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Jun. 10th, 2023 02:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Miriam and I, rather uncharacteristically, have been watching movies lately. I haven't really had the mental togetherness to do a lot else in the evenings. We were going to watch the Clifford the Big Red Dog movie because I've loved Clifford ever since I was a little girl. But during the opening scene where Clifford gets separated from his parent, and the puppies and the adult dog get put in different crates to go to the shelter, I started crying nearly inconsolably, so once I could talk again we decided to hold off on that movie for now.
Instead, we watched The Map of Tiny Perfect Things. It was better than I expected and I really enjoyed it. I had a little trouble with the overarching metaphor of the movie feeling a bit too much like continuing experience of Covid, but it's definitely worth watching if it sounds like your kind of thing.
I've been thinking, too, about the kinds of movies I like. In the last week or so we've watched Logan's Run, Blade Runner (which I hadn't seen before even though I've wanted to for decades), and The Island, and I thought about movies that have meant something to me in the past. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is foremost among them, but I also thought of Donnie Darko, Inception, Dark City, and even The Matrix. I do seem to have a thing for settings where perceived reality turns out to be a fictitious construct, and/or in which the characters understanding of their own nature and experiences is called into question and broken. And that makes me think of the interest I've had as long as I can remember in forms of art that focus on inability to communicate, or the futility of understanding. The Wall, or some of Laurie Anderson's work, or the absurdism and feeling of some unknowable cosmic secret that's always just out of reach in Douglas Adams' work, or plays like Waiting for Godot, or No Exit, or Fuddy Meers, or really most of Dadaist expression, for example.
I wonder if it's felt like a metaphor for my life without me having the experience to contextualize it in that way until I realized I was trans.
But I dunno. I'm tired and am going to bed now.
Instead, we watched The Map of Tiny Perfect Things. It was better than I expected and I really enjoyed it. I had a little trouble with the overarching metaphor of the movie feeling a bit too much like continuing experience of Covid, but it's definitely worth watching if it sounds like your kind of thing.
I've been thinking, too, about the kinds of movies I like. In the last week or so we've watched Logan's Run, Blade Runner (which I hadn't seen before even though I've wanted to for decades), and The Island, and I thought about movies that have meant something to me in the past. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is foremost among them, but I also thought of Donnie Darko, Inception, Dark City, and even The Matrix. I do seem to have a thing for settings where perceived reality turns out to be a fictitious construct, and/or in which the characters understanding of their own nature and experiences is called into question and broken. And that makes me think of the interest I've had as long as I can remember in forms of art that focus on inability to communicate, or the futility of understanding. The Wall, or some of Laurie Anderson's work, or the absurdism and feeling of some unknowable cosmic secret that's always just out of reach in Douglas Adams' work, or plays like Waiting for Godot, or No Exit, or Fuddy Meers, or really most of Dadaist expression, for example.
I wonder if it's felt like a metaphor for my life without me having the experience to contextualize it in that way until I realized I was trans.
But I dunno. I'm tired and am going to bed now.