Movie #18 - Frida

I watched Frida last week, over 2 nights, and very much enjoyed it.  It would have been very annoying for anyone watching this with me -  I take notes when watching movies now, and so a 2 hour movie can take substantially longer.  It has taken a bit to digest Frida though, a process I suspect will continue for some time.  Right now, it's still unfocused in my head so I'm hoping writing this will help it settle.  I wonder if watching this movie is totally different for non-creative types?  Well, it must be, as everyone sees things differently depending on their situation.  It would be interesting to be someone else though to see this movie from a different perspective. 

I like seeing things.  I've noticed that if there is a lot of dialogue, I notice less visually.  (Incidentally, I just watched the episode of NCIS which includes the line from my sub-heading; I've also been reading a Jasper Fforde book which includes descriptions of the RealWorld from a BookWorld perspective - the narrator is amazed at how much detail is in the backgrounds.  I was on high alert for backgrounds while watching the show).  While there was a lot to absorb aurally, the visuals were so well done in Frida.  Which is a good thing for a movie about artists.  The way in which Frida's artwork was incorporated into the movie was seamless and so clever, and the camera work - mwah.  Actually, the first thing I noticed was the setting.  One of my favourite authors is Isabel Allende, and the setting, particularly of the parents' house in Mexico City, was just like looking into my mental image of many of Allende's books. 

There were four things about the messages in the movie that stood out for me.  1 - relationships.  2 - why we do art.  3 - life isn't perfect, it's how we live it that matters.  4 - you can achieve as much as you think you can achieve.

1.  Seeing the way marriage is approached - from a Mexican, Communist, artistic, early 20th century viewpoint - was interesting.  Especially for someone who is artistic, single, and who plays at weddings.  Frequently.  I know that relationships can work - my parents are still together after more than 4 decades, and I have other couples in my circle who look like they'll be together forever.  But I'm single, and I have many couples in my circle who have not remained together forever.  And, playing at weddings, you can get very cynical.  Aside from the soppy vows and princess syndrome, if cracks are evident to outsiders on the wedding day, it doesn't bode well for a long and happy life together.  Not to mention the statistical likelihood of divorce.  There were a few lines in this movie that caused me to pause and write down the quote.  The first was at Frida and Diego's wedding, from a Communist Party guest: "Marriage is, at worst, a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense.  At best, it is a happy delusion, these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how miserable they are about to make each other".  In this current climate, it's probably not quite so much the first option - although it's not out of the question - and I would hope it's not really too much the latter.  But I guess it depends on your choice of partner.

Frida entered into this marriage fully aware of her new husband's character.  She knew he was a womaniser.  Early on, she asked her father "What do you think is important for a good marriage?" "A short memory" is his reply.  But, after one of many 'indiscretions', which happen too often to be slipped under the rug of a short memory, she says she cannot love him for what he is not.  And, she loves him (sometimes, in that very passionate borderline love-hate way).  Women, of course, see love and fidelity differently.  We want to find a Leon Trotsky (maybe not with the affair-with-the-artist bit, but nobody's perfect), "someone who's willing to sacrifice a little of his own pleasure instead of hurting the woman who loves him".  The fact that Diego comes back to her late in life and is true to the end made me cry, to be honest.  How lovely - but how frustrating!  Maybe creative men can only be true when they've had all their (extensive) running-around time.  And what that means for me... it can be a little disheartening.  But, moving on.  I'm going to jump to numbers 3 and 4 here.

3.  Even though Frida had a challenging life - a traumatic accident, a life of physical pain, a philandering husband, being an artist - she really lived.  She really loved.  (4) - She set her own goals, based on her own ideas for her life.  Doctors telling her she would never walk again did not stop her from walking again.  Society saying young women should marry and reproduce did not stop her dancing a tango with another woman (and more...), marrying late and not having any children (except for one who died at birth).  She lived her life and endured much more than she thought she could.  There were some things that seem to be universal, though.  Infidelity hurts.  The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.  The kitchen is the best place to get to know someone, and cooking is a great way to bond, even if it's with your husband's ex-wife who is living upstairs and still cooking him breakfast.  Our hopes and expectations are two different things: we can hope to marry someone who will be faithful, but if we expect it we will be disappointed.

2 - I could really identify with Frida's drive for art.  My most productive practice sessions, and inspiring or passionate performances, all come from emotion.  As someone who has a generally ordinary life, this can be a bit of a drag.  But that need to turn to a creative outlet - a bit like the 'pensieve' that Dumbledore uses in Harry Potter - is such a huge part of life, a natural reaction.  How do non-creative types deal with heartbreak???  And not just as a way to deal with what life throws at you.  "If you're a real painter you'll paint because you can't live without painting, you'll paint til you die".  Of course, this also comes with the existential angst with which I am well-acquainted - "My little paintings can't mean anything to anyone but me".  On one level, there is little purpose in what we do - at least, in terms of furthering humanity (we're not curing cancer or anything) - but there is something to be said for creative expression which connects us and makes us feel.

Writing this has helped the digestive process, as hoped.  Accept others for who they are, with all their blessings and faults; live your own life the best way you can; live as much as you can; do what you are driven to do and you will have lived your life well; happiness and fulfillment are not the same thing.  And, perhaps, make sure you can cook.

Nearly forgot the photo for today:

Winter sunlight hitting the last pear and lemon in the bowl.

The Gold Coast Half-Marathon

...Or, things that make me happy:

#1:  Going Away (if only for a night).  It is especially exciting (or happiness-inducing) when associated with a running event - the general buzz that surrounds these, as well as the mass of like-minded enthusiasts, makes for a great atmosphere.

#2:  Beating the Queue.  Once checking in (to a more-budget-than-expected-hotel, but blessedly close to the race precinct), we had a practice walk to the start line, then went back to the pub - it was on the way home, after all.  We were about 3rd in the queue.  By the time we ordered, the line went out the door and then some.  Dinner in a Gold Coast pub on a Saturday night is a slice of the roil Straya.  The IGA slogan, "the way the locals like it", came to mind, but there were also many runners.  Some had done the 10km on Saturday (some as a warm-up) and others were just there for the half and full marathons.  A large group commandeered several tables next to us and were a stereotypical bunch of runners. 

#3:  Although I was really tired, I couldn't sleep (heart rate was up around the 100 bpm mark) - but having a store of music in my head was really helpful.  Unfortunately, I had a mariachi tune on repeat in there as well, but I tried to drown it out as much as possible with Rachmaninov's Isle of the Dead, which is my sleep music.  Even so, I had very little sleep - I was still wide awake after 11, woke several times during the night, and the alarm went at 4:20. 

#4:  Knee Pain Disappearing.  I went running Thursday and Friday, and my left knee developed a weird, new pain, which didn't respond to stretching or rolling-out.  I was resigning myself to a substantial stretch of walking, but by Saturday evening the pain was minimal, and when I woke Sunday morning it was gone. 

Pre-race nerves. 

(Not sure what the weird light is at the bottom corner of these photos, we think it's something to do with the flash...)


#5:  Amenities.  After leaving my bag at the left luggage place (no queue), I then joined the rather lengthy line for the toilets.  I was in this queue for about 40 minutes.  I actually reached a toilet at 5:58am - the race began at 6am.  Yes.  This made me happy.

Bring it ON!

#6:  Watching the sun rise over the water.  How good is that?!  Especially when you're not just in pajamas, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, slippers on your feet, maybe on a balcony...or still inside because it's still a bit chilly...  But running.  Love it.  And, seeing perfect reflections in the canals, birds waking and having a morning fly - beautiful.

#7:  Preparation.  Little things and big things.  I've changed a few things about my longer running procedure that have made life easier.  I now put pre-emptive Bandaids on each foot at problem spots (I have weird feet).  I prefer to run in a cotton tank.  I carry lip balm for when my lips are dry but I'm not thirsty.  I wear a cap if I'll be running during daylight.  I know how far I can go before I need a drink (about 7.5km is good).  I am immensely glad I did the practice run on Monday.  Any thoughts of that being too soon beforehand, or not a good idea to run the full length at all beforehand, vanished as my brain recognised features.  Although it seemed to go quicker today (well, it actually did), I know that was partly because it was not the first time I was seeing these landmarks.  Not only that, but I knew, quite consciously, that I could run this distance. 

#8:  Shirts.  I was boring, and just wore my newest Lorna Jane.  Shirts I saw that made me smile included: Like A Boss; You Should Quit Now While I'm Ahead; and Crossfit Foxes.  The last was one I kept seeing as we kept overtaking each other. 

#9:  Running.  Well, duh, but this is a big one.  When I first decided to do this, I figured that a time of about 2 hours 10, maybe 15, would be respectable.  But then I realised that I'm not a fast distance runner.  About 6 weeks ago, I stopped trying to be fast, and started trying not to walk.  I feel this has been hugely successful.  Now I only walk if I'm in pain - and today, I was in no pain.  Instead of having a time goal, I really wanted to run the whole way, and walk only for drink stops (so, not stopping movement at all).  I accepted that if my knees were really sore - and, from experience, I knew this would probably happen - that some walking would be involved.  But it was only in the last 3 km that I even noticed my knees, and it was definitely not bad enough for me to need to even think about walking.  And if I did happen to start to think that thought, I'd see someone ahead of me who didn't look as fit as I feel, and I'd keep running.  Having trained on a route with some hills, I am more inclined to go faster up hills - this wasn't so important on the way out, but was really noticeable on the return.  The last bridge (these were responsible for the slight rises in the route) I overtook many others, and was so happy I really lengthened my stride on the way down - which was also a spot chockers with photographers.  I also knew that, by doing a steadier pace throughout, I'd have more left for a stronger finish.  I didn't want to be one of those who starts really strong and cocky and is walking the finish.  Instead, I could feel my pace pick up in the last quarter, and I was really running the last 400m with a big sprint finish.  And even better (yes there's more) - the slowest pace marker was 2 hours 20, and I only saw them right at the very end, crossing the line on her heels.

#10:  Cheering Onlookers.  Being a fairly solitary runner, this surprised me.  But seeing kids in pajamas and dressing gowns, and people holding signs, and people clapping (or using clappers) really made me smile.  And the signs!  U Make it Look Easy; Smiling Makes You Run Faster; and, my favourite (my brother's too), Go Random Stranger, Go!  The crowds were much thicker for the last 2 km, and hearing people cheer on strangers made me quite emotional.  Especially right at the end when it was obvious they were cheering me - it was all I could do to hold back the tears.  Not just the feeling of total strangers cheering me on of course, but knowing that I've run this, further than ever before, when a few months ago 10 km was a long run, and oh hello running high...

#11:  Ministry of Funny Runs (followed by a coast-ful of funny walks).  I have often thought, I hope I don't look that weird when I run.  In fact, one of my excuses for not being a runner (before I stopped caring what other people thought) was that I probably looked silly.  So, someone is probably saying the same thing about me right now, but I saw some interesting running styles.  I don't mind so much when I overtake and that's it.  But when a funny runner is ahead of me the whole time - what's with that?!  The funniest I saw was the slap-footed, elbows out, hands by hips run.  By a guy with serious hair (which always caused 'Give me a head of hair/long, beautiful hair' to start up in my head).  I'm quite thankful for my body shape, with hips over knees so my thighs don't have to skirt around each other.  And afterwards, seeing a whole lot of fit-looking people limping around Southport - even if they weren't wearing a finisher's shirt.  On a more serious note though, watching the marathon runners... whoa.  When they had about 15 to go, most were still going ok, if a little over it, but you could see some doing the knee limp.  When I was waiting by the finish line for my brother to finish, I saw a man do the really serious knee limp - arms flailing and you just felt sick watching.  20m from the end, he collapsed.  The announcer called for sports medicine to the finish line, but 2 other runners helped him up and practically carried him over the line.  Huge cheers and tears from the crowd.

Finisher's Shirt and Medal

#12:  Achievement (even if it's for others).  This was my brother's 2nd marathon, and he wanted to do it in under 4 hours.  So when I hadn't seen him yet at 3 hours 55... and then 3 59, the announcer called out that it was less than a minute before 4 hours, and all these runners ran!  I spotted my brother, cheered him on, and got a bit emotional as I knew he'd made it.  With, I discovered later, 10 seconds to spare.  And that was the gun time so his net time would have been faster. 

#13:  Being Part of Something Big.  There were 10 thousand people doing the half marathon.  And it sounded like it!  There were parts where it was fairly quiet... except for the slapslapslapslap of thousands and thousands of feet hitting the road.  And although it thinned out a little, it took many kilometres for that to happen, and it was still relatively thick the whole way.

#14:  Feeling Sore.  For a good reason.  After the practice run, I had slightly sore knees the next morning (going downstairs only) but was fine by the afternoon.  Today, I have sore knees and hips and calves and ankles and arms.  Chafing was not as bad though, mostly because I didn't carry my phone this time, and the preemptive Bandaids were welcome but not 100% effective.  I'm not bleeding anywhere though and I think with a good stretch over the next day or 2 I'll be back to normal in no time.  Having a little nap this evening I could feel my feet and lower legs twitching and this I found immensely satisfying.

But for next time...  I was inspired by those who were running and raising money.  So, next time will be not only a different location (it's a secret - but I wonder if anyone will guess?) but I'll sign up for everyday hero and make someone else happy, too.

Movie #17 - Life As A House

I was given the impression from one person that this was a totally cringe-worthy chick flick, but obviously the person who loaned it to me thought it was a worthwhile watch.  So I began not really knowing what to expect.  Seeing the 'R' rating gave me a little shock, but it was nothing overly outrageous.  Some pill-popping and teenagers being teenagers. 

This movie made me cry buckets.  'Sweaty eye syndrome' was suggested, but this was more along the lines of 'sweaty because I've just run a marathon barefoot over gravel' syndrome, so I'll just admit I bawled.  More than I have in a long, long time.  But in the middle of a teary part, something would happen to make me laugh, so I think I could watch it again and enjoy it.  (There are some really funny lines).

There was so much in this movie.  How to make something of your life, even with only a few months to live.  What makes us happy.  How to make our kids happy and productive people.  How do you know who you are?  How we relate to our parents, how we see them and judge them and react to them.  Even though the movie was made about 10 years ago, it is so pertinent to today.  More on that soon.

The family situation reminds me a bit of the 2 movies I've seen in the last year about school killings.  A house which is more magazine than home, and a father who is more absent than involved.  And a lack of hugs.  Not so apparent in the other movies (Beautiful Boy and We Need to Talk About Kevin), I only really noticed it here because the youngest child is so free with giving hugs.  When he gives an unsolicited hug to his dad, the dad finds something that the boy needs to fix (wash hands or do homework or something like that).  On the subject of physical contact, one scene really struck me.  In the earlier part, the main character, George, is in hospital and his nurse touches his forehead.  He comments that he hasn't been touched in a while and the nurse is surprised.  "Everyone is touched by someone who loves them", she says.  That is taking so much for granted.  There have been times in my life where I've been without physical contact for weeks and weeks, and only when a student has given a spontaneous hug that the drought has been broken.

This movie also highlighted the connectedness of our lives.  We see a family extended through divorce and remarriage.  As the house gets going, neighbours start to chip in and by the end there are about 20 people at work.  The Problem Neighbour is persuaded not to stop progress of the house as he is unfortunately connected to Sam (the 16-yr-old son of George).  Another neighbour - actually, if I say there are decades of neighbourly interaction I think that will be enough.

Rules, boundaries and risks.  Such a fine balance that is needed.  Children need boundaries, guidelines for what is ok and not.  But when does a boundary become a box?  George had been restricted by his father's ideas for his whole life and only when he has merely months to live does he pull down those walls (literally and figuratively) and make his life his own.  Although his death is terribly sad and so frustrating now that he's making good connections with his son, how wonderful that he had this forewarning that he didn't have long, and the courage to do what he needed to do with his life.  Not all of us get this chance, or the vision to see past the walls put up around us by ourselves and by others.  We need boundaries, but we also need to take risks.  If we don't take risks we don't grow and are again restricted in our lives (just like me ice skating yesterday), plus we don't develop the resilience needed when life deals us a surprise blow.  As I said, just as pertinent now as 10 years ago, if not more so.  Navigating what's ok and what's not, believing in our kids and protecting them from the horrors in the world but giving them the skills to deal with life on their own - I'm sometimes amazed that people manage to turn out well-adjusted at all.

How do we know who we are?  As a creative person, this question has plagued me for many years (closely twinned with Does my life have purpose?).  Sam says, "I am what I say I am", and this is in some ways such a true statement, but in other ways such an unhelpful statement.  I am what I say I am (provided my actions correspond), but how do I know what to say?  I can say whatever I want, but how do I know which version of me is true, and how do I stay true to myself?  How can I build my life to be as Me as I can?  And how can I still be happy?  It seems the key to happiness is to do what we love - which seems like such an obvious statement, but how many of us ignore this and do what we think others want us to do, or do what will make others happy instead of ourselves?  When Sam finally starts to help with the house (against his wishes, but a useful task) he finally finds some self-worth.  Partly because his dad didn't give up on him, but made him stay there for the summer to do something useful with his life instead of wasting those months with a friend.  And how blokey, for them to bond over pulling down a building (it reminded me of the episode of The Simpsons where Lisa thinks she's losing her smarts, and Homer and Bart are delighted by a tv show of buildings being torn down).  Even more, by the end Sam has grown as a person so much that his last act is so selfless, so mature, so right, correcting his grandfather's misdeed. 

So now I need to ask myself: am I happy?  am I doing what I really love?  am I building a house (metaphorically) that I love and is me, or am I building four walls around me that are restricting my life?