Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A new start.

So now that the class has ended, maybe the blog can continue though not centered on pain. I have finished two out of three classes. I am glad to be rid of crazy spanish and gender teachers and the stress that came with both. 20 days till I head back north to school. I am counting down by the minutes. This has been the most stressful summer of my life and I cannot wait for it to end.

However with one door closing the new pressure of being a third year mocker arrises. The mock trial team had me physically ill last semester with all the problems and I don't see much relief in the future from it. Quit! People have screamed to me to end it all, but I can't. Maybe I'm a masochist and welcome it but I just can't get away.

At least I will get away from my mother, God knows we need some time apart. We are two very different people who want two very different things for me in life. I want to push myself and she thinks I'm going to fall on my face. Time for a step back and a step away. She doesn't shout anymore and for some reason that bothers me the most out of everything going on. Who knows? Maybe silence really does break the heart.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

A poetic response

When hearing the critizisms of the falling man and other artists, I thought one of my responses should be in an art form.

A ode to the 9/11 artist

Who are we to deny
family, friends and artists alike
the beauty, the sorrow
and an overwhelming wish
for a better life
a kinder death
and the painful awakening
to a world deeply troubled
for all we see is a man
a man who holds up a camera
as only an artist can
and looks through a lens
a man falls
a man dies
the living hold their breath
and wait
but the man with the camera
does as he always has
focus in and snap
it is a shot that changes a nation
a picture that headlines a tragedy
so now we wait
we wait in honor
we wait for love
we mourn but still live
and to the artist
eyes scrutinize and mouths rant
not enough gore or heartbreak
not enough pain
and the experience is judged
art, testimony, accounts
of an event that shook all
and brought a world to its knees
but who will share the pain
look upon a picture created
not of splendor and art
but of passion
for beauty is not lost
when blind eyes are turned
but shoved to the side
and not openly stared upon
still looked at by those
who admire not with just body
but also with soul

Friday, February 27, 2009

Something to talk about in the locker room

We watched Harold and Maude the other day in class. I am in love with the movie. No lie. We watched it on Tuesday in class, on Wednesday I bought it and watched it with a friend, yesterday I watched it again with other friends... it keeps getting better. Especially when I told one friend it was a romantic comedy and she would enjoy it. She did, but not because it was a romantic comedy.

To explain Harold and Maude would be like trying to explain the fun of fishing to a vegan. You don't get the full experience and it loses its majesty. After coming back from the movie, a friend and I were talking about it. People in my suite (especially my roommate) were giving us horrified looks as we laughed about the "suicide" attempts of the movie. Of course we knew that it wasn't real and the movie made it humorous but no one else understood the humor. That is why I went an bought the movie.
The movie itself reminded me of Juno and its lax feel with witty dialogue and mellow music. While Juno is more indie and Harold and Maude is ...well Cat Stevens, it still brings a soothing feel to the movie. Of course after watching the movie (for the second time) we watched Thank You For Smoking (same people who produced Juno). Another out there kind of film.
It is no wonder why Harold and Maude is a cult classic. I am sad I did not discover it earlier and am immensely thankful for the chance to have seen it and more importantly share it. It is an inspiring movie of living life to the fullest and never taking one day for granted. Death is not the end, mearly a new beginning.

Friday, February 20, 2009


A book that has captivated generations but hardly known within the US. As a country we certainly don't branch into many spanish classics, especially when making a summer reading list. Some may have read Don Juan or Don Quixote but few have heard of, much less read, Celestina. I have never read it either. While my father may have been raised in the Puerto Rican culture of Brooklyn NY, I can safely say I have never heard of him speak of the play like novel. It captivates and makes you question to reality of your dreams and desires, especially involving that of your love.
The presentation given by Professor Ealy was interesting. I applaud him for giving such a speech and thought it was wonderful. I was, however, most engaged during the question and answer period both with the audience and again with only the class. I found myself questioning the lack of God in the book, feeling if anything the author was more symbolic than blunt. It made for a fascinating story. The characters were often illusioned by their desires and fantasies instead of being tied to reality and the person they were with. I have never read anything like this and found it interesting if not a bit unusual.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Laughing at things that might not be funny...

An over need to figure out the difference between publish post and save now... *grumbles*

This is super late but I still felt the need to post it.

Last week I attended a lecture on Rape Jokes. It was meant to bring about awareness not defend the topic of rape. Walked into the lecture not really sure what to expect. Rape is a tough subject to talk about anytime but I kept an open mind and hoped for the best. I took three pages of notes throughout the whole lecture. I couldnt stop writing and thinking of points. I dont know if I would even be able to talk about most of them on my blog but I will try.

A video was shown from South Park's - The China Problem. It was the rape of the fictional character Indiana Jones by the director and writer. Now TV in my house was censored when I was growing up, but if I really wanted to I could find a way to watch what I wanted. However I had never watched South Park growing up and in fact only saw an episode a few months ago at my brothers house. I am not familiar with the concept of the show so there may be a bias to my statements. The first thing I will say about the rape scene is that it was intense. I had never felt intensity like that from a cartoon! It shocked and almost disgusted me to the point of I didn't want to watch. Even though it is fiction and not to be taken literally... I don't even know.

I am not one for censorship though and while I don't want to watch it, that does not mean I want it off the air. Films need to be made to send a message to the public, one we may not get otherwise.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Mozart's got nothing on Darren Aronofsky

And we are back...

(as a disclaimer, my own title makes the english major in me cringe)

It was not the first time I watched Requiem for a Dream, nor was it the last. It seemed a lot harder to deal with the second time around. First difference was the setting where the movie was played. Rather than in my room during the day with all the lights on, we were in a dark lecture type classroom with the movie playing as if in a theater. The loud music combined with the size of the projection screen pulled me into the story and I could not look away. I knew what was coming, I knew when it was coming, but I still could not look away.

I brought two friends with me to the movie. We had all watched it together before. It wasn’t that bad. The arm gets to everyone, but it doesn’t bother me. It’s the obvious delusion of the refrigerator and the electric shock therapy scenes that bug me the most. I think it’s a control thing. I hate being out of control of my thoughts and actions. Taking away my independence is akin to taking away air. Having a loss of control over my mind in which I begin to hallucinate to the point where I believe inanimate are attacking me scares me to the core.

I know I am a legal junkie when I am obsessed with the malpractice of the doctors in the movie. There is addiction and self destruction and I focus on doctors violating ethics. But here is my rant anyway… when Sara is in the psych ward and the doctor wants her to sign the paper to allow EST it makes me want to scream. The woman is delusional and having REFRIGERATORS attack HER and he wants her to give CONSENT for EST! OMG, I die a little each time I see it. As well as the doctor who gives these pills! He is drugging his patients and when they call and complain he brushes them off. Having worked in a doctor’s office where we took the HIPPA privacy laws extremely seriously, I cannot even begin to explain how much it bothers me that this was allowed to happen. Some healthcare system …

After I got out of the movie I called my mom. I lost my father two years ago this Saturday and some of the things said in the movie really hit close to home, too close in fact. When Harry goes to visit Sara and she talks about being lonely and her friends not caring I regret leaving my mother so soon after my father’s death. With my brother in the Midwest and me up here at school, it kills me to know she is alone. But she told me we need to continue with our lives and not stop because something bad happens. I always vow to never let that happen to my mother. I vow to never let her get that lonely, that she will always have someone who cares close by. There are times when I get frustrated that I have to call her and force myself to include her in my life but then I see this movie and I take it all back. I care too much to allow myself to push her away. I would give the world before the loneness became that much. In some ways I relate to Harry, loving my mother but not knowing what to do. I identify with the feelings of frustration of living up to expectations, but I can never lie and walk away like that. I resent his character for doing such a thing.

May the characters take the dreams of the lives they always wanted and hold onto them during times of trial. And for all those in the roles of characters in real life (in any part) may they realize that the bit of hope not found can be found even in darkness.

Too many bleak thoughts before bed, and I have an early class. Nightmares about refrigerators ahoy.