August 19th, 2010
Once again inspired to blog by the rolling scenes of a film, this time Last Chance Harvey, I wonder if everyone beyond the age of a child lives with deep regret, a pained memory that tugs on their heartstrings, a fork in the road where they steered right instead of left. I certainly do.
Does that, in of itself, make me human? Is that the singular thread that ties us all together?
Those who haven’t seen this slow-unfolding Dustin Hoffman flick haven’t seen the bruised, pulpy basket of apples that I picked some seven years ago, the you-can’t-win-kind-of-situation that ultimately led to me… losing.
You see, I am the product of a typical North American family. Two mothers, two fathers, a half sister and two half brothers. This is what I grew to know since knee-high to a grasshopper… or, in terms of age: 2. It always made perfect sense to me… until one day, it didn’t. The day I graduated high school, and I came face-to-face with that time honored tradition of dancing with my father(s).
Do I flip a coin? Draw straws? Play a mean game of One Potato, Two Potato?
For all those wondering, I split the dance into quarters. Step-father (who raised me since I was knee-high to a grasshopper… or, in terms of age: 2.). Mother. Father (who remained in my life… on weekends to start, then bi-weekly, then, monthly and on holidays and special occasions). And, finally, my grandfather.
Fast forward some seven years later, and I was faced with Unnatural Selection once more. The walking-down-the-aisle-dilemma. I didn’t want to break hearts (I had never done so before, why start now?), I didn’t want to leave anyone out (I had always been keen at sharing), but somehow I managed to do both. In one fell swoop.
What I wanted was for both the man who was responsible for creating me and the man who was responsible for bandaging my scraped knees to take the long walk with me towards my brand-new life. Somehow that vision imploded, and what I was left with was a father who kept his distance from even the boundaries of my wedding day. He never saw his only daughter in her wedding gown. Or, heard her say her vows.
Six years later, I wish I could give him that moment back. All of those moments.
So, thank you Harvey. I am much wiser for seeing it through my father’s eyes.
Posted in Deep Thoughts | No Comments »
August 18th, 2010
August 18, 2010 – Here I sit. In front of my oversized, over-indulgent flat screen television (thanks to my electronically-obsessed husband), watching, for the third time, a feisty little feature – Julie & Julia.
The first time I popped this film into our DVD player, I sat snuggled up in bed, mourning the escape of our beloved family cat, Libby. She had slipped out during Christmas dinner the night before, and after a sleepless night of awaiting her arrival home (to no avail), I settled in for a film I had wanted to see since first spying the trailer some time before. There was something beautifully organic about the snippets; I knew I would feel at home with the storyline.
And, during that very first viewing, I did. As a cheeky writer who, other than in front of her laptop, is most comfortable in the kitchen, who is filled with hysterical idiosyncrasies, fell a little crazy in love with the wonderment that is the relationship of Julie to Julia.
Then… the ending. My eyes fell sad. My heart broke. In fact, it took me months before I accepted the finality, that more often than not, life doesn’t grant Golden Tickets to Utopia.
The second time around, I didn’t watch with that same hope that in the end, Julia Child would ultimately show up on the doorstep of Julie Powell, iconic pearls in place, iconic nasally voice wafting through the air, fulfilling my want, my need for a Happily-Ever-After. Instead I saw it as a tribute… to both an amazing Chef of butter-laden French food and a writer who had previously lost her way. It was in this that I saw what I had originally been searching for, but in a less than obvious way. The happy ending wasn’t meant to be the meeting of the minds of Julie and Julia, but rather in overcoming the obstacles they each faced through the journeys of their professional and personal lives.
It took me some time to realize it, but once I let go of the clichés so typically associated with fact-based-stories-turned-Hollywood-productions, I found the absolute beauty of Julie & Julia. From beginning to buttery end.
Posted in Random | No Comments »
July 26th, 2010
It took ten years of detouring to find my way back to Penticton, the city I called home right out of high school. And, in that decade, I saw a small but valuable life in Victoria, Calgary and Kelowna. I met my husband, had a child and settled down into the role as wife and mother. Through all of that, it never once occurred to me to return, but now here, I wonder why I left.
In leaving Kelowna behind, is it possible that we passed through a sort of secondary dimension? The mere moment the iconic white lettering appeared on the sage-brush dotted mountains, the seemingly endless knot in my stomach unravelled. The rat-race was over, so was the competition with leggy blonde bombshells sporting head-to-toe Ed Hardy. Nothing remained but a slower paced lifestyle and the essence of a casual resort town.
Trading in a 1500 square foot townhouse for a two bedroom condo was, at first glance, worthy of tears shed. And, even now, I miss the Bard’s etched quote on the latte coloured wall of the dining room. With each day, my grip on the past is a little less. Eventually, it will reside in the back of my mind as nothing more than a peg on the map of places I once lived.
Until then, I live, work and breathe a new future. I enjoy the laughter of both old and new friends. Penticton quite possibly was the best decision we could have made. For now…
Posted in Random | No Comments »
June 17th, 2010
When life hands us lemons, we are apparently supposed to make lemonade. But, what happens when life hands us lemonade, a semi-sweet version of something once sour?
It seems as though we thrive in finding ways to refine an already-enhanced bi-product because we are rarely satisfied with what we have in hand. In recognizing the silver-lining only under negative duress, I wonder, do our hectic lives blur all the lovely bits of life taking place around us each moment?
Regardless of our current situation – our occupation, financial outlook, relationship status – we are driven by the need to improve; to do better, to be better. Contentment becomes impossible as we manoeuvre through a walled maze like mice in a bad science experiment. Instead, perhaps, maybe we should stop for even a split second to appreciate the road we have traveled rather than focus solely on the journey ahead.
In standing still and contemplating what we have when we have it, we are more likely to stop the agonizing stretch of living outside of the moment.
Posted in Deep Thoughts | No Comments »
June 9th, 2010
From corner to corner of our lovely 1,528 square foot home, I see bits and pieces of a lifetime, of a family. The archway to the kitchen holds proof of my daughter’s sizing, every six months a visible marker of aging. Now, as boxes litter the floor, I realize how much I will miss the roof that covered our heads for three and a half years.
It’s only a house – I’ve said that plenty of times since deciding to sell. But in truth, it has been more than that. It has been a time capsule of sorts; it holds memories, laughter, a part of each of us. And so it will be for the next owner…
For us, for now: Penticton.
Posted in Random | No Comments »
June 7th, 2010
There are tangible memories, those of which are yellowed and glued to the pages of a photo-album, names and dates scrolled on small pieces of paper indicating the who and what of it all. They are joyous occasions of weddings and birthdays, ear-to-ear grins and bath-time bubbles –the foundation that life is built on.
There are also memories that exist solely in pixels, fragmented pieces of an experience that somehow fit together – even when we wish they didn’t. There, imprinted on our hearts, those fragile moments stay – even when we wish they wouldn’t.
And, if we could walk a day in someone else’s shoes, only then would we realize how even though the journey is different, the beginning and end are the same. Defining moments are found somewhere in between, the nuts and bolts that hold us together.
Taking a train ride down the track toward Would-have-Could-have-Should-have, we know the obvious stations to get off at. Hindsight, as they say, is always 20/20. But life doesn’t work in reverse. Without a magic potion to take us back to yesterday, last year or a decade ago, we have to be ok with what we have done… said… chosen.
But there’s an upside to not doing the right thing the first go-round…
It gives us the footing to be better, to think rationally, to grow and smile and be healthy. Reflecting on the years of wasted energy in attempting to connect the dots to form someone other than myself, I somehow think that had I not gone through that, I wouldn’t appreciate this nearly as much.
Maybe regret can exist only when we doubt the importance of the memories we’re most afraid to learn from…
Posted in Deep Thoughts | No Comments »
May 25th, 2010
This week has been a whirl wind of writing, film screenings and arranging meetings and interviews. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even a fancy new pair of Chanel stilettos.
Editorial deadline for Gonzo is fast approaching and though I have a handful of assignments to finish polishing, the bulk is done. To ensure finality of projects, I’ve done the unthinkable and cancelled my plans to attend the much-anticipated premiere of Sex and the City 2. For those of you who know me, this shows serious dedication… Am I right?
I met with Leo Bartels today (of Leo’s Videos on Pandosy) and got his feedback on some of his favoured OIFF films. He was such a wealth of information and managed to heighten my excitement of the upcoming festival. I can’t wait!
I’ve scheduled an interview tomorrow with Kennedy Goodkey, co-writer/producer of The Beast of the Bottomless Lake. Thanks to a dear friend (Zenta!), I was able to land the fantastic opportunity to talk to one of the masterminds behind this amazing locally-themed film. For those Ogopogo-enthusiasts, this can’t be missed.
All in all, Gonzo has been such a good fit for me. I’m challenged to think beyond what I’m used to and for that alone, I can’t help but be in a constant state of elation. Not too long ago I was clueless as to where I was supposed to be, what I was supposed to be doing.
I’m getting there… a little closer every day.
Posted in Random | No Comments »
|
|
