Belated

Yesterday was a college friend's birthday. Of course I am still working on her card as I just can't get it right. It isn't a work of art even at its best, but it needs to be something that shows how much I care especially as I haven't spoken with her for months now. Why do I let so much time elapse? Why do I hesitate to write or call friends and family back? Why do I let days, weeks and then months (or even years) go by before responding?

I remember during the summers I would go a month or two without talking to my closest friend at the time. Both of us were too involved in other things and we didn't mind the time spent without talking...it made no difference in our friendship. I suppose this is what it is to be at heart a loner and a homebody. It is hard to explain how wrapped up you can become in your own mind, thoughts and world unless the other person is likewise occupied.

Blast From the Past

This was a draft post dated September 28, 2007...I think it is time to dust it off and publish the sucker. Please remember that I was writing about the past and it may not properly reflect what I now feel. I have been working on my perception as perception is so incredibly important! In fact your mind can persuade you of quite remarkable things and some of them aren't healthy in the slightest.

I have been meaning to share a very special blog with you, dear reader. I think the minute you begin reading Orangette you realize what a blog should be: personal, warm, friendly, witty, informative, whimsical and charming. In fact, it is little wonder that Molly met her husband through her blog. For a lovely little real life romance centered around food (a certain lemon cake actually) check out the link to their Food Network profile.

I think this brings home how blogs can bring people together. I know that in the food blogging world (yes, there is one) fellow bloggers have established friendships exchanging ideas, tips, stories, recipes and information. They also actually visit each other. I find this sweet and amazing as I find it hard to even catch up with friends that live in the same city. I think it opens my eyes to what lives other people lead that seem to have sweeping vistas.

For me most trips are carefully, nearly painfully pondered where I have to skirt around possible problems and constraints: financial, time, logisitics, not to mention the huge clothing dilemna. I make everything much harder than it should be and it is all due to insecurity on my part. The actual travelling I relish, it is the process prior to the journey that bothers me. I have this fear of what people from my past will think of me to the point I have hidden when I have seen someone from high school in a store. This is arrogant on my part as I don't think they would necessarily remember me anyway. I usually remember people while they forget. The problem is this fear extends to family and friends. I hide from them too. When I didn't I had to prepare myself for it and I wasn't always successful....

In July of 2003 I went to a college friend's wedding in Maine. The trip in general was fantastic and the wedding lovely, but the night before the wedding I was struck with such waves of sadness, embarassment and a sense of not belonging or fitting in that I couldn't eat (a highly unusual occurance for me) and sat reading some local paper fighting back tears for which I luckily snapped out of later that evening and was in good spirits for the rest of the weekend. Still, I felt awful about my moodiness and inability to deal with the emotions in a "normal" way. In the back of my mind the episode only reinforced my own ideas of being socially inept and too damaged to be much of a friend. I had faced a similar situation at my maternal grandparents' 50th Wedding Anniversary a few years before in which I felt paralyzed by a feeling of profound alienation and shame at being me whilst surrounded by family.

The years following college I had a crisis of identity and I forgot how to related to others. My world became smaller and smaller as I tried to find meaning and understanding about myself. My route diverged from the norm quite radically. I didn't pursue a career nor did I pursue a romantic relationship. My feelings of alienation only increased until I became isolated, anxious, and ashamed. I assumed it would be better to stay out of people's lives than corrupt them. Yes, dear reader, I was maudlin.

Bonds

Habit although not a sexy concept is actually necessary for creating strong relationships. There is nothing like seeing someone or talking to someone on a regular basis to foster a sense of closeness. In college I often lived in the same dorm as my friends and ate dinner with them every evening. After graduation we all went our own way and no matter how you look at it we are not as close as we once were. I have no idea what each of my friend eats each night, although I do remember which friend nurses a coffee after dinner, which friend dislikes tomatoes, which one doesn't like sour cream and which friend that eats vegetables by choice. Do they still have the same food preferences? This I am not sure of, but if I were in contact with them on a consistent basis perhaps I would be. I haven't actually communicated with any of them for a while other than sending a holiday card. This is a stage in life when friends that live hundreds of miles away usually take a backburner to working on developing a family and local network of friends and career.

When you fall out of step of meeting up with someone or communicating with them your connection loosens and perhaps slips. Some friendships can survive such distance depending on the level of desire to maintain such friendship on both ends, but most simply disappear until one day you no longer know the friend you once knew so well and they fade into a stranger. Therefore of all commitments of time the most important and vital--outside of those to remain vibrantly, authentically ourselves--are those to others we want to remain in our lives. You have to invest consistently into such relationships and they are work...no relationship is without work as much as we wish to delude ourselves. Some seem easier at times. Other times it is hard to push yourself to keep in touch, or at least it is for me because of one reason or another...low energy for instance. You have to consider though--and I am again taking stock what with the new year--who you want in your life and how to strengthen or revitalize slackening bonds.

Melancholy Delusions

Last night I dreamt of a middle school/high school friend of mine. I stopped him by grabbing his elbow and I excitedly said his name. He smiled, said hi and promptly went on his way. He was terribly important to me in that moment and yet I was just a vague and distant memory to him. I realize that is the way it works in real life as well. I believe for most people others are interchangeable, as they don't see another as an individual so much as what they do for them. When you begin to really get to know someone, no matter what their quirks or issues, you see what makes them unique (and hopefully you celebrate it). When that person is no longer in your life, you miss them and they can't be replaced. I have many holes in my life where once there was a friend.

Another friend of mine told me I would forget him when he left my life like he assumes everyone else has in the past. He had no idea of who I am. In some ways I wish I could forget and easily get over it like most people seem to be able to do. I suppose there are those of us who are meant to remember, as our wounds never fully heal. I sometimes feel like Miss Haversham frozen in her decaying and brittle past. I am haunted by who I have lost and occasionally overwhelmed by the bursting of distilled emotion. Maybe my purpose in life is to be a witness.

It is amazing how quickly I can feel completely alone as if somehow everyone else in the world are separated from me by an invisible barrier. I realize that this is all in my mind. Why should one moment I feel connected, in touch and the next isolated? I have friends and good friends at that, but still I don't feel I have anyone I can turn to when I am in certain moods as either the bonds of friendship only go too far or they simply are unavailable.

An extended family member once called me aloof and another said I was cold. Perhaps I am both things because there is a fundamental truth that causes me to remain remote: I don't trust anyone entirely with my emotions. I believe at a young age I realized an inequality of feeling and meaning. I was overly sensitive and overly attached.

Perhaps that was a mistaken interpretation on my part? Perhaps I am still living under false presumptions? Do I give myself too much credit and others too little? It would be funny, but not entirely surprising, if I have been living life according to childish delusions.

Belated Congratulations

I received a lovely email from a good friend of mine last night in my dabblerextraordinaire inbox. She conveyed a surge of support for this little blog. I happened to be chatting with another friend of mine when the email came through and this friend I was chatting with also expressed appreciation for the blog. There are moments when you can feel enveloped by your friends' regard for you--that was one such moment. I can't thank my friends enough for their continued support of me and for all the wonderful compliments about this blog.

My friend who emailed me also brought to my attention how I haven't congratulated her yet on the addition of her first nephew into her family. Funny she should mention it because I have tried twice to do just that on this blog. The first time I began a post with the sentiment but somehow it became very maudlin, therefore it is still in the draft stage. The other time I attempted to congratulate her about the birth of her nephew I second guessed myself (because I thought it might be bad manners) and edited it out. I guess in the world we live in you express something in whatever medium you have at your disposal.

So, my dear friend, I congratulate you for becoming an aunt to an undoubtedly adorable nephew. He is a most fortunate baby boy to be surrounded with so much love and acceptance. More particularly I know that your nephew is blessed to have such a warm, caring and nurturing aunt.

Follow Through

I am trying to keep on top of my correspondence. There are people to write by email, others to send a birthday card, belated wedding card (yes, that is on my list and I have a clue about the design), anniversary cards, etc. Then there are the phone calls. I have a mental list of people to call. I enjoy phone calls, but don't talk too often on them because of the fact that when I do I can talk for hours. I am not sure how appreciative people are of this proclivity so I tend to call rarely.

Correspondence in whatever mode or medium you use is terribly important to remaining connected with not only friends, family and acquaintances, but the community and world at large. Also, as I mentioned in a previous post I am aware of my own responsibility of maintaining relationships, redeveloping those that have slipped away and fostering new ones. I have quite a few more friends from my past to reconnect with or at least attempt to reconnect with as our lives may have moved in too disparate of directions to be any thing more than an acquaintance now. Still, it is worth the effort to convey to someone that they still remain in your thoughts and to acknowledge the meaning they have or had in your life.

In an effort to be prepared for the upcoming holiday card-making extravaganza I am making an effort to be organized and most importantly REMAIN organized. In the past I have been a sprinter making a mad-dash-beginning but falling short of the end, but I am working on becoming a marathon runner who paces herself. I think I become so seduced and dazzled with a larger-than-life image of myself by doing tasks in such a spectacular way that I loose energy, momentum and heart in face of the looming monumental goals I set up for myself. I then let others and myself down. Being an all or nothing sort, one missed birthday and the whole dream falls apart for me. Erosion of self-image, etc. ensues until I feel so embarrassed or ashamed of my inability to complete something I may go so far as not communicate with the person I feel I have disappointed.

For instance, a friend from college had a lovely child more than two years ago (actually he shares a birthday with my sister and another friend of mine). I took a class at my favorite store to learn how to make this certain little scrapbook for the little man as a gift. I began it and it remains incomplete and so now two years have passed without me making a gesture to celebrate this friend's son and instead of just remaining in touch, I did the cowardly thing and remained silent stewing in my guilt and causing perhaps irreparable harm to an important relationship. I forgive myself for being dumb. Now, it is time to actually do something!

When I was in middle school and still went to Sunday School (something I really dreaded), I had this lovely teacher...I can't remember what exactly she taught (we had several classes with different teachers much like regular school), but I remember her saying how she hated the word "sin" and preferred using the euphemism of "missing the mark". I liked that then and I still do. I miss the mark a whole hell of a lot and I am learning how to forgive myself for it and then to make amends. It is all well and good I feel guilty, but what good is the guilt if doesn't motivate me to do better? A therapist told me that my intentions are good, but do I want to have people constantly give me a break because I meant well? It is a pattern I have relied too much on...people usually want to give people a chance for whatever reason and I have taken advantage of that.

I believe I have skated by a lot in life because I have been blessed by too much good fortune. So many things come too easily to me that when I actually had to work for something I didn't know what to do. Rather than work, I often would blame myself for not having the natural ability or avoid it entirely. It was a cop out and it is still something I find myself wanting to do. In the end, it is best to deal with things head on than let them build until they become issues, therefore the need to communicate and follow through.

Tomorrow happens to be World Card Making Day and I, dear reader, plan on making some of those cards that I have intended to make, but haven't done yet.

Celebrating Life

This Saturday I found myself at another baby shower--actually only my second (my first being this summer and held for the older sister of the woman for whom this particular baby shower was given. I even had a chance to make the acquaintance of the little man that was the reason for the first baby shower. He is unbelievably even tempered like his parents. I wonder what his little girl cousin will be like?). I have also only attended a handful of weddings in my life too. What can I say, either I don't know many people or circumstances mean I can't attend (lived too far away) or didn't know a friend when they married or had babies.

The two baby showers I attended were truly joyous and fun events because of the hostesses, guests of honor and guests. These are generous, warm, happy and creative souls. I have met all of the ladies through a local stamping & paper arts store. This means that there are a slew of handmade cards and gifts, which are passed around for all to see and enthuse about. This particular baby shower was held at the home of a friend who is an extremely gifted multi-media artist with this incredibly colorful, whimsical house that you could spend your life in and still find something new and wondrous to explore. Everything about her house has her mark on it. The colors on the walls are bold with colors like marigold, terra cotta and cobalt blue. There are pillows sewn and created by her on her emerald green couch, art (hers and others) everywhere. Her studio made us all envious: it is large, well organized and brimming with fascinating objects, books, tools and projects. Her front yard and backyard also show her artistry including mosaic pots and garden steps she has made (and fountains made of found objects). Many of us wondered if we could just hang out in her studio, peruse the books and watch her work.

I think one thing we all came away from the baby shower with is that we thoroughly enjoy each other's company and we need to get together more often. In that vein, we are going to have one dinner this month and perhaps more in the future. One of the reasons for the addition was to have plenty of room to entertain friends and family. So far we have only had a couple of dinner parties and two holiday dinners. We try to go all out for the dinner parties, spending hours culling through our vast collection of magazines, cookbooks, newspaper clippings, downloaded recipes and the like. I love the planning process of putting together a menu from different sources designed specifically with the specific guests in mind that makes them coo with delight and feel special for all the care and attention we give to them. We don't play it safe either. We try a set of new recipes that allow us to experiment and try new techniques, flavors and ingredients.

For October's Halloween inspired party we are going to do heavy appetizers rather than a more formal dinner party and also in the works for later this autumn or winter is a party with appetizers, three soups (I adore soup), homemade breads (I adore bread) and cookies & bars (you guessed it, I adore cookies & bars) for dessert. I also want to try a supper club, but that is another things entirely....

I do know one other thing: having these ceremonies bring vitality, brightness, humor, warmth and a sense of the extraordinary to everyday life and makes me aware of what is most important and nurturing when the mundane and dreary tries to take hold.

Acting Like Glue, or a Rambling Telling of What I Did on My Trip

I am back in the office this morning after returning home around midnight. Yes, the trip ended up being wonderful, but how could it not when you like everyone you are around and also it is in a part of the country which is majestically beautiful? We drove through the night Wednesday (I should be honest and mention I never drove this trip. I hate driving other people's cars as I have less confidence in my own driving than other people do which I then project on others in order to influence and often undermine their opinion of me--this is a pattern as if I am dodging certain aspects of adulthood in the vain attempt to remain ever youthful and irresponsible) and arrived at my aunt's doorstep early Thursday afternoon. I should warn people that the highways and interstates in Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama can be rather rough at times while Tennessee, Georgia and North Carolina seem to value smooth roads.

The only aim I had when I reached my aunt's house (other than greeting my grandparents and aunt) was taking a shower. It ended up that my grandparents and aunt were at a doctor's appointment when we arrived so I went straight for the shower missing them when they came home very briefly between appointments. My need to be clean once again causes minor problems. Still, I did end up seeing them a few hours later and they are in much better form and spirits than they have been for a while. Of course I missed the Move which I hear was quite horrendous for everyone involved but most especially for my dad's youngest brother. I don't imagine he will ever read this blog (in all honesty I have not disclosed to any family I do blog--strange how we sometimes keep aspects of ourselves from even those we are closest to), but I still wish to acknowledge the huge effort he made.

Thursday evening my grandparents and aunt took us to a model home similar to the house they are presently building and then we went to their house which is framed in and will soon be sheet rocked. I can't tell you how happy my sister and I were to see how excited and giddy my grandparents are about building their house. My grandpa for all his years still has this childlike smile which lightens his whole face in glee...it is truly an awesome thing to see and warms this blogger's little heart, dear reader. Their house is coming along very nicely and I can't wait to see it when it is complete.

Friday late morning found us all on the road caravanning to the Seabee reunion in North Carolina. The city of Asheville is rather lovely nestled by the Smoky Mountains. Asheville is also a college town with wonderful artistic character and charm. The downtown is peppered with little cafes, shops and galleries. We did walk around downtown a bit and go through several antique shops in search for a dough bowl for my mom (or biscuit bowl as she calls it) and the next day we were triumphant in our quest (that occupied much of our two afternoons in Asheville). Friday afternoon on our return to the hotel there were a few familiar faces: my dad's older brother, his wife and also as a surprise for my grandparents, my uncle and aunt's oldest son and his girlfriend. It ended up that our party of 10 made up a third of the Seabee reunion and we were 4 less in number than last year. I think our family is infamous (be it good or bad) among the regular attendants of the Seabee reunion, so much so that when my dad pulled up in my sister's car with it's Texas license plates the man who organized this year's reunion (his father is a Seabee) who happened to be in the front of the hotel immediately called out our family's name (they know a contingent hails from Texas).

We were a happy bunch Friday evening keeping amongst ourselves in one of the rooms of the hospitality suite, chatting and catching up. By happy accident we all sincerely like each other. We all have our faults, but in the end we are easygoing, intelligent (without being too esoteric), fun people who know how to enjoy family and laugh often and well. I think we feel a little guilty that we have used the Seabee reunion as an excuse for the past few years for a family reunion. In fact it looks like next year we may bypass the Seabee reunion (depending on the grandparents' health otherwise someone will take them) in favor of an actual meeting around the area my grandparents and aunt now live. Still we will miss the great people we encounter at the Seabee reunion and the numbers are decreasing as the years pass. My grandpa was one of the younger of his unit as he went into the Navy at 17 and it is very interesting to listen to the gentlemen speak about their time stationed in the Pacific. My life would have been far poorer for not meeting the men stationed with my grandpa and their families.

On Saturday night there was a banquet for the Seabees including a silent auction. A daughter of a Seabee donated several custom framed items (all really well done by her) to the auction including a lovely Seabee postcard. My dad bid on it (as a gift for my grandpa) only to have my grandpa outbid him, then to be outbid by my ornery, mischievous uncle. I finally outbid them all and won the item only to immediately hand it over to my grandpa. We had a laugh because all the bidding was for naught, but the money did go to a good cause and it will make a good story to tell within the family.

Sunday a bit after noon we once again found ourselves on the road this time returning to Georgia. We all wish to return to Asheville when we have more time to devote to the area and its many options (no, dear reader, I hadn’t even a chance of even seeing Biltmore Estate to my chagrin). I drove with my aunt and grandma home and my aunt arranged for me to be picked up by a friend of hers after she dropped me off from a fantastic used bookstore I had visited on an earlier trip to visit her on college spring break whilst everyone else went to check out the new house. Find me a well stocked bookstore and I am purring with pleasure. My aunt knew it was a grand gift to me to give me that opportunity.

We capped off our final evening by going to a restaurant with my aunt's friend, followed by an evening talking in my aunt's living room laughing about various stories we told. I know that around my father's side of the family I feel more than accepted, I feel wanted as if they had all the options in the world they would still choose me as a family member. Honestly, I feel the same way.

I think this trip really solidified just how important family is to me and also made me more aware of what my position affords me. As a female I believe we usually are the glue of a family (I am not sure if your family is the same, but if a woman doesn't like her in-laws there is just not that much contact unless her husband is mightily forceful about keeping ties with his family) and as I have no significant other (and certainly no children) I have even more of an ability to devote time and effort on the family of my birth while other family members are building their nuclear families. So although I am sad that I seem destined for a perpetual single status for whatever reason, I am not alone in anyway and I can strengthen an already promising and receptive familial bond between our members.

Also, what I acutely noticed during this trip was the fantastic network of friends my aunt has created and fostered. A friend of my aunt wished to extend her hospitality to my sister and I whilst we were in Georgia. She and her husband were extremely gracious and generous to the extent we each had our own room, a bathroom to share between us and hot coffee waiting for us in the morning (my sister dislikes coffee, but I gladly drank a cup as I am not a morning person at all and I was regularly waking up around 7:30 am eastern time--6:30 my time this trip). Of course there was also the other friend who without hesitation picked me up from the bookstore. I am glad I had the chance to meet both of my aunt's friends again. It was fun to try to find a personal thank you gift for our hosts in Asheville (we both did a little investigating of their house to come up with alternatives which we believed they would enjoy--don't worry it was nothing intrusive, just observing our surroundings) and we settled upon a stained glass dragonfly sun-catcher as our hostess had a collection hanging from the windows of their eating area.

Monday morning we were again on the road--our final leg of this trip. We spoke for an hour or so about all we had done and about our family and we all ended up very happy with the trip and the family we were fortunate to be born into.

A Missive's Message

I think I can safely say 2/3 of my waking hours are spent on correspondence of some sort--I correspond constantly for work and leisure, learning and pleasure. I often forget how much time in the past was dedicated to the art of correspondence. In the days when there were not even telephones a large portion of the day was spent writing to friends and family too far away (only a few miles could take hours to travel to and from) to visit regularly. The now often empty dining room at one time used to be a place someone could write letters.

I rarely pen a note much less a real letter, but I still treasure them. I remember when I was little and I spent the night with my then best friend we would sometimes create stationary using whatever art and craft tools we happened to own--I am positive that some of that stationary is lovingly packed away in some box of mine. A few years back one holiday season during college I made sets of computer generated personalized stationary for my friends and another time I created stationary as graduation gifts for other friends.

When I returned home from college--using some of the stationary friends had given me as gifts through the years knowing my love of stationary--I tried to remain connected to the friends who were more like family than friends during which we shared nearly every dinner together for four years (and much of our time away from studying) by writing them letters. As convenient as email, phones and the like are, there is nothing as personal and heartfelt as a handwritten note, card or letter, nor such a testament of the sender's regard for the person receiving such a missive. Some of the letters I wrote remain in my possession never sent, waiting to be opened by those they are addressed to...little time capsules that once I find again I will send off along with new words of greeting to old friends.

This week I received a lovely thank you note from my college friend whose marriage I had attended just last month and I realized that I should have been the one writing a thank you. Her handmade and handwritten note reminded me of the value and importance of such correspondence and also what our friendship meant to me during college and how much I still value it. Years may have passed, but suddenly I remember who we all used to be, how we lingered over our meals long after the dining hall had emptied of all others and how special a time it was....

I think of these entries a little like those letters only the recipient is you, dear reader, and perhaps my future self when I need a little memory jog.

Insomniac Ramblings

I can't sleep. I go through periods of time when my mind is working and I have no off switch (I am lacking the owner’s manual). At these times I am haunted by the past or feel some dread about the future. Sometimes what I am thinking about makes no sense because it is a mélange of indefinable emotions. I have tried writing several different entries tonight (Saturday) and only now have some direction (admittedly rambling) well after 2:00 am on Sunday morning.

Tonight I watched Hot Fuzz (tremendously entertaining British comedy which is close to the magic of Shaun of the Dead although I would have to give the edge to Shaun of the Dead as it is a zombie movie and for whatever reason I truly enjoy zombie flicks) for the first time and followed that with The Matador (rather decent film). Seemingly these two movies don't have too much in common, but I found a congruent theme or perhaps my restless mind only found it because I was gravitating towards such thoughts anyway. The theme I mean is friendship. The protagonists of both films live to work (they may be opposite sides of the law, but that is neither here nor there) and they are rescued quite literally and figuratively by their only friend in the world. In The Matador, the protagonist (an aging hit man played by Pierce Brosnan) and his friend (a salesman played by Greg Kinnear) don't know each other long or all that well before a bond is forged.

I wonder about the moment friendship solidifies and becomes bracing? Why do we feel an immediate kinship and willingness to trust some people and others it may take years to come to realize their importance in our lives? I suppose often it is being receptive to or in need of the connection. Also there is a necessity for reciprocity of need and dependence on each other or at least there is for me.

Conversely, when do friendships deteriorate and fall apart? Can't you remember someone who was so vital to your life 2 years ago only being a whisper of a thought now? Do we change so much? Call me foolish or delusional, but I have always thought I could sense when a friendship of mine was nearly at that point when it crumbles and in the past rather than fight or question my feeling, I have left with no resentment (I hope) on either side. Did I perhaps leave too early? Was too much the coward? Incorrectly read the signals? Or perhaps, dear reader, I analyze too much? Why is it that I have far too many questions and too few answers?

Thankfully documenting all these endless questions has made me tired. Dear reader, I hope I haven't likewise put you to sleep.

Commenting on Commenting & Film, Part I of Many

First, about the blog: Do I read the comments? Someone asked me this question and the answer is YES! I savor the comments by those kind enough to leave them. I haven't yet replied to the comments as I am not sure how I wish to handle them. For me nothing is simple. Do I answer each comment like I would an email or message (for anyone familiar with how I write when I am focused you may realize why I hesitate to do just this--I tend to be the equivalent of an avalanche)? For those people I correspond with (at this point only friends are commenting), do I reply to them personally off the blog? Or do I read the comment, ponder them and perhaps use them as inspiration or the like for future posts? For instance, I am not sure he is aware of it, but Eric was the impetus of the Public vs. Private post. An "anonymous" commenter posted some suggestions that I may follow in the future. At this point, I am going to mix it up and use my discretion. I did wish to let those who have commented on and off the blog know that I appreciate every word you have written!

Now on to something else: movies. I watch a lot of movies and not all of them are good by even the most liberal of definitions. My philosophy on movies (and books too) is that even by watching lousy movies I am learning to more fully appreciate the better films. At the moment I am trying to catch up on cult films, silent films and foreign films all with the help of one of the best channels on cable: Turner Classic Movies (TCM). I could write an ode here to TCM, but I think the sheer repetition to which I mention it in glowing terms will undoubtedly make apparent the extent to which I am an ardent fan.

Last night I watched a French silent film I had recorded: The Passion of Joan of Arc (or in its original title La Pasion de Jeanne d'Arc). It is a visually beautiful film first of all--stark, haunting, harrowing and naked with music written for the film at a later date, I believe. What most impressed me when watching this film was the commitment and devotion of both Joan of Arc and that depicted by the actual actress. This was the first and last film made by the actress, as I was informed by the ever informed Robert Osborne when he introduced the film, and her performance is considered by many as the best ever captured on film. High praise, but if you ever watch the movie I wonder if you aren't likewise riveted by the raw power of her eyes alone. I contemplated if I had seen another actor invest so much in how their eyes welled up with tears or widened in horror or terror? Something often lost in films since gaining audio is the subtly of movement in as simple as a blinking of the eye, the hardening of a lip or slight slump of the shoulder. We humans betray what we think and feel in those actions...in our individual ticks. The motions and expressions in silent films are often larger and more grand than in life, but you begin to realize how important the body is when understanding emotion and a character. I am sure this is not lost on the stage, but I believe in movies (mayhap mostly those from the States) too many other things detract and distract from such simple facts.

The Passion of Joan of Arc is actually the second French silent I have seen in as many months. Both have been surprisingly enjoyable and I must admit to feeling a bit self-congratulatory about how cultured I consider myself after watching such movies. Now, dear reader, do not worry that I will suddenly become a film snob. Keep in mind that I still watch such gems and masterpieces of cinematic art as Waxworks II: Lost in Time and Joe Dirt with glee. My mind may strive for intellectual depth and emotional resonance and it may also be able to determine the level of quality, yet my little heart is an equalitarian. I am a lover of both brilliance and pure crap.