the female gaze

Look with your eyes, not with your hands.


Such a minute fraction of this life do we live: so much is sleep, tooth-brushing, waiting for mail, for metamorphosis, for those sudden moments of incandescence: unexpected, but once one knows them, one can live life in the light of their past and the hope of their future.



A grad student muses on her life, film, friends, politics, reality televizzle, and music.


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"The story of your life is not your life, it's your story" -- John Barth
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Thursday, May 09, 2002
 
If I was a bit smarter, I would have gotten to bed at a respectable hour, but approaching 5am, it feels good to have the chinese paper done (we worked out a system, pete and I) and also to have read the kalb reading on "new feminism" which a turkish artist seems to define as assembling a harem of "gentle men" and giving herself over to physical pleasure all the time - a kind of reclaiming one's sexuality or something equally as perverse clouded in intellectual seeming rhetoric that really doesn't elevate casual sex above what it is, base.

I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon tonight. It's the last week of Chinese Cinema and our professor sold out his arty taste for doing something in the Kung Fu genre that captivates most of my classmates... well, about tonight's film (I actually liked it more than I thought I would) what's up with the title? And what's up with Jen's 45 min flashback to the desert land where she'll ride for approx. 2 days on horseback to get her comb back... aside from that, I liked it. I don't know what we're going to talk about in class tomorrow, per se, but I am glad I finally saw this, and on a big screen at that.

Anyway, bed time, but since I have actually finished something, figured I should inform the world (or the dozen or so people that read this).