and why I love him: “In the middle of one of Rome’s most luxurious public living rooms, a seagull had attacked a pigeon, then dropped its bleeding carcass among drinkers at one of the bars.”
I spent a good portion of last summer watching the video diaries of “Matt Gross, The Frugal Traveler.” It became part of my routine: wake up in my hot,sunny room, on a friend’s futon precariously situated on a rickety frame from the street (i think there was literally bubble gum holding it together) get my iced coffee (from the night before) out of the fridge and put this guys stupid videos on while i got ready for another relaxing day filled with nothing.
Although last summer was way better because he was traveling around America. Going reeeal crazy, avoiding all major highways in a beat up station wagon. Now this :
“Well situated, armed with frugal recommendations from a multitude of friends and readers, I faced one last problem — the same one that Mark Twain described in “Innocents Abroad”:
“What is there in Rome for me to see that others have not seen before me? What is there for me to touch that others have not touched? What is there for me to feel, to learn, to hear, to know, that shall thrill me before it pass to others? What can I discover? Nothing. Nothing whatsoever.”
And that was in 1867!”
But, I guess I’m just not sure why he is complaining about everything being too cheap in this article? Isn’t that why you exist in the first place Frugal Traveler? To shine your penny-pinching, thrifty ass, money grubbing light of cheap holiness where even the sun of a thousand gold coins don’t,in fact, shine?
“If you were a bird in the forest (here’s where I start smiling-anticipating images colored with wild plumage,pumas! stalking through the moonlit night,drum beats and wild calls of hot bird sex) you’d be one of those really fucked up ones, who has the loudest call dances-spins around and bites itself in the ass”
Is your neck sore, like i know mine is, from all that lamay whiplash? Do american apparel booty shorts (the pink shame’ is tucked a’way in my top drawer) topped off with an ill fitting,nipple exposing,pit stained v-neck sound like just another tuesday brunch?
Right before being a grown up clown child really blows up (not that I could ever stop that) right before someone convinces me that i really should have day-glo feathers as hair extensions, which i probably should, and that my purple lipstick
actually does look really good,which is questionable, i might make the call to go cold turkey ascetic aesthetic.
not uglyonpurpose,just monochromatic dysfunction. offsetting color coded ensembles by the slightest degree of hue inflection sounds like just the right temperature to irritate even the most color blind of dogs.
(think 5/J and 4/G)
Do something to something
by Chris Kerr believes nothingsomething
whose work reminds me of a virtual,sculptural Jean Debuffet’s. Which brings to mind a favorite of mine, this moth portrait. mostly, because it reminds me of mothlight. the video below.
Each individual frame consists of bits of once living moths which Stan Brakhage collected over many moons.
like “hey stan, what’s up man what are you doing tonight?”
“oh hey, just uh, you know still picking minuscule moth particles from that light in the garage”
Just saw Then She Found Me yesterday. It was weirdly reminiscent of The Savages (linked below), but I think it pulled off the whole neurotic family crisis movie with a little bit more swift softness.
Here are my notes from the movie:
- The camera is soft and awkward, it kind of teeters back and forth as it observes these conversations. like someone who shifts their weight from foot to foot. It felt like how I felt watching some of the more dramatic tete a tetes- although personally, i like the c ontrolled vision of space,evenness and balance, centered and thirded. But maybe it was a good thing it pushed me the way it did?
- Helen Hunt was good. I am not a particularly huge fan, but she has this kind of dry wry blandness which works really well with the film. Similar in performance to Jennifer Aniston’s in The Good Girl the sterility of personality actually flavors the narrative,informs it, flows and grows with it rather than overpowers,drains or washes it out.
- The story itself is pretty much blow after blow. I like how it was almost Job like in it’s treatment of loss. It is very serious, but not without occasional levity. I like that it doesn’t parade around as ironic tragedy (indulgent, in my mind like Noah Baumbach’s The Squid and the Whale was) rather, it moves swiftly and objectively from windfall to windfall.
- Why does Colin Firth always play the same character? He’s like the bumbling Jude Law, “I write books. Book sleeves.”
I think it’s great that Helen Hunt directed this. But there is something so incredibly intrinsic about the camera work which is totally stamped by femininity.It serves as almost a bizarre coding, something so rare that you know that it was made by a woman. Becuase it is so incredibly rare, it paradoxically becomes so obvious. Same thing with The Savages by Tamara Jenkins and Jane Campion’s In the Cut.
I can’t decide if I love it or hate it.
(Asisde: Curiously, it was an all female audience in the movie theater)