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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Monday, October 11, 2004
 
Same old, same old, boys & girls...

As always, having a harder time than I should sitting down to concentrate on this Monday afternoon. Had a wonderful weekend away, giving my batteries a re-charge with Patrick in Chicago for the weekend. He treated me to a most magnificent fancy-dancy at Rick Bayless's Topolobambo, one of the finest meals I've ever had. I'd highly recommend it, next time you are feeling rich and decadent.

Then Saturday, we spent the day in the dark - literally from 2:30 - after 10pm watching movies at the Chicago Film Festival. We saw two amazing movies - Angelopoulos's Trilogy: The Weeping Meadow and Kore-eda's Nobody Knows, two of the best of the best out there in the world today, from Greece and Japan respectively. We also saw Godard's latest (and hardly his greatest) called Notre Musique. Patrick says it best when he says that Godard is a director of great moment, not great films. Just the same, great movies, comfy seats and a nice big screen. It's what I needed.

Otherwise, I think that everyone should spend a crisp fall weekend in a city sometime soon. Chicago has much prettier leaves than Wisconsin and when it's chilly, it's nice to have an excuse to walk extra close to someone you are fond of. As always, it's fun to take mass transit, do a little shopping, browse in a fantastic bookstore and see Frank Lloyd Wright's Robie House.

It's been ages since I've written - but suffice it to say - that I've saved you from having to read my laundry-list of whiney complaints. Basically, it's too early in the semester to be this tired, discontent, and disillusioned. But alas, it is in fact, possible. I don't know what to write my final paper about, I still haven't unlocked any secret interest in Hollywood as an industry or as a maker of films. Days go by... I am trying to take them one at a time and most times, I just wish I was in some other place doing some other thing. Teaching is a bore and a chore. I still have some long term projects (proposals, conference papers) that remain on the interminable "to-do" list, but I need stricter deadlines that force me to get my butt in gear.

Anyway, I still I need to plant myself in a coffeeshop or the library and not emerge until progress has been made - articles read, speech drafts collected, or the like...