Autumn deepens
A lunchtime walk in my quiet, midtown neighbourhood. There’s not a soul out on the streets, and I feel the kind of solitude that wraps around you in a warm, loving embrace. No one can take the gift of my own company away from me.
I walk faster than usual because I have to go back to my computer duties soon. As I make my way down the hill to the ravine, I feel an awkward pull of gravity, which makes me zigzag along the desire path. I feel determined to cut through the tension and run down the hill. A soft smile naturally forms around the corners of my mouth. Is it even possible to run down a hill without smiling?
When I enter the ravine, a soft breeze caresses the branches and delicately signals that it’s time to let go. I stop to watch the leaves flutter about in the air, hovering for a long second or two. It feels like a snow globe scene, but instead of flurries it is bright red and deep yellow leaves. Unknowingly, some get stuck in my hair, which I will come to discover hours later while lying in bed.
There are many rituals and personal practices that keep my inner fire alive during the cold months. A really big part of it is sheltering in music, movies, and books, which saved me from spiralling out of control during the first week of daylight savings. Art saved the week. It always does. Where would we be without our escapes? I wonder.
Fixations:
Leonard Cohen’s discography.
Leonard Cohen’s discography has been on my mind again, especially “Famous Blue Raincoat”. I first heard it a few years ago during a night walk. I was standing at the little free library in front of the house with the big dog that looks like a sheep. At first, the song’s story froze me in place. Then, I walked up and down the street with the track on repeat. At that point in my life, crying felt almost impossible. My spirit was hardened, and there was a numbing, stagnant energy lodged in my throat. This song broke the spell. It softened me.
This week, I found myself returning to Cohen’s tender artistic embrace, from his most vulnerable to his most sensuous.
Rosalia’s LUX.
I remember listening to El Mal Querer for the first time in 2018 while running on the treadmill. It felt like a deeply spiritual experience. Endorphins were high. I felt like I could immerse myself in her world through her lyrics and stories. That album kept me good company that winter. I experienced LUX in a similar way, although this time I listened while lying still and letting the wave of emotion hold me down.My favs from the album:
Mio Cristo Piangi Diamanti
Memória
Magnolias
3. Nouvelle Vague by Richard Linklater.
It sounds really dramatic (and probably annoying), but my life actually changed when I started watching French New Wave films. They remind me that situations can be comedic or awkward and at the same time charming, romantic, sexy, and elegant. I like how the dialogues are filled with depth in very endearing and sometimes over-the-top ways. That’s life.
Linklater’s film is docu-fiction loosely inspired by Jean-Luc Godard’s trials and tribulations while making Breathless (1960). It made me want to revisit the French classics I haven’t watched in so long.
Guillaume Marbeck as Jean-Luc Godard. Surprisingly, his first feature film. Epic. The second part of this podcast (19:51) talks about the making of the film:
4. Cindy Lee’s concert.
At 8pm, we finally decided to buy tickets for the show. The show started at 8pm. Somehow, we arrived on time. The concert gave a quick, graceful tour around the track list, ending with Just for Loving You I Pay the Price with The Little Dippers’ Forever instrumental as a backtrack. So special. Definitely one of my favourite concerts this year.Here’s an old vid I found of that performance
I missed you! talk soon…