138 posts from 2007

I'm writing this while sipping some cold white wine, which I had a taste for after watching Nicole Kidman sip chardonnay throughout most of this movie, which I did like even though it had a bizarre ending.  Nicole and Jennifer Jason Leigh were fabulous, but I'm not sure Jack Black was properly cast.  He kind of overacted to the point of absurdity.  The two actresses played sisters who couldn't see eye to eye on anything.  For better or worse, I like Nicole Kidman and this was a film I would see again for its oddity.  I read in the Times that the director wanted to make a French movie with American actors and I haven't seen enough Godard to tell whether or not it owes a debt to him.  It was one of those strange movies that you watch and aren't sure how to react to certain scenes--whether they're supposed to be funny or sad--I went with funny and enjoyed myself.  Most of the movie wasn't exactly funny though; it was odd.  I like movies that tackle difficult emotions and emotions that we don't really have names for.  With the exception of Jack Black, the movie was very interesting and worth seeing, though not necessarily at the movies unless you love elegant ocean vistas.

I saw this movie last night with my family.  Tom Hanks big shot boozing politician.

Julia Roberts godlovin' rich socialite.  Philip Seymour Hoffman CIA agent full of wit. 

The acting was brilliant and I envied Julia her perfect body and envied too the

lifestyles of the rich and famous--the luxury, but do I envy all of the attention? 

I'm not sure.

"Write even when you're tired," she said
Tears silenced the wind
And the dust on the sleigh bed
No sun today only fog and noir night
Getting used to using each other
I dreamt you brought home a baby
Alice wrote in 165 Meeting House Lane
Her first book a book of sonnets
Oh Henry!  Just like me
No cigarettes and plain black tea
And I walk to the sounds from my ipod
Lucky in some ways yet
I may never get out of debt
 
*
 
Sweeter than pears' flesh to boys
The thump of icky music pierced my ears
Waking me from dreams of babies
Dreams of swimming naked languidly
And since then I've been bathing in the poem
Of the celestial flowing mystic sea
Swallowing great swaths of golden moonlight
Meant to guide those home on foot
Who had no use for trains
More great than song, the poem
More great than rhythms of the sun
I know what the setting sun means
And I have seen what others sometimes
Have thought they've seen

Uploaded on October 25, 2007
by jdubsmom

New the Christmas tree and holly

Above the door, new the music

Borrowed from sister

Through which I write, "O, O, O"

This house is filled, warms me

Kindred spirits, old friends their

Familiar wit

                    Sentimental smiles

To cheer from where

They hold out

Always suddenly there stable

Keep me on my toes know

How to entertain, engage

I smile upon them this holiday

Yesterday my sister, mother and I went to New York to see the Christmas tree you see above.  It was indeed magnificent, as Georgia noted.  We also saw the window decorations at Saks Fifth Avenue as well as all the window decorations along The Avenue of the Americas.  They were colorful, lively, and captivating.  I felt pangs of desire to live in New York...

I dreamt of a geisha

Blue on gold her name was Mira

Ink black hair and eyes to match

He saw her before, I woke cold

Called him, his voice to catch

Back to sleep 2 more dreams

Snow falling through the window

Trees at night geisha-blue

I turned, hugged 4 foot pillow

My blood warm clean quickened

Thinking of room we shared, Tokyo

Paper cranes in flight, danced

A winter memory, wistful

I'll wait for him 10 days again

                                                 I dreamt you brought home a baby

                                                And in its hands I saw a bright blue toy

                                                I saw a midnight gown in its future

                                                I saw roses, mountains, unicorns & joy

                                               Nice and strange the dreamer dreaming

                                               Dreaming too of bells and soldiers

                                               Dreaming of life in the cloisters

                                               Among the nuns and sleeping virgins

                                               But this baby knew not of anything

                                               Knew not of soldiers, bells, and cold

                                               I wonder how you came to find her

                                               I hadn’t thought of it before