Portrait
There are times you wish someone was around to take a portrait � because you�ve caught yourself in a private moment that you somehow wish could be broadcast publically. Ironically, these moments are often alone, in a domestic space, and my definition, private.
It is wintery cold outside. Up until now, I�ve held off officially wearing a winter coat and instead have made do with a down vest or other jackets, because once coat season comes, there is no turning back. I think those days are long gone and I am in for the long stretch of heavy-coat-wearing-winter. It is a Friday afternoon, nearly approaching 7pm (ignore the post time, my internet isn�t working at home), but it is warm and bright in my apartment. Ever since the big crash, I�ve been rebuilding my music library � incorporating some new variations in my listening taste. Today I�ve been enjoying the new playlist and especially Damien Rice. I�ve spent the afternoon reading McElwee�s thesis from MIT, basically thoughts on filmmaking and personal evaluation of the success of his unfinished attempts and complete edited projects. I�ve been drinking coffee out of my favorite mug and eating refrigerated oranges, a strange but pragmatic practice I adopted to increase the longevity of the fruit, a must for the single girl sans automobile. But I am so curious and interested in his methods, these films, and coming to terms with cinema as an autobiographical / self-reflexive medium, I feel like I could do this endlessly, with sustained energies. Next time I doubt myself, I think I should read this over and be reminded why I went to graduate school. I can remember similar nights holed away in my dorm room at Middlebury, often on Friday or Saturday nights when there was an infinite number of other (fun) things I could have been doing, but somehow, for some reason, I felt compelled to stay in.
Similarly, I think I am finally getting a handle on some of the avant garde films that have interested, confused, haunted, and wrestled me for the last few years. Although there is a loose canon of films I have watched in a few undergraduate courses, but I never really saw the whole picture with these problematic and abstract films. I think, at best, I understood a few attributes, could list the innovations, and remembered a few scenes � but I had only an introduction. Maybe it is gradual synthesis over time, maybe maturity, but I feel like the pieces are falling into place. In some respects, I knew at first viewing, almost a love at first sight kind of revelation, that I would return to these films again and again (namely Bruce Conner�s Report, a film that seemed to jar me, take hold of my shoulders and shake me until I was convinced that I could be a film person) and I wasn�t done. I think I have constantly (if not constantly) justified the decision to study film to myself� to make a long story short, I don�t think I quite get it yet and it won�t let me rest from it.
I had my hair cut and colored this afternoon � and I am so pleased with the result. It is also intensely distracting to have my hair colored. Often I can�t stop looking at myself in the mirror, looking for the new colors and watching the new effects of light on the individual strands. It is intensely vain, but somehow, maybe because it is new and has the shiny allure of novelty, it feels less like looking at myself and more like something foreign, and therefore, doesn�t qualify as narcissistic behavior. Since I am being open and sharing my personal vision, I don�t feel too self-conscious to mention it.
My mind is certainly in on-mode and racing. Yet I feel almost tired enough to curl up in bed, under the covers, and take a nap.
posted by lmjasinski at 1:42 PM
