I was shocked to hear that one of my favourite film directors died: Ingmar Bergman.
My friend lives near him, actually met him a few times. She is in a deep state of mourning as all of us who knew and loved his work.
I had a dream of meeting him one day - thanking him for being such a huge influence on me. It was because of his film Persona that I decided to go into filmmaking.
In her email just a few minutes ago, she also mentioned that Antonioni died yesterday as well.
Another big influence/idol of mine.
what a very sad cinematic day.
There is a saying that famous people die in threes.
Let's hope it's not somebody I love...
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
scribble mind
scribble mind
my scribble mind
a toxic epitaph of
coagulated negativity
downshifting from
self loathing to reluctant acceptance
of those 40 years we cannot change
just review, proactively revise for future
decades
it is in our hands
this future I speak of
is in our grasp -
old crone hands
starving children
pass it around
this hope, these tools
work into an answer
of the universal definition of fear
and debunk
that myth
my scribble mind
a toxic epitaph of
coagulated negativity
downshifting from
self loathing to reluctant acceptance
of those 40 years we cannot change
just review, proactively revise for future
decades
it is in our hands
this future I speak of
is in our grasp -
old crone hands
starving children
pass it around
this hope, these tools
work into an answer
of the universal definition of fear
and debunk
that myth
simpsonized
I needed to see the funny side of things today.
this is me "Simpsonized"
No pheunomnia - perhaps mono.
My lungs are still clogged with shit - chronic bronchitis
I'm not going to give you more antibiotics - just a cortisol inhaler. Might take up to a month to work. And the fatigue - that's a viral thing just like the bronchitis.
yummy...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
my current center of the universe
“The madness of depression is the antithesis of violence. It is a storm indeed, but a storm of murk. Soon evident are the slowed-down responses, near paralysis, psychic energy throttled back close to zero. Ultimately, the body is affected and feels sapped, drained.”*
This feeling is compounded by so many things - physical illness, psychic exhaustion, impending financial ruin - all arriving at the same time in one cataclysmic meltdown inside my head. I often wonder if this next emotional earthquake will be the one that sends me into the ocean of oblivion. I've been there before - on the precipice of madness, but almost four decades of struggling have finally begun to erode my grasp on hope and faith. Not even the complex chemical brain boosts in multi colored pills seem to help anymore.
Oscillating between two extremes, my soul rests somewhere in the middle of this dark apex of a shaken existence. This past year has sucked the life out of me. Sink or swim - I wait for the calm in this storm.
I'll be back with the rest of my NYC trip when I find my equilibrium again.
Will miss you all.
*William Styron - author of his autobiography - Darkness Visible - a memoir of madness
If you know of anybody who suffers from depression, or you yourself suffer from it, I encourage you to read this book.
This feeling is compounded by so many things - physical illness, psychic exhaustion, impending financial ruin - all arriving at the same time in one cataclysmic meltdown inside my head. I often wonder if this next emotional earthquake will be the one that sends me into the ocean of oblivion. I've been there before - on the precipice of madness, but almost four decades of struggling have finally begun to erode my grasp on hope and faith. Not even the complex chemical brain boosts in multi colored pills seem to help anymore.
Oscillating between two extremes, my soul rests somewhere in the middle of this dark apex of a shaken existence. This past year has sucked the life out of me. Sink or swim - I wait for the calm in this storm.
I'll be back with the rest of my NYC trip when I find my equilibrium again.
Will miss you all.
*William Styron - author of his autobiography - Darkness Visible - a memoir of madness
If you know of anybody who suffers from depression, or you yourself suffer from it, I encourage you to read this book.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
the power of intention and other wonderful things...
I've been listening to Dr. Wayne Dyer - downloaded 30 podcasts over the past few days. Been forcing myself to get into the habit of joining him at least once a day. Day 2 and I already feel different.
Perhaps it's just the pms monster talking; the melancholy mushy wushy/sob at the drop of a cookie/everything is all about the drama mode, or perhaps what he is saying is making perfect sense.
Mom is coming to pick me up soon - figures. Just when I'm having an inspiration bout of non-fictional diarrhea...
what I've learned so far:
trust your instincts - since you are connected to God, all the information that you intercept is from him.
We are connected to the source: The source is a divine energy that existed before anything really existed. We are all energy - molecular particles in motion = energy. Everything is energy.
Another interesting thing he mentioned - to paraphrase:
We are all energy. Our eyes and brains are calibrated to see the world around us as solid. To see this energy as a tangible thing. Sound is energy at a higher level. Light is an even higher energy. The source is the highest energy of all.
One woman called to talk about her son - 18 and committed suicide. The last year of his life he was diagnosed as schizophrenic.
These people are the only ones on this earth that are closer to God than any of us.
and it hit me
I remember before my breakdown, it was if I had superpowers of perception. All my senses were uber sharp, almost too sharp. It seems as if I didn't have the proper faculties to process all that information. Everything around me vibrated and hummed. Even the buildings, streets. Noise had a different essence - touched my ears and brain in a different way. Spiritual things began to make sense: principles of enlightenment, re-birth, karma. The mysterious spirtial fog of ancient religious writings and teaching began to open up my consciousness. Aside from the moments of sheer panic that the world was going to end, or that I'd be killed, I felt privy to many mini "zen" moments of peace and understanding.
What was going on?
My mind went into 5th gear and out of control... (quote from my film Clair Obscure)
perhaps my guard was down.
Perhaps I had thrown all understanding of the world around me out the window because the world I knew didn't exist in anymore inside my tormented state of mind.
what does it all mean?
I came through it with more questions than answers.
Perhaps though my journey to make this documentary/exhibit about using photography, self-portraiture as a tool for healing may contain the answers I was looking for.
or
Perhaps there aren't any answers, just more question, but maybe with time, we can understand that they are not meant to be solved, just contemplated upon. Move into a state of grace and awe over this thing called life.
or bla bla bla.
in a week from now I'll look at this and say to myself: what a load of horseshit!
or maybe not.
hopefully it will all begin to make sense.
Perhaps it's just the pms monster talking; the melancholy mushy wushy/sob at the drop of a cookie/everything is all about the drama mode, or perhaps what he is saying is making perfect sense.
Mom is coming to pick me up soon - figures. Just when I'm having an inspiration bout of non-fictional diarrhea...
what I've learned so far:
trust your instincts - since you are connected to God, all the information that you intercept is from him.
We are connected to the source: The source is a divine energy that existed before anything really existed. We are all energy - molecular particles in motion = energy. Everything is energy.
Another interesting thing he mentioned - to paraphrase:
We are all energy. Our eyes and brains are calibrated to see the world around us as solid. To see this energy as a tangible thing. Sound is energy at a higher level. Light is an even higher energy. The source is the highest energy of all.
One woman called to talk about her son - 18 and committed suicide. The last year of his life he was diagnosed as schizophrenic.
These people are the only ones on this earth that are closer to God than any of us.
and it hit me
I remember before my breakdown, it was if I had superpowers of perception. All my senses were uber sharp, almost too sharp. It seems as if I didn't have the proper faculties to process all that information. Everything around me vibrated and hummed. Even the buildings, streets. Noise had a different essence - touched my ears and brain in a different way. Spiritual things began to make sense: principles of enlightenment, re-birth, karma. The mysterious spirtial fog of ancient religious writings and teaching began to open up my consciousness. Aside from the moments of sheer panic that the world was going to end, or that I'd be killed, I felt privy to many mini "zen" moments of peace and understanding.
What was going on?
My mind went into 5th gear and out of control... (quote from my film Clair Obscure)
perhaps my guard was down.
Perhaps I had thrown all understanding of the world around me out the window because the world I knew didn't exist in anymore inside my tormented state of mind.
what does it all mean?
I came through it with more questions than answers.
Perhaps though my journey to make this documentary/exhibit about using photography, self-portraiture as a tool for healing may contain the answers I was looking for.
or
Perhaps there aren't any answers, just more question, but maybe with time, we can understand that they are not meant to be solved, just contemplated upon. Move into a state of grace and awe over this thing called life.
or bla bla bla.
in a week from now I'll look at this and say to myself: what a load of horseshit!
or maybe not.
hopefully it will all begin to make sense.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
*coughs*
Going on week three of this horrible thing that has gone beyond any definition of a normal flu.
Did New York City really knock the wind out of me that hard?
I basically slhep myself to the bathroom, kitchen to feed the monsters, and then back to bed.
There are 14 cracks in the ceiling, three of which are making me very nervous.
Crosswords have done their part in keeping my sanity in my possession.
But it's the exhaustion - sheer wipe out.
I'm afraid it's walking pneumonia - I will go to the clinic for a chest x-ray tomorrow.
I will demand a chest x-ray at the clinic tomorrow...
E got back from san francisco on friday afternoon.
Or has it been longer than that already?
I can't even begin to imagine how mom managed to get through a year of chemo and not want to give up.
"I'm sick of feeling sick" - now I know 1/10th of what she must have felt.
I really just have enough energy to write this post and go back to rest.
Frasier has been my saving grace as well - he's good therapy for a weary spirit and shabby body.
God. So many stories to write - so little energy to write them...
Did New York City really knock the wind out of me that hard?
I basically slhep myself to the bathroom, kitchen to feed the monsters, and then back to bed.
There are 14 cracks in the ceiling, three of which are making me very nervous.
Crosswords have done their part in keeping my sanity in my possession.
But it's the exhaustion - sheer wipe out.
I'm afraid it's walking pneumonia - I will go to the clinic for a chest x-ray tomorrow.
I will demand a chest x-ray at the clinic tomorrow...
E got back from san francisco on friday afternoon.
Or has it been longer than that already?
I can't even begin to imagine how mom managed to get through a year of chemo and not want to give up.
"I'm sick of feeling sick" - now I know 1/10th of what she must have felt.
I really just have enough energy to write this post and go back to rest.
Frasier has been my saving grace as well - he's good therapy for a weary spirit and shabby body.
God. So many stories to write - so little energy to write them...
Monday, July 16, 2007
My Safe Place (Behind The Lens)
As I accumulate stories from people who have used photography (self portraiture in particular) as a tool for healing, I'm always amazed by how man of us find comfort behind the lens.
"This is my ‘safe place’, always behind the camera. Doing these self-portraits has been an intense experience of photo-therapy and has helped me examine my self and my illness, as well as providing therapy."
In actuality, it's just a piece of metal and pastic, right?
Thnks Emma Kitten.
"This is my ‘safe place’, always behind the camera. Doing these self-portraits has been an intense experience of photo-therapy and has helped me examine my self and my illness, as well as providing therapy."
In actuality, it's just a piece of metal and pastic, right?
Thnks Emma Kitten.
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