconnect? Would they be as important to me in life as their absence? I thought of my lover, with whom I now live...
It was a cool April night, a Saturday night, we met on the street. He struck up a conversation about yoga- we were standing outside of a yoga studio. After a few minutes I took of my headphones and participated. We bonded over our gluten-free diets and I invited him to have dinner with me. We ate sushi while sharing intimate details about ourselves. He asked for my phone number- I refused- instead I drew a little picture of myself in his "little black book" next to an email address that I use for junk mail. We walked and talked for four more hours. He put his arm around me- I told him that I was not interested in dating anyone at the moment. He walked me home, gave me his card.
And that could have been it. We could have had just that one night shared by two complete strangers.
When I got upstairs to my appartment I left him a voicemail at his home number. He called the next morning- and we spent the day together. We have either seen or spoke to eachother everyday since then. I don't know why. That's just the way it had to happen I guess.
Places made magical by fleeting connection:
AC Beach
The Green bean
The Burlinton Y
The Smiling Buddha
Buddies in Bad Times
Riverdale Park
The pier on Key West
The Friendly Thai
Jerusalum
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
A Few Thoughts Regarding History
I have recently been confronted by my roots. Startling.
At the chapel:
Men in dark suits and kipas
small women with dark hair
Aunt Essie with Joan Crawford eyebrows
and ill-applied lipstick
Zadi cries
hugs me
the Rabbi tries
pinning on the black ribbon
"Rabbi, this is my granddaughter. Say a nice boreke for her"
I sit with Bubi- hair done make-up on-
looking
pointing
she says things like
"I used to babysit her" "We used to date" "Oh, he got big"
During the eulogy:
I laugh
I laugh at the parts that are true
I laugh at the parts that are false
At the cemetary:
I hold Zadi's hand
I hold him up
We watch the coffin
the coffin that holds his brother
We watch it being lowered
into the earth
together.
The Sun is tossed down
Nancy claps her hands
"Newspaper. Wonderful! Wonderful!"
The family says a prayer
together.
In hebrew.
Zadi speaking hebrew is new and old
his voice reminds me where we come from
what has been gone through
it is the thing that binds us.
The shiva house:
fogged mirrors
leggless sofa, low chairs
smoked salmon, tuna
bagels
emotional eating
Treasure albums
Zadi and Bubi in lust
Pre-stroke beauty
The truck that traveled to Lindy's
on a dine 'n' ditch mission
legends, stories, folklore.
Hard boiled eggs in salt water
"Everytime we are oppressed it makes us stronger.
Eggs are the only food that when you cook it, it gets stronger."
Salt water for our tears.
At the chapel:
Men in dark suits and kipas
small women with dark hair
Aunt Essie with Joan Crawford eyebrows
and ill-applied lipstick
Zadi cries
hugs me
the Rabbi tries
pinning on the black ribbon
"Rabbi, this is my granddaughter. Say a nice boreke for her"
I sit with Bubi- hair done make-up on-
looking
pointing
she says things like
"I used to babysit her" "We used to date" "Oh, he got big"
During the eulogy:
I laugh
I laugh at the parts that are true
I laugh at the parts that are false
At the cemetary:
I hold Zadi's hand
I hold him up
We watch the coffin
the coffin that holds his brother
We watch it being lowered
into the earth
together.
The Sun is tossed down
Nancy claps her hands
"Newspaper. Wonderful! Wonderful!"
The family says a prayer
together.
In hebrew.
Zadi speaking hebrew is new and old
his voice reminds me where we come from
what has been gone through
it is the thing that binds us.
The shiva house:
fogged mirrors
leggless sofa, low chairs
smoked salmon, tuna
bagels
emotional eating
Treasure albums
Zadi and Bubi in lust
Pre-stroke beauty
The truck that traveled to Lindy's
on a dine 'n' ditch mission
legends, stories, folklore.
Hard boiled eggs in salt water
"Everytime we are oppressed it makes us stronger.
Eggs are the only food that when you cook it, it gets stronger."
Salt water for our tears.
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