Sia's Dance Videos

For the last couple months, it's been an unspoken rule that the second I find "Chandelier" on the radio, everything else in my car becomes non-existent.  Ketan once stopped mid-sentence, said, "Oh no," waited as I scream-sang for 3 minutes and 52 seconds, then picked up where he had left off.  I loved the song's unflinching awareness of self-harm as a coping strategy and the hidden pain of those we think are on top of the world (see also Tove Lo's "Habits").  The unapologetic message, "This is what I have to do to make it through the day, but I know it's not really working" is hugely appealing to me.

And then I saw the music video, and my love exploded through the roof.

I mean, first, the choreography is amazing.  Maddie Ziegler is an extremely talented young dancer whose graceful chaos is both attractive and disturbing.  She is aggressive, confused, childlike, crazed, powerful, weightless, and silly.  She is the cacophony of humanity, the riot of emotions that refuse to be categorized or systematized.  She is too much--too much for her past, for enforced societal roles, for what she wants or what she fears--you can read a lot of things into this dance, which is what makes it so powerful.  What is clear is that she's cramming herself smaller, flying and screaming before ending with a perfect curtsy, one that continues for an uncomfortably long time as she forces us to bear the weight of her strained grin.

Perfection.

A couple days ago I saw Sia had a new music video, this one to a song called "Elastic Heart" which I know nothing about.  That lends a weird quality to my appreciation of the video, since I'm judging it entirely on the dance and pretty much ignoring the lyrics.

There is an immediately obvious difference--Maddie Ziegler is joined by Shia LeBeouf.  After an initial squick of "the prepubescent girl and adult man look naked!" I was immediately overwhelmed by how perfect the skin-toned outfits are.  Never once is either dancer sexualized, though it would have been easy to let the tone slip somewhere inappropriate.  Instead, the implied nudity is all about vulnerability.  Maddie and Shia are laid bare to the public, ripped open beyond skin to the uncomfortable pain that lies beneath.  The dirtied coverings perfectly convey the discomfort of being exposed without once being about sex.  Brilliant.

When I first watched the video, I viewed it through the lens of a relationship, since I've been trained to think of any female/male interaction as necessarily romantic.  I liked that narrative, but then I saw Sia's tweets about how Maddie and Shia represent two "Sias."  I watched it again, and I love this.  I love it so much.

Alluding to Carl Jung's theories of each person containing both anima and animus forces (feminine and masculine),  this video delves into warring aspects of self.  The two circle each other, fight, retreat.  In a moment of tenderness, it seems like there could be reconciliation, but the wild one lashes out in fear.  The other becomes angry until it is clear that the wild one is free.  In the cage, the two selves can fight in freedom and even safety.  But now there is disparity--one can grow up and leave the other behind.  In a last bid for unity, she re-enters the cage, drugs and tricks him into following her out, but to no avail.  We cannot grow up without leaving some parts of ourselves behind.  We cannot embrace one role without neglecting another.  And so we're left for nearly 50 interminably silent seconds to watch them fail to free him.  Holy goosebumps.

I'm a huge fan of story-telling, but my obsession with words often makes me forget how powerful the medium of dance is for conveying emotion.  Thank goodness Sia is around to remind me of its possibilities.

Arwen and Tauriel

Me:  And I loved Tauriel and Kili.
David:  Of course you did.
Me:  I was expecting her to die with him, since she's not in Lord of the Rings.  I thought it would be a tragic Romeo & Juliet thing.  But she lived!  And it was so much worse and so much better!
David:  She has to live without him forever.
Me:  Yeah.
David:  Forever.
Me:  Oh my gosh.  You're right.  *keening*  This is so painful!!
David:  She's like the opposite of Arwen.
Me:  *gasp*  Someone should write an essay about that!
David:  I'll get right on that.

I don't think he's going to get right on that, so I will!  Tauriel, the immortal elf who loved a mortal dwarf, and Arwen, the immortal elf who loved a mortal man.  The first watched her love die and will have to live forever with that pain, while the second gave up her immortality and died with her love.  Although Arwen's decision was given much weight throughout the LotR series, I can't help but think that Tauriel's love is the more tragic.

Arwen's choice to give up her immortality and live a mortal life alongside Aragorn was undercut by the overarching tragedy of the elves.  They live forever, but in a broken world, this is not such a gift as it might seem.  Some elves respond to this tragedy by isolation (Thranduil and the Mirkwood elves), while others jump into the affairs of men and suffer the consequences (Haldir in the movies).  In between are those like Elrond and Galadriel who spend most of their time amongst their own people, but are willing to engage with the wars of men and dwarves if the need is great enough.  No matter their worldview, the elves are consistently portrayed as beautiful tragedies, a relic of a time long gone.  They are separate from everything around them, waiting for the end of their age when all elves journey on to Valinor.

With this backdrop, Arwen's decision feels almost smart.  Choosing to live and die a mortal means becoming relevant.  She can engage with the peoples around her and feel the increased joy and sorrow that accompanies experiences from a mortal vantage point.  Eternity for elves is known, but the fate of men after death is less established.  This is one of her risks, trusting in eternity even without the surety of elven faith.  Far greater, however, is her separation from her people.  As her father and friends leave Middle-earth, she alone lives on.  Until she dies.  But it seems to me that death is not so much the tragedy as is her goodbyes.

Then we have Tauriel, a new character added by Peter Jackson.  I adore her, both for the general inclusion of a female presence in the male-dominated Hobbit story, and for her specific combination of warrior-lover.  Kili the dwarf falls in love with her when she saves his life, and she falls in love with him when they discuss starlight and family traditions.  Although they know each other an impossibly short amount of time, Tauriel feels his death deeply.  So deeply that she finally comes to understand the coldness of Thranduil, who repressed his emotions so deeply in order to ignore the pain of losing his wife centuries ago.

And that's the thing.  Losing someone you love means centuries of grief if you are an elf.  As in Thranduil's case, this can still occur even between elf-elf reltionships.  But Tauriel's love for a dwarf exacerbates this problem.  Not only is she in love with a mortal, she is in love with a hot-headed dwarf who seeks the glory of battle and the honor of his homeland.  A short time together, she now has an eternity to mourn him.  No wonder she cries, "If this is love, I do not want it."  Opening your heart to love means opening your heart to pain.  For a human, but so much more for an elf.

So who has the greater tragedy?  Arwen, who gave up immortality, or Tauriel, who must live forever with grief? 

Clearly the answer is me, a obsessive fan who has chosen to carry both their burdens.

Maleficent Movie Review

SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD.  Don't read if you don't want to know literally every major plot point.

I was interested in seeing Maleficent, but I hadn't actually thought to see it in theaters until a friend asked to see a movie and I thought, "Why not?"  I was so ignorant.  Maleficent blew me away with all the usually awesome movie stuff--excellent acting (Angelina Jolie is magnificent) and breath-taking fantasy landscapes and creatures.  But what solidified my love for the film was its beautiful feminist messages.

For starters, it is an undeniably female-driven movie.  Maleficent and Aurora are the center of everything.  The three fairies provide comic relief and a significant amount of screen time.  There are three male characters to round things out--men to round things out!  One as the sidekick to a female!  Oh my gosh, what a wonderful thing to see women as the stars of a fantasy epic, living adventurous stories and making terrible and wonderful decisions.

Second, Maleficent continues what Frozen began:  the assertion that love comes in many forms, and that female love relationships are just as strong as male-female romantic ones.  (It also continues a hesitancy to rely on the rape-like "true love's kiss" while a person is unconscious.  I adored Prince Philip saying, "I don't feel right about this!  I barely know her!" when the fairies urge him to kiss the sleeping Aurora.)  But he does kiss her, and nothing happens.  She's still asleep.  And man, oh man, then Maleficent steps out, apologizes and cries and repents; she kisses the princess whom she loves and cares for, AND SLEEPING BEAUTY AWAKES.  True love's kiss is one woman caring for another.

And most importantly, I was completely surprised by the entire plot.  Maleficent is essentially a rape allegory.  The young carefree fairy befriends a human boy.  She thinks she loves him and she trusts that he loves her back.  Years later, out of greed and ambition, he drugs her so that she falls asleep, physically violates her, taking something of hers without her permission, and when she wakes alone, she howls in physical and emotional agony.  Dear God, that scene was crazy painful.

Seeing the action as rape makes the movie so incredibly powerful.  Her vengeance is understandable.  I rooted for her to make the guy crawl.  Her turn to darkness is a bandage for her pain.  I was behind her 100%, even though I was uncomfortably aware that she was acting the villain.

But it doesn't stop there!  Maleficent learns to love again, albeit by loving the child she cursed.  She saves the princess, risking her life in the process.  And then love saves her, quite literally.  The child she loves frees the wings that had been ripped from her, and in a burst of bright light, they reattach and Maleficent is whole again. 

There is still, however, that pesky king rapist.  He attacks her in exactly the way he knows will hurt her, and clings to her as she tries to fly away.  I'm entirely sure that the fight scene at the end was probably nothing overwhelming or particularly epic.  But seeing it as an abuser and a rapist attacking his victim made me so uncomfortable.  I was cringing at the screen the whole time.  I honestly didn't know what would happen, what I even wanted to happen.  Should she kill him?  YES, I WANT JUSTICE.  But that would turn her into the villain we assumed she was.  In the end, she breathes deeply and says, "It is over," releasing him and turning away.  She chose FORGIVENESS.  Not in like, the way where everything is okay.  But in the real forgiveness way, where she chooses not to let him have a hold on her anymore, where the victim says, "I will not let you make me less than I am."  It is SO AWESOME.  Of course, because justice is still demanded, he throws them both off the castle walls.  He, being a terrible rapist, falls to his death.  She, being a redeemed survivor with returned wings, flies away.  And it is soul-wrenchingly beautiful.

I loved this movie.  I loved it so hard, and I want to make everyone in the world see it.  I want people to empathize with the victims of assault, to despise those who violate others, to learn the painful lessons of forgiveness and loving again.  This movie was my everything!

Captain America: Winter Soldier

I have a new obsession, and it is Captain America: Winter Soldier.  This is surprising, because his first movie is my least favorite in the Marvel universe, and he was by far the least interesting Avenger in The Avengers.  I went to see his newest movie out of brand loyalty, but I went to see it a second time because I fell in love.  This film covers all of my interests, creating a perfect storm of a story that draws me back again and again (and again?).

Hot People

Let's get the obvious out of the way:  Superheroes are almost always unbearably attractive.  As Amy Poehler said in her wonderful vlog about body positivity, "There are only five perfectly symmetrical people, and they're all movie stars.  And they should be, because their faces are very pleasing to look at."  Captain America is inhumanly muscled, Black Widow is effortlessly gorgeous, Falcon is hot and funny, and then there is the Winter Soldier.  Since when did unwashed hair and metal appendages become so attractive to me?  I just--I cannot talk about him anymore, or I will fall into paroxysms of adulation.

Even better?  The narrative allows these hot people to work together without assuming romance must naturally ensue.  Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov, aka the pinnacle of human perfection re: male and female, flirt a bit and comment about how of course the other is attractive, but it always remains friendly.  I mean, the running joke between them is Natasha trying to set Steve up, which A) establishes them as buddies, and B) establishes that she does not want to be set up with him herself.  Give me more platonic best friend superheroes!  (Except when it comes to Black Widow and Hawkeye.  Please tell me her arrow necklace has a hidden meaning.)

Symbolism

This is the most difficult of my interests to express with other movie watchers.

Me:  Did you notice that Captain America uses the same move to attack his first and last opponents in the movie!?
Hypothetical Movie Watcher:  No, why does that matter?
Me:  It just--nicely bookends the movie!  And what about those two bullet holes, eh?  "Cut off one head, and two spring up" amiright?
HMW:  I don't think that matters.
Me:  BUT IT'S INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.

Minority Representation

This is maybe my favorite thing about CA:WS.  The five main heroes in the film are 1) a white man, 2) a white woman, 3) a black man, 4) another black man, and 5) another white woman.  Five heroes and only ONE is a white man?  BLOW ME DOWN.  I cannot even express how much this means to me.  Contrast this film with The Avengers, in which our six main heroes are...five white guys and one white girl.

It's no secret that Black Widow is my favorite Avenger, and it doesn't take much imagination to figure out why.  In a world of hyper masculine superheroes, Natasha Romanov uses her intelligence, wit, flexibility, and lower body strength to overpower dozens of bad guys.  She is badass and feminine.  When I watch a superhero movie, I fall in love with the superheroes, but here was a superheroine represented who I am.  I could be her.

The second time I watched CA:WS, I sat next to a black woman and her son, and every time Falcon came on screen, they cracked up (I mean, so did I, that man is a gift to humanity) and cheered.  It made me so excited, because here was a face they could map themselves onto.  (Although it needs to be said--where was the black woman superhero?  And on and on.)

Maybe this seems inconsequential.  Instead of defending myself, I will quote Anthony Mackie aka Falcon.

Q: How do you feel about being the first African-American superhero?
AM: It’s funny you should ask that. [LAUGHS] It’s cool. When I was a kid, I really didn’t have a person I could look at, other than my dad, and be like, “Hey, I want to be that guy and fly through the window.” You couldn’t be like 7 years old and say, “Who do you want to be for Halloween?” “Shaft!”
So [LAUGHS] you know, it’s really exciting. When I first got this role I just cried like a baby because I was like, “Wow, next Halloween, I’m gonna open the door and there’s gonna be a little kid dressed as the Falcon.” That’s the thing that always gets me. I feel like everybody deserves that. I feel like there should be a Latino superhero. Scarlett does great representation for all the other girls, but there should be a Wonder Woman movie. I don’t care if they make 20 bucks, if there’s a movie you’re gonna lose money on, make it Wonder Woman. You know what I mean, ’cause little girls deserve that. There’s so many of these little people out here doing awful things for money in the world of being famous. And little girls see that. They should have the opposite spectrum of that to look up to.

(Legitimate) Man Pain

Man pain is defined by Urban Dictionary as follows:  "When a grown man has the emotional life of an angsty teenager he is said to be experiencing manpain, especially if he tries to compensate with macho behavior.  There are many causes of manpain ranging from violently killed family member/mentor/lover(s) to a broken heart to absent parental figures or even a history of sexual and/or physical abuse.  Manpain is generally expressed in the following ways: breaking shit, drinking too much, picking fights in bars, becoming a costumed superhero and taking long drives while listening to wailing guitars. For the less violent it can be expressed by remaining stone-faced while flexing jaw muscles, staring broodingly into the middle distance and crying a single tear."

I don't like man pain.  It's ridiculous.  But Captain America?  Is a man and is in legitimate pain.  He is pretty okay at adjusting to waking up in a new era, but the fact that all his friends and love interests are dead or dying?  Well, that's harder to swallow.  The difference between Steve Rogers and MANPAIN protagonists is that Steve Rogers doesn't let this pain drive him to drama and selfishness.  The story deals with his loneliness and depression very compellingly (I mean, the poor guy can't even think of something that makes him happy), but he does not let his pain wall him off in a cocoon of "you don't understand me!"  Instead, he checks in with other people, asking Black Widow how she is coping with a big reveal and tactfully remembering Falcon's fallen comrade.  They're all in pain, and no one person's pain is allowed to take center stage and dominate everyone else's.


Violence

The other day I was talking about violence with the boy I nanny and how I wouldn't want to shoot someone if they were robbing me.  He gave me a skeptical look and asked, "If you don't like violence, how come you like superhero movies so much?"  Touche, ten-year-old.  This question was on my mind during my second viewing of CA:WS because the fight scenes in this movie are beautiful.  It wasn't until I realized that they could easily be described as balletic that I realized it was the choreography more than anything that amazed me.  Black Widow and Captain America are two of the most graceful superheroes created.  Pairing them against someone like the Winter Soldier, who is raw power and force, creates a fantastic opportunity to show off some really amazing human movement.  This especially became true during the final fight scene when things get much more realistic--I couldn't watch.  I don't like real violence.  But when fight scenes play like dances, I am riveted.

Patriotism

I tend not to be very patriotic.  When I think of the United States, I think of political infighting between Democrats and Republicans.  I think of global bully, and materialism, and entitlement.  So a superhero whose name is Captain America?  He was fighting an uphill battle to my heart from the beginning.  But the joke's on me, because this stalwart protector of patriotism won me over.  Listening to him make a speech about sacrifice for the sake of someone else's freedom made me proud to be an American like no fireworks display ever did.  America is powerful, and when we use that power against others or for ourselves, I get mighty squeamish.  But this new (old?) brand of patriotism that says we ought to use our power sacrificially?  I am ALL ABOUT THAT.

This leads me to my absolute favorite scene in the film, a scene featuring a nobody tech guy who hears Captain America's message and subsequently struggles to do the right thing at risk of his life.  It is beautiful and painful and awe-inspiring.  If that's what it means to be an American, well then, count me in.

Noah Gundersen

Last night I saw Noah Gundersen in concert.  I fell in love with his music the second I heard "Jesus, Jesus," which perfectly expresses my doubts and discomforts with Christianity while also clinging to a hoped for hope.

When I finally got around to listening to the rest of his music, I was blown away by his ability to honestly relate the highs and lows of life with a wisdom that digs beneath the obvious.  In "Isaiah" he describes a relationship with a girl who has a boyfriend.  He manages to convey the ambivalence of wanting the relationship and knowing it's wrong.  The chorus repeats Isaiah 41:10, "Fear thou not, my right hand will hold you, fear thou not."  The first time it is an excuse, a get out of jail free card, and as the song progresses into regret and conviction, it becomes a truth to which he clings in the midst of sin.  I mean, this guy blows me away.

And he's even more fantastic in person.  His passion pours off the stage.  He is absolutely captivating.  And the joy of live music comes from hearing your favorite songs in real time, watching emotions play across an artist's face as they share their soul with a crowd of strangers.  So when he played the opening chords of "Jesus, Jesus" I was thrilled.  It was better than I expected, however, as we were privileged to hear Noah's alterations to the song, something I can only assume reflects his spiritual progression.

The last verse of "Jesus, Jesus" is this:

"Jesus, Jesus, I’m still looking for answers
Though I know that I won’t find them here tonight
But Jesus, Jesus, could you call me if you have the time?
And maybe we could meet for coffee and work it out
And maybe then I’ll understand what it’s all about"

But what he sang was this:

"Jesus, Jesus, I’m still looking for answers
And I think I always will be
But Jesus, Jesus, could you call me if you have the time?
And maybe we could meet for whiskey and work it out
And maybe then I’ll understand,
Maybe then I'll understand,
Maybe then I'll understand
You."


It's probably powerful enough to let the contrasts sit there, but what is a blog for if not unnecessarily sharing opinions?  And I have to, because I love the changes.  First he acknowledges that not only will the doubts go unsolved tonight, but--they're always going to exist.  Then he changes out coffee for whiskey, reflecting a darker sensibility, and awareness that this is heavy stuff, not something for a casual coffee date.  Not only that, but he trusts that Jesus would join him for whiskey, would be comfortable joining him where he is: in a bar, silencing his pain.

And finally, my favorite change.  Whereas first Noah sings about understanding "what it's all about" he finally decides that he wants to understand "you."  There will always be questions and he will always want answers (don't we all?), but in the end, he knows those aren't sufficient.  You can have all the answers in the world to the problems presented in the song, but answers won't solve anything unless you know the Person who is giving the answers. 

Noah is probably not a Christian, from what my concert-mates told me.  But his song speaks volumes of truth to me, reminding me that having arguments are secondary to resting in Jesus.  If I can understand him, the contradictions and worries will fall away.  I'm so honored to have been able to listen to Noah's heartbeat so that mine can fall into his cadence. 

Reading & Empathy & Counseling

Liz and I have talked a few times about the power of reading.  More specifically, we've both noticed that people who read a lot tend to be more empathetic than those who don't.  Of course this is a generalization!  But, well, I think there is some truth to it, because reading (I'm talking about fiction here) is essentially a class on empathy.  The whole point of reading a book is to put your mind inside someone else's body and live out their life.  As a white single woman in 2013, I can live the life of men and women of color from all time periods in relationships and situations I could never, or hope to never, experience.  I can live the lives of good people and bad people, people who are desperate and people who are generous.  I learn who I want to be and who I want to avoid becoming.

Empathy is the ability to put yourself in someone else's place.  Reading is the practice of putting yourself in someone else's place.

That was one epiphany.  During a later conversation, I realized that this empathy was also what has equipped me to be a counselor.  Counseling is basically being able to understand someone else's situation, to feel their pain and know their struggle. 

What I'm saying is, my 25-year habit of reading a novel every other day is going to make me a kick ass counselor.  I'm also saying that maybe I have exactly one interest in life:  experiencing other people's stories, and I do that through both reading and counseling.  WHAT that blows my mind, here I thought I was a beautiful complex snowflake.  So if I were to boil myself down to one characteristic, I think it would be empathy.

All because of books.

I Will Watch Anything Starring Hugh Laurie

I keep leaving blogging until the last minute, because I forget I've decided to blog every day this month.  By the end of the day, I have TOO MANY thoughts flying through my head, and I don't know where to even start laying them down.  Or if I want to commit to the time it would take to go into them.

So I'll go with the easy and mention that Liz and I watched The Oranges, which we've wanted to watch for MONTHS, and it was so weirdly good!  It stars Hugh Laurie, who gets sexier with age, and he sleeps with his best friend/neighbor's daughter.  That's the story.  HAHAHA.  And it was so confusing, because a) Hugh Laurie, and b) everyone was ridiculous and sad and understandable.  I love narratives that refuse to paint people as villains or heroes, but instead tell stories realistically and painfully.

Painfully funny, too.  This movie does awkward like nothing.  It was so wonderful.  I have no opinions about it because it played spin the bottle with my moral compass, so I need time to digest and process. 

Alright, that's a good couple paragraphs.  Done.

I Just Stepped Into the Present

Another thing about my writing I learned this weekend:  someone said, "I can't wait to see how God uses your talent for writing!" and I said, "Me too!"

Until a couple nights later, when I thought about it a little longer.  My whole life, I've seen my writing as a placeholder.  That I'm practicing for something else, preparing for some mystical "THIS IS IT" writing assignment.  And to some extent, duh, everything I write is a chance to play around, learn from mistakes and discoveries, and get better at the writing craft.

But that's not all it is.

I think God is using my Facebook statuses and blog posts right now.  My goal with the inane, self-deprecating Facebook statuses is to bring a little levity and joy to people's days.  My goal with my blog is the same, although sometimes I go surius biznez and write about something deeper.  Two people called me to say they really appreciated my blog on homosexuality, which meant a lot, because I was kind of terrified to write it and make it available to public eyes.  It encourages me to know that every once in a while, something I say hits a person in a particular way, either by making them see something in a new way, or by giving voice to a feeling they've had but couldn't articulate.

None of that is super fancy.  It's just Facebook and blogging.  Someday I'd love to be published, but honestly, that's more selfish vanity than anything.  I think I'm using my talent for writing already, and I trust that God is happy with my use of the gifts He's given me.  So.  No more waiting.  This is it!  This is me writing, ridiculously and passionately and occasionally thoughtfully, and this is what counts.

Race in Sci-Fi

I read a lot of social justice media blogs, because, relevant to my interests.  And whenever something sci-fi comes out, inevitably people rush to point out the sheer whiteness of the cast.  Especially when it's an adaptation of a book or something, and character of color in the book are cast as white actors.  Anyway, I've read complaints about white-washing so often that when I watched After Earth, I was SHOCKED by how right they did it.  I mean, first of all, the two main characters were black.  But the supporting cast, and the crew and the soldiers and everyone--was very well represented.  Black, brown, white, every shade in between.  It was actually as if the human population, with its minority of white people and majority of people of color, had moved to space and gotten jumbled up.

It was so lovely.  I hope people are talking about it!  I hope it is a thing that continues! 

Other than that, though, the movie wasn't much to write home about.  Interesting father/son dynamics, but I scoffed at the idea of being devoid of fear while facing terrifying creatures.  I stand firmly in the "courage means doing something even though you are a afraid" camp, and I don't want no fearlessness advocates messing with my jam.

But race?  They win gold stars.

The Twelfth Doctor

Should I talk about how I skipped church again today or how Matt Smith is resigning as the Doctor?  I was feeling serious earlier, but I don't feel like being introspective anymore, so Doctor Who discussions ahead!

The thing is, I don't care.  I'd read several months ago that Matt Smith was probably on his way out, so the news that this year's Christmas Special will be his last episode wasn't a surprise.  Also, I just...never connected with Eleven the way I did with Nine and especially Ten.  I never got a hold of whatever he was.

Nine was angry, and during his season, he got less angry by loving a human and re-learning how fun and exciting it is to travel around and have adventures.

Ten was a happy puppy dog who had everything he wanted, until he lost Rose.  And then Martha.  And then Donna.  He became progressively angsty and every-once-in-a-while-terrifying until he remembered his love for humanity and died in place of a "nobody."

Eleven was...a manchild.  He flailed and twirled and acted surprised that his married friends liked to kiss each other, but then he frequently got sexy with people and occasionally threatened genocide.  I could rarely trace what was actually happening with his character development, maybe because his three seasons stretched over 200 years of the Doctor's life and one of the most important people in his narrative popped in and out, sometimes from his future, sometimes from his past.  Eleven seemed to change depending on what plot he was in the middle of, and the fact that I've taken a full paragraph to explain his character when Nine and Ten took only a few lines says a lot, I think.

So goodbye Eleven. 

Who will be Twelve?  I'm hoping for someone who isn't a young handsome white guy.  I mean, I'll be honest, I like young handsome white guys.  But we've done that several times now, and it just leads to more of the same--namely, romantic subplots.  I want someone older, like Ian McKellan.  Or, be still my heart, Dame Judi Dench.  She has just the right amount of sass to be the Doctor.  I'm very intrigued by the idea of the Doctor regenerating as a woman (we know it's possible because of the Master, I think?), but I don't want a young hot woman, because I don't trust Moffat to write a young hot woman without turning her into another Amy/River/Clara. 

I would also be down with a person of color, because that could be interesting (we know it's possible from when River was Melanie).  I've heard Idris Elba thrown around, but I want him to be the next Bond, and I think he's too ripped to be the Doctor.

I guess really I just want someone old.  Please, Sir Ian McKellan or Dame Judi Dench!  YOU WOULD BE SO GREAT.

Travel Therapy

Two of my favorite things in life have to do with escaping life:  books and travel.  If I think about that too much it is worrying.  Good thing I'm not going to!

Instead, I'm focusing on how excited I am to be looking directly at several months of funtimestraveljamsessions!  Next week I'm headed to Peoria for the weekend.  Later in June I'm going to Tennessee for a Senegal reunion.  In July I'm flying to Seattle to see my brother.  In August I'm back to Peoria for another wedding.  Nothing in September, but then in October, I'm going to Maryland to visit Elizabeth!

Small tip, if we are friends and you say, "You should come visit me sometime!"  I will take that crap seriously.  Elizabeth did that after a couple days of analyzing The Great Gatsby, and within 24 hours I had bought a plane ticket.  Apparently she lives very near F. Scott Fitzgerald's grave, and I'm so excited!!  That's weird, right?  I don't know.  I just love me some Fitzgerald.

Four states in five months.  If I throw in Texas, because I live here, that's five states in five months, which sounds much more impressive.  I've just decided to give into wanderlust all the time and not try to grow past or deny this need I have to GO and SEE and EXPERIENCE.  Those are human desires, I think, and not entirely bad.  So long as I also appreciate what I have while I have it.

"Hold me fast, hold me fast, cause I'm a hopeless wanderer...
I will learn, I will learn to love these skies I'm under."

Oh, Mumford & Sons.  I love you (AND I'M GOING TO SEE YOU IN ELEVEN DAYS OH MY WORD MY LIFE).

Anna Karenina

Turns out this blog is just going to be a movie review site for a while.

Liz and I have wanted to see Anna Karenina since the remake was released on DVD in February, but because we are cheap, I put it on hold at the library.  Finally this weekend it came, and we watched it tonight.  I had low expectations, because I started reading Anna Karenina twice (like, 200 pages of it before I gave up), and also the reviews of the movie were kind of "eh, it's okay."

NO.  IT WAS EXCELLENT.

Like holy cow, I finally understand what the big deal is.  I get why Tolstoy is a genius and why his books are literary classics.  He told a story founded on morality, but never became moralistic.  Apparently he started off the book wanting to write about a sinful wife and her righteous husband, but then he fell in love with Anna.  By loving her, she became a full-bodied individual human being, and we fall into adultery with her, understanding but hating it, and then we fall even deeper into consequences and despair and paranoia.  We live with her, and feel for her, and want to tell her to yes, go on! and stop, don't do it!  It's brilliant.

And that's just the plot.  The mastery of the framing of the story is just sensational.  The woman who plants the seed of "adultery is fun" in Anna's mind turns out to be Vronsky's mother, who later does all she can to break them up.  The death by train that causes Anna to admire Vronsky at the beginning foreshadows her own death at the end.  (And sidenote, the use of train wheels throughout the film to symbolize the uncontrollable descent of emotion is stunning.)

Anna is torn between passion and safety, and all the supporting characters live out little romances (or lack thereof) that deepen her story and reveal further nooks and crannies of what it means to love or to love well.

IT'S FREAKING AWESOME.  When it was over, Liz and I stared at each other before kind of screaming low and dying.  I love stories.  I am pretty easily won over by stories.  For instance, I loved Iron Man 3 last night.  But sometimes you encounter a story that is just beautiful in its truth and complexity, and you think, "OH, that's what storytelling is for."  What an amazing story, and a spectacular adaptation.

Already in my amazon wish list.

Iron Man 3

Maybe it's because I've just seen a superhero movie, but when I look to the days ahead and all the awesome movies being released, I imagine myself standing slowly, looking into the middle distance and intoning, "My time has come."

Because guys, there is nothing I do better than absorb stories and flail about them after.  I'm not even kidding when I say I think that is why God made me.  Someone needs to be a full-time appreciator.

Before I get into Iron Man 3, let me discuss the previews.  Namely, the preview for Thor 2.  Specifically, the two second clip of Loki.  My love.  I love him.  So much.  I am pretty sure that he's going to have to team up with Thor against the bigger threat of Malekith, but I am desperately hoping that the teamwork will stick around long enough for him to show up in Avengers 2.  Can you imagine the snarkiness when the rest of the team realizes he's on Team Good?  I CAN.

This is basically me living my Draco dream through a new character.  Why can't the poor little evil guys be redeemed and grudgingly admitted into the ranks of hero?  PLEASE.

Okay, Iron Man 3 beneath the cut.

Movies, I Want Them

Alright, fandom flails.  I can't help it.

May is going to be the freaking best month of movies in a long time. 

Iron Man 3, in which Robert Downey Jr. apparently fought for Pepper to have a larger roll, and she's going to put on the suit and save him from a collapsing ceiling, and I'm so down for that.

Star Trek Into Darkness, in which my favorite emotionless actor runs around with a bunch of awesome people and...I don't know, it looks dramatic, and I loved the first one, so.  I'll be there.

AND The Great Gatsby, which I have been eagerly anticipating since Illinois, all the more so after I dressed up 1920s style for my first Dallas party.  I want to dress up again, and be fancy while watching Fitzgerald's beautiful story merge with Luhrmann's insane direction.  I'm going to emotionally vomit all over everything, this timeless story of desperately pursuing things that never satisfy, and it's going to be the best thing my eyeballs take in.

Hurry up hurry up hurry up.

Further Tattoo Thoughts

Alright, so it's been a week.  What is it like to have a tattoo for a week, everyone desperately wants to know.

Well, it healed super fast.  If I slammed my wrist against the edge of a desk, I'm sure it would hurt, but then again, it usually does.  Other than that, it feels fine.

It's very slightly raised, and I don't know if that will stay.  I kind of hope so, but I have a feeling it won't.

It's definitely weird.  I mean, I knew it was permanent before I got it.  But it's totally different, seeing something on my skin and knowing it will ALWAYS BE THERE.  I don't regret it or anything like that, it's just strange.  I guess it's what people feel after getting married, realizing, "Whoa, I knew I was going to spend my life with this person, but now it's real.  We're really together forever."

In related news, I think I just found another really good reason for me to have gotten a tattoo.  If anyone needs to practice commitment, it's me!

My grade school best friend Facebooked me some really fantastic information.  She said the root of courage is "coer" which is heart.  She also mentioned that the ancient meaning of coer was "the heart as the seat of intellect and imagination."  HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF SOMETHING SO PERFECT FOR ME?  I didn't think so.

Anyway, I'm still in love, it's strange in ways I didn't expect, and no one has reacted extremely negatively (to my face)!

Anticipating Travel

Bridgett and I are going to Arizona this weekend, and I honestly don't know if I'm more excited about the roadtrip through West Texas or the actual destination.  It doesn't really matter, I guess, because the important thing is I'm satiating my wanderlust! 

I wonder if I have an internal countdown clock that resets every time I see a new place.

I wonder what would happen if I let the countdown clock run out!?

Arizona, Arizona, please hurry up.  I don't want to take my midterms.

Online Writing Community

I joined an online writer's community.  For years I have been terrified of showing my writing to others.  That is why I switched from my English major--I realized I couldn't spend four years letting people see my work and criticize it as a group.  It's not just that I'm scared of people what people will say about what I write; I'm scared they'll say I'm no good at writing.  And well, writing is my thing.  It's the one part of me that I consider a talent.  With very little else to fall back on, it felt too vulnerable to expose my one talent to possible criticism.

Anyway, I decided that since I'm nearly 25, I ought to suck things up and get on with being confident.  So I joined an online community!  AND IT IS AWESOME.  Because here's the (obvious) thing:  there's a vast difference between thinking you're good at something and hearing someone else affirm you.

Added benefit, most writers tend to be self-conscious and easily hurt.  There's a reason we share our feelings on paper and in formalized stories or poems.  Actual communication is scary.  Writing allows us to share our thoughts from a distance.  Since pretty much everyone else on the site feels similarly, everyone is lovely and encouraging.

ANOTHER benefit, which I thought of after Jessica played me a song by Pink.  Usually when someone shares a problem or a hurt, the response is, "Oh, don't feel bad!  It could be worse!  I'm sorry, be happy!"  And since most poetry is about the sad things in life, that could be an unwelcome response.  Not so on this site.  Everyone comments with things like, "Yes, exactly, I've felt that way.  Thank you for sharing your feelings.  I'm so impressed with how you dug into that grit."

Sigh.  It's like finding a home, is what I'm saying.  I should have done this ages ago.

The Oh Hello's

Liz introduced me to this band The Oh Hello's, and they are everything I want to be.  Listening to them makes me say things like, "They are speaking my heart and playing my soul!" with a whine and a forehead crashed against the car window. 

The thing is, their album "Through the Deep, Dark Valley" is one long song-after-song story.  The Christian life story, in fact.  The first couple songs are about creation and Eden and falling in love.

("At last, at last, bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh")

Then comes the fall.

("These things that you're after, you cannot control")

Then songs of doubt and despair and hope against hope.

("Father, have mercy, I know that I have gone astray, When I saw my reflection, it was a stranger beneath my face")

Then the rising action, the pursuit of truth and the peace of finding God.

("I was bound and determined to be the child that you wanted, but I was blind to every sign You left for me to find")

And finally, a reprise of the first song, of Eden and rest.

("Still you lead me, never leave me")

On top of some really poetry-soul-inspiring lyrics, the music is freaking fantastic.  I am hard core in love, and I desperately want them to perform in Dallas, and also I want everyone everywhere to know of them.

Lord of the Rings Memories

In honor of The Hobbit's release today at midnight, I thought I'd rave about my enduring relationship with Tolkien's creations.

I read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings in middle school, but the epic awesomeness went over my head.  The first movie came out when I was in 8th grade, and my brother invited me to join him and his friends to see it opening night.  Partly because I liked the books, but mostly because I was in awe of hanging out with people four years older than myself, I went.

By the end of the movie, I had stars in my eyes.  Immediately I re-read the books and corrected my misconception of who Aragorn loved (to be fair, Eowyn appears WAY more often in the books than Arwen ever did).  I had a huge crush on Legolas, and I downloaded pictures of the entire Rings cast, printing them out and pasting them into a LotR scrapbook.  I bought the Ring, I made homemade t-shirts with my favorite quotes, and I made up a potential LotR wedding ceremony in which Gandalf presided and I wore a white dress like Galadriel's.

I saw each of the three movies four times in theaters.  By the time Return of the King came out, I was drowning in nerdiness.  On opening night (of course), I started crying when Merry and Pippin separated, and I pretty much didn't stop for the next three hours.  Well, that's not exactly true.  When all seemed lost in the Battle of Pelennor Fields, but then the Rohirrim appear over the hilltop with the sunrise, I was done.  My body shook with sobs, but I had no water left in my eye sockets with which to cry.

Upon leaving the theaters, I thought, "I could die happy."  That seems a bit extreme, and hey, I was an obsessive teenager, so of course it was.  But there's a big piece of truth to that sentiment.  I had just witnessed the most beautiful, truthful, loving story that somehow echoed everything my heart desired to be and pointed me toward a God who was maybe writing an epic story like LotR throughout history.

I went home, curled up in bed, and turned on "Into the West."  I found some more tears, and I cried happily to sleep, half expecting to never wake up.  It would have been a good way to go.

However, I did not die!  Which is good, because I got to live to see the Return of the King extended edition!  I watched them all through, and then instituted a very strict policy of only ever watching them all in their entirety within one week, and not more than once a year.

Years went by, and suddenly I was a senior in college with one of the best friends in the whole world.  For the end of my final semester in December, Stephanie and I watched all three extended editions in a row.  We started at noon and finished at 2:00 in the morning.  Friends came and went.  Josh and Seth joined us in The Two Towers and stayed to the end.  Erin and Tim came home engaged, and while I happily took pictures of them and squealed with joy, I kept thinking, "But Frodo is climbing the slopes of Mount Doom!  I have to get back!"

Mid-December has been Lord of the Rings-time for the last 11 years of my life.  I think it will forever be associated with the stories, and I'm incredibly okay with that.  Especially because in mid-December of 2012, I'm going to re-enter the visual world of Tolkien and watch The Hobbit!

Facebook Statuses I Abandoned

I was chopping broccoli and listening to "Christmas Unicorn" when Amy walked through the kitchen.  "I don't get the Christmas unicorn thing," she said.  "I'm trying."  I grimaced to suppress my instinct to shout, "IT'S A METAPHOR FOR CHRISTMAS CONSUMERISM AND ACCEPTING OUR FALLENNESS WHILE STILL EMBRACING THE CHRISTIAN STORY.  AND IT'S AWESOME."

Or if not that, I could have whispered, "I'm the Christmas unicorn."

**

Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan Sufjan

**

My thoughts for the last few days have been approximately 100% Sufjan Stevens, give or take nothing.

**

Sufjan, I really need you to stop making weird things attractive.



No, I'm just kidding.  Keep doing what you're doing.