I thought to append the incredibly beautiful, heart-seizing soundtracks of Sex and Lucia at the end of my post about the film. but the composer really deserves a separate post.
The name Alberto Iglesias shouldn’t be strange to anyone who has watched all Almodóvar’s films. Masterpieces, truly. Besos al maestro.
My body completely surrendered. powerless, like seaweed. It left me shivering in my chair, tears pouring down from my eyes and covering my face.
The first time I watched this movie was many years ago. I was in junior high, meaning super sexually active. I don’t think I even finished the movie, probably jumped to the sex scenes directly and masturbated after midnight.
So yeah, it is very sexual. But not like porn. The mystery part is very David Lynch (when the home dog killed the little girl, Lorenzo jumped out of window, curtains blowing, and point-of-view shots at some other scenes). Reminds me of Twin Peaks, and possibly Mulholland Drive.
Heard of her because of a soundtrack (Shura No Hana / Flower of Carnage / 6:26) in Kill Bill Vol. 1
Looked her up and came across this album. It’s just beautiful…
The overall publicity of the film is just not very appealing. Extremely personal (family history), ordinary-looking latino guy from a terribly normal catholic family in Puerto Rico. There was really no reason for me to pay to watch it except the fact that he was gay and lived in New York in the 70s and 80s and died of AIDS. Even that sounds extremely cliche.
But it was such a surprise. Extremely beautiful, moving, complex, relatable but at the same it also disturbs my mind quite a bit and knocks me out of the perspective and set of believes which I so easily and comfortably sink into and forces me to see where others are coming from and that everything is not so simple. The film is set around the tension between two selves, two memories and sets of history, two worlds separated by water as well as ideology and life experience.
Twins from Cartagena, Colombia who play rumba, flamenco, cumbia, and Afro-Cuban rhythms. Met them one day at Time Square station, amazing amazing music, could not help pausing to listen.
their album available to purchase:
by William Cronon
In William Cronon, ed., Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature, New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1995, 69-90.
The time has come to rethink wilderness.
This will seem a heretical claim to many environmentalists, since the idea of wilderness has for decades been a fundamental tenet—indeed, a passion—of the environmental movement, especially in the United States. For many Americans wilderness stands as the last remaining place where civilization, that all too human disease, has not fully infected the earth. It is an island in the polluted sea of urban-industrial modernity, the one place we can turn for escape from our own too-muchness. Seen in this way, wilderness presents itself as the best antidote to our human selves, a refuge we must somehow recover if we hope to save the planet. As Henry David Thoreau once famously declared, “In Wildness is the preservation of the World.” (1)
But is it? The more one knows of its peculiar history, the more one realizes that wilderness is not quite what it seems. Far from being the one place on earth that stands apart from humanity, it is quite profoundly a human creation—indeed, the creation of very particular human cultures at very particular moments in human history. It is not a pristine sanctuary where the last remnant of an untouched, endangered, but still transcendent nature can for at least a little while longer be encountered without the contaminating taint of civilization. Instead, it’s a product of that civilization, and could hardly be contaminated by the very stuff of which it is made. Wilderness hides its unnaturalness behind a mask that is all the more beguiling because it seems so natural. As we gaze into the mirror it holds up for us, we too easily imagine that what we behold is Nature when in fact we see the reflection of our own unexamined longings and desires. For this reason, we mistake ourselves when we suppose that wilderness can be the solution to our culture’s problematic relationships with the nonhuman world, for wilderness is itself no small part of the problem.
midlife crisis, materialism, self-liberation, love, and fuck…
“Jane he’s a freak!” “Well so am I!”
Attention, all the fuckheads our there. This, is so fucking good.
Salute Sarah Jacobson, you are so underground and sooo cool.
I wrote them down and made them into a mantra.
by Madison Sonnier, from Thought Catalog (link at the bottom)
1. Fake friends.
If I have to question whether or not someone is really my friend, they’re probably not my friend. Point blank, case closed.
2. Societal expectations.
I have walked a very unique and unconventional path in life thus far. I’ve done things slowly, differently, out of order, out of turn, and in ways that make sense to me as an individual. That doesn’t mean I’m on the wrong page. It simply means that I write my own pages.
3. Self-inflicted stress.
Just say no to self-inflicted stress. Stress inflicted by outside circumstances and other people is plenty enough.
This is not in the original article, this is from me: Another reason why stress is bad is that, in my psychology class it is termed “cognitive load”, and it basically makes anyone stupidier(or less smart) in whatever task you’re doing or just in general being a person.
4. Working too hard for too little.
I’ve never been a huge fan of the “work hard” platitude. What are we all working so hard for? If you’re working hard for something that leaves you feeling dull, frazzled, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, used, abused, and mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted beyond comprehension, perhaps all that hard work should be directed elsewhere. I don’t work hard. I work smart.