In this case, a father swan swatting and hissing at the rescue worker who's trying to extract a cygnet from a fence.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Angry protective swan
In this case, a father swan swatting and hissing at the rescue worker who's trying to extract a cygnet from a fence.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Week in Seven Words #226 & 227
226
chilling
There's never sunlight on that door, only a cold, still shade.
choreography
A ballerina soars across a corrugated roof.
dodging
I can see in his expression when he knows he's gone too far, but decides to keep going anyway. He forces himself to enjoy his own rudeness, his own petty cruelty, because the alternative is to be flooded with shame.
picturesque
Oval windows frame the reflection of trees and purple flowers.
reboot
Flopping facedown on the couch: Endurance and patience have been mostly depleted - time to recharge.
uneasiness
Is laughter always a fear response? I think laughter and fear are closely linked. Even when we don't think we're laughing in relief or in nervousness, the jokes we laugh at tap into our anxieties about ourselves. We laugh at things we might become or misfortunes we narrowly avoided. We laugh in acceptance of something odd that might have been dangerous, but is merely strange and possibly wonderful.
whispery
Flower-bearing trees rustling against fire escapes.
227
brushing
He runs his hand up and down his face, as if clearing away cobwebs from his eyes.
demitasse
The smell of sweat and coffee beans. Tinny music seeping out of headphones.
disregard
I am, once again, short on compassion for myself.
immobility
He defines a happy marriage as one that hasn't ended in divorce, not seeming to realize that people may spend a lifetime together in varying states of indifference and hostility.
metro
The air quivering, a dim light in the tunnel brightening, then the racket as the train enters the subway station.
purply
Last light of day slanting onto an empty purple vase.
undisturbed
He is calm and diplomatic. Even when listening to an unreasonable request, he has the look of someone contemplating rare wisdom.
chilling
There's never sunlight on that door, only a cold, still shade.
choreography
A ballerina soars across a corrugated roof.
dodging
I can see in his expression when he knows he's gone too far, but decides to keep going anyway. He forces himself to enjoy his own rudeness, his own petty cruelty, because the alternative is to be flooded with shame.
picturesque
Oval windows frame the reflection of trees and purple flowers.
reboot
Flopping facedown on the couch: Endurance and patience have been mostly depleted - time to recharge.
uneasiness
Is laughter always a fear response? I think laughter and fear are closely linked. Even when we don't think we're laughing in relief or in nervousness, the jokes we laugh at tap into our anxieties about ourselves. We laugh at things we might become or misfortunes we narrowly avoided. We laugh in acceptance of something odd that might have been dangerous, but is merely strange and possibly wonderful.
whispery
Flower-bearing trees rustling against fire escapes.
227
brushing
He runs his hand up and down his face, as if clearing away cobwebs from his eyes.
demitasse
The smell of sweat and coffee beans. Tinny music seeping out of headphones.
disregard
I am, once again, short on compassion for myself.
immobility
He defines a happy marriage as one that hasn't ended in divorce, not seeming to realize that people may spend a lifetime together in varying states of indifference and hostility.
metro
The air quivering, a dim light in the tunnel brightening, then the racket as the train enters the subway station.
purply
Last light of day slanting onto an empty purple vase.
undisturbed
He is calm and diplomatic. Even when listening to an unreasonable request, he has the look of someone contemplating rare wisdom.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Passion Fish (1992): Rediscovering yourself after tragedy and poor decisions
Title: Passion Fish
Director: John Sayles
Language: English
Rating: R (for language)
I love the unsentimental approach to the characters in this film and the friendship that develops between them. The movie doesn't so much have a happy ending, as it has a hopeful one. The characters have grown. They're stronger, and they've found strength in their relationship with each other.
The dialogue is thoughtful and well-written, and the visuals are beautiful. There's no fake or stale Hollywood feeling in this movie. The characters are real.
May-Alice (Mary McDonnell) is a soap opera star whose career ends when she gets paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident. She moves back to her old, empty family home in Louisiana, where she intends to waste away gloriously, watching TV, drinking and driving away a succession of nurses. The latest nurse to turn up at the house is Chantelle (Alfre Woodard), whose quiet, self-contained demeanor hides the fact that she's struggling with some serious problems of her own. The two women become friends, renewing their lives by making discoveries about who they can be and by helping each other. Each character has her own story arc; they develop together and independently. They aren't portrayed as types, but as real, complex people.
Both McDonnell and Woodard are wonderful in their roles. There's also a strong cast of supporting characters, including: an outdoorsman, Rennie (David Strathairn), offering awkward, heartfelt companionship; an easy-going womanizer, Sugar LeDoux (Vondie Curtis-Hall), who circles around Chantelle, offering a good time with no pressure, and an understanding of what she needs; and one of May-Alice's soap opera cast members, the elegant Rhonda (Angela Bassett), who visits her with a couple of other actresses. That visit leads to a really funny monologue, where one of the actresses describes the way she gave her all to a tiny movie role, early in her career, where she had only one line and played a woman who had been probed by an alien. (She really researched that character's motivations, and found a dozen different ways to utter her one line about alien probing.)
Both May-Alice and Chantelle give themselves more fully to life as the movie goes by. The alternative is to blot themselves out with alcohol, drugs or hours of TV. They can either try to escape from themselves through self-destruction; or they can live with greater richness and variety of experience, within the constraints of past tragedies and poor choices. The way they open themselves up again to new relationships and experiences is inspiring to watch, particularly because it isn't portrayed in a cloying way.
Director: John Sayles
Language: English
Rating: R (for language)
I love the unsentimental approach to the characters in this film and the friendship that develops between them. The movie doesn't so much have a happy ending, as it has a hopeful one. The characters have grown. They're stronger, and they've found strength in their relationship with each other.
The dialogue is thoughtful and well-written, and the visuals are beautiful. There's no fake or stale Hollywood feeling in this movie. The characters are real.
Passion Fish Poster. Via Wikipedia.
May-Alice (Mary McDonnell) is a soap opera star whose career ends when she gets paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident. She moves back to her old, empty family home in Louisiana, where she intends to waste away gloriously, watching TV, drinking and driving away a succession of nurses. The latest nurse to turn up at the house is Chantelle (Alfre Woodard), whose quiet, self-contained demeanor hides the fact that she's struggling with some serious problems of her own. The two women become friends, renewing their lives by making discoveries about who they can be and by helping each other. Each character has her own story arc; they develop together and independently. They aren't portrayed as types, but as real, complex people.
Both McDonnell and Woodard are wonderful in their roles. There's also a strong cast of supporting characters, including: an outdoorsman, Rennie (David Strathairn), offering awkward, heartfelt companionship; an easy-going womanizer, Sugar LeDoux (Vondie Curtis-Hall), who circles around Chantelle, offering a good time with no pressure, and an understanding of what she needs; and one of May-Alice's soap opera cast members, the elegant Rhonda (Angela Bassett), who visits her with a couple of other actresses. That visit leads to a really funny monologue, where one of the actresses describes the way she gave her all to a tiny movie role, early in her career, where she had only one line and played a woman who had been probed by an alien. (She really researched that character's motivations, and found a dozen different ways to utter her one line about alien probing.)
Both May-Alice and Chantelle give themselves more fully to life as the movie goes by. The alternative is to blot themselves out with alcohol, drugs or hours of TV. They can either try to escape from themselves through self-destruction; or they can live with greater richness and variety of experience, within the constraints of past tragedies and poor choices. The way they open themselves up again to new relationships and experiences is inspiring to watch, particularly because it isn't portrayed in a cloying way.
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