All entries for March 2005

March 31, 2005

A date with myself

I've been putting off this date for weeks now. No one really knows how to treat me right, so I decided to have a date with myself, where I can have all the comfort to myself, watch a movie I like and enjoy the food I don't dislike.

Today is looking particularly good for this date I've been planning. So, after finishing all the work I will clear my desk, go to the kitchen, cook my chicken drumsticks, make myself a cup of tea (with three sugars and without anyone giving me 'the looks') and have a nice dinner.

After that I will listen to my favourite music and plan my next day. Then, pop a bag of salty popcorn, move my laptop to the bed, make another cup of tea and make myself comfortable in my spacious single bed. Tonight's programme will include Ke Ke Xi Li and maybe Roger and Me (Michael Moore).

Hopefully, by the time the movie finishes I will be tired enough to peacefully fall asleep. If not, then I may spend some time day-dreaming about an ideal relationship that I never want to have and write down some cheerful thoughts in my little Pooh diary.

There will be no flowers and no kisses on this date. It will be all about me. A celebration of my own love… to ME.


March 29, 2005

Hukkle

Writing about web page http://www.warwickartscentre.co.uk/?page=wac_event_details.html&event_id=2179

I was writing notes when watching this film. Writing notes in the dark is fun. The best bit comes when you walk out of the cinema and read what you've written. Scribbles of all sorts that keep track of what I've just seen. It's pretty amazing, I have to say.

Since Hukkle was a sound film, no one really spoke. Some muttered, some laughed, some gave suspicious looks, but no one really spoke. It made my note-taking easier. Here's what I've written:

'Viewers of a nervous disposition' (quote from Mini's advert)
'Drink Responsibly' (Jack Daniels)

Hukkle is an experiment as I see it. It's a boring, routine, mundane life with slight emphasis on sound and noises. Closed up depictioin of nature and human is unbelievably realistic. Events that are in the bare fact of being captured make the film more special. Cat yawning so naturally, ladybird climbing up earphone wires – nature is perhaps the most natural actor ever.

Beautiful fields like strokes of a large paintbrush. It's quiet and inanimate from up there, but it's vivid and full of life down here.

Drapes made of camera films, dresses made of drapes…

Have you ever stared at the balls of a pig? Hukkle gives you a unique opportunity to study the dangly round bits of a bi-coloured pig. Following the pig, we hear a passionate roar of courtship and happy faces of farmers witnessing and cheering to the love making of their pigs. Discovery channel of the urban wild life.

Even with radio loud on there are still distinct noises of life. I wonder if the people in the film are actually actors and not real people. It seems more like a documentary.

Everything is linked up to another thing. Everything passes the eyes of the hiccuping old man. His hiccups keep the rhythm of life and resemble heart beats.

Gran's disgusting cooking that we never come to question when we are little kids. How much of this is true and how much is make up? It's like a train of thoughts.

Death is an accident. And so is life. Everything remains the same, no matter what great changes are made.

The revenge of the ugly beefy women is what I think this film is about. Well, all films are essentially about life. But this one is a pure experiment that altho looking boring and raw, has its own thin line of humour and a peculiar sense of life.

People and link animals link in Hukkle are surrealistically real.


March 28, 2005

Spider


March 27, 2005

Order

I need a shelf like that to organize my thoughts and to pigeon hole them in order. But if my thoughts are a mess in themselves, then literally no shelf can help. If there was a mold to mold my thoughts nicely, so that they all look alike; or if there was a thought spoon to scoop my thoughts in even amounts, it would be much easier to place my thoughts on the shelves of my brains, and maybe, maybe it'll even cure my messiness somehow.

March 24, 2005

The Blonde Redhead

Title:
Rating:
5 out of 5 stars

For as little as I know about music, the Blonde Redhead is briliant. Their music is unique, expressive and romantic. 'It's like cats screaming'* – said Hamid. But I love that vagueness coming from inside the microphone. The instrumental part is not genius, but done with great taste, that is truly rare.

The male vocal… 'I can sense the darkness'* – was what Alex said about it. It's almost moaning and crying, stretching the sound through the music. It has the mentalness of youth. It makes me imagine a skinny topless male in his early 20's, with a broken guitar and half-mutated voice. Too tired to shout passionately, too much of a nihilist to care about the words.

The female vocal is more romantic, sometimes hysterical; it shares the youthful features with its male counterpart. But it sounds more tragic. Brings up an image of a very artistic individual, with a strong attitude (like Bjork).

Elephant Woman is the most beautiful song from this album. Falling Man is rather ironic and generally genius. Messenger is the most representative song of their work.

*Both comments directed at Distilled from In an Expression of the Inexpressible


His Point of View

He can see her clearly, but he can't see himself. He thinks he's always right. Like, always. He always disagrees with her (mainly because the wind only blows from left to right and not from up to down). He's narcissistic and arrogant, and annoyingly so. He has the confidence of a tree in the body of a flower. She looks down on him. But there was no one else around, so… she nodded.

March 23, 2005

My Favourite Bald Tree

There is a softness in the bald branches of trees. But this only applies to big trees. Mr. Bald Tree of Social Studies County, however, is a small tree. I never thought I would assign a sex to it, but for me, baldness somewhat only associates with men, so it's now a he.

It reaches out for the sky more eagerly than others. Maybe because it's planted among bushes. But I always see it on the background of a clear blue sky. Clear and blue to a certain extend. It almost looks desperate. And somewhat vicious. As if it's angry for not being able to reach the sky.

Oh, and did I mention that it was a He?


March 21, 2005

A victim

England is a dangerous place. With all the louts and chavs, all the drunk/homeless/foodless and deprived - it's one big trap for harmless people like me. Today, however, I got attacked by ducks. It may sound funny, but it felt nasty.

It was a Sunday, off-term time. I just missed a bus to Coventry and was waiting for another one. The duck couple was having a casual walk on the lawn adherent to the Arts Centre. I had a copy of the Guardian and didn't notice how they've crossed the road and ended up on my side of the road.

Now picture this: two ducks, clearly in love, entering the shelter from its two exits and quacking at me. I was trapped in the shelter with no one around to help me. The male duck quacked furiously and the female duck quacked in agreement. They kept moving closer and closer, staring at me with a glance of an enemy. The female duck spotted a chip left by some kind man under the bench. She picked it up and crushed it in her powerful beak. I'm sure she licked her beak afterwards, but maybe it was just my imagination. The male duck in the meantime kept approaching me, moving like a clumsy elephant, slowly but steadily. The quacking never stopped and no human being was around to rescue me. The male duck spotted a gum and attempted to chew on it, but gave up soon as he realized it was a poor taste joke. They stood there for a minute and half, speaking Ducklish to a Chinese person. I felt like it was their world and I was the intruder.

To my relief a Stagecoach bus drove in and scared the beasts away.

On my way to Earlsdon, however, a strange person walking in front of me, turned around all of a sudden, smiled at me (I took my earphones out), and asked: could you show me your belly button please? I was hardly impressed with that request. "I'm doing a project on people and their belly buttons, apparently it has some links to one's personality…". I felt like someone just hit me on my head with a big Flingstones' stick. I thought the killer ducks couple was enough for the day, but clearly, it wasn't. I totally freaked out and told the person so. "It's okay, most people freak out" – said he and walked away looking offended.

I love freaks. I love England.


March 20, 2005

Блок А.А.

Не нравится мне что-то Блок. Декаданс и упадничество. А также нигилизм. А чего тебе жизнь не нравится? И чем тебе любовь трагедия? И думает он, что другие не жили. Но мы все жили, разными судьбами, в разных мирах, иногда соприкасаясь с другими. Колючие проволки в точках соприкасновения иногда вызывают вспышки страсти, но чаще проходят без инцидентов. Но жизнь не обязательно скучна. Жизнь может быть страстна сама собой. Надо только попытаться.

March 15, 2005

The Marking of Spring

The Ice Cream Van is the marker of spring for me. When I first heard its loud tunes I thought it was in my head. At that time I lived in Tocil. Out of my kitchen window I could see students running after the van and I used to relate the image to those I saw in some old Hollywood films. I never purchased a single ice cream from the van, but I did approach the van several times, peeping at the merry bald ice-cream man counting coins in his palm. I don't suppose ice creams from the van taste better or fresher, but I should still buy one by the end of this year to mark another stage in my cultural intergration with 'the West'.

March 2005

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