Synecdoche and pain

I just got back from watching the movie Synecdoche, New York. I'm not going to start writing about what I thought, because it's too much to ponder right now all at once.
But, I also think you should watch this, no matter what kind of person you are, because it's a movie about life.

On a different topic,
tomorrow I'm doing a performance piece about pain.
I'm pretty excited about it and slightly nervous. It's for my fibers course. We were instructed to create a wearable object--clothing, accessory, whatever we could think of. The plan is to have a "fashion" show to display our work. We were asked to choose a song to have played while we walk our piece down a "runway." That all seemed relatively cool, but I wanted to make more of a conceptual piece than a fashionable item appropriate for that setting. So instead, I'm playing the song Unravel by Bjork and am going to do what is probably distastefully too literal for the 3 minutes the song will play. I will have a red ribbon wrapped around me tightly and for the first minute or so, writhe on the floor in "pain." Then Maryann will come and make me stand up and begin to unravel me from the ribbon. She is removing the pain and suffering, leaving me standing there with a felt skin with sewn scars over one breast and under the belly button. I am still debating whether or not to be wearing a mask over my eyes while in pain in the beginning.
I'm not sure what that looks like since I can't see myself when I've got it on...
It's about the identity that comes from surviving pain and suffering in life.

I was thinking I should post my plans for this performance partly as a way to solidify my thoughts, and partly because it relates to Synecdoche.

Christmas on Mars

See it.
But as you sit down to watch it, prepare for art, or prepare for the Flaming Lips if you know them, or at least prepare for an unusual film.

The only thing I'm going to say about this movie is: the concept for this film was conceived in 2001, but they didn't actually put out a finished work until about a month ago.

I would encourage you to not look up plot summaries online because you can't really describe it. There are too many nuances of oddness for there to be a successful succinct explanation.

And p.s. most of the movie is black and white so this picture only represents moments of the film where fully saturated color appears.

my dreams are infiltrating reality

Dream:
Last night I was backstage for an impromptu play some people I knew were putting on.
They were doing a terrible job so I tried to help.
They weren't being funny and they were acting really awkward and self-conscious.
I thought maybe I could pretend to be an actor/comedian and make the show funny.
There were a ton of people in the audience.

So, I noticed there was a fake convertible made of sheets of plastic. It was low to the ground, and I sat in it and rode it across the stage while they were doing their thing. I made a silly face in hopes that it would make some people laugh. I heard a couple chuckles but apparently it wasn't amusing enough to save the show.
So, I asked Maryann to come help and we rode it together, into the scene, completely disrupting what the other people on stage were doing. We were delivering something to them, but I can't remember what it was. It was some kind of "funny" object.
It didn't quite work either.


Also last night I found out I dreamt something that didn't happen, but was completely convinced it had. It's confusing because it logically must have.
I dreamt that somebody was raving about this author who has written this Vampire series, of which a movie is coming out soon called Twilight. She was talking about how much she loved the books and showed Katie and I an interview on youtube where the author was speaking. She was totally convinced that the author looked like a vampire herself and Katie and I didn't quite agree so we were nicely encouraging while doubtful. Last night I was at Maryann's and she started speaking about this author. I remembered the encounter I just described, realizing it was about the same person, but for the life of me, could not remember who was showing us that thing on youtube. Somebody was also talking about Forks and the fact that the stories are set there. (I think this may have been real, at a local restaurant with some friends of Kevin's) I remember even looking at a map, trying to find Forks. I called Katie and asked her if the youtube encounter was real, and she said that never happened.
But it's crazy, because I didn't know anything about these books until last night when Maryann was talking about it.
That memory must have been a dream, but it was a weird prophetic dream.
I feel like I'm losing my mind and it's honestly a little bit scary.

I don't know what to do with myself

I got back from our art closing reception about an hour ago and I have this energy that I don't know what to do with.
I'm feeling too tired and spaced out to do any work, but have too many things on my mind to go to bed early. I wish I had some sleeping pills to take. I think that would be the perfect solution.

There were soooo many people there, far more than I ever expected. That was exciting. But going from that atmosphere with all those people to talk with and the commotion of the show to being at home alone is too drastic.
Gah!

What to do?!

katie

Last night Katie and I were downtown for 6 hours. Apparently I hadn't had enough of her, so I dreamt of her too.

We were in the art department and there was a substitute for one of my classes. She was tagging along with me the whole day. The substitute was actually an English professor at WWU by the name Margaritas. He had on his regular fancy shoes and khaki trench coat over a billion dollar suit. He turned on some film and told us to sit down and watch it as we streamed into the room. I felt annoyed immediately because he hadn't given any thought to the arrangement of chairs, leaving me with a spot totally uncomfortable. I had to make a fuss and move my chair to be beside him in order to get a good view of the screen.
(Just before I had been in a critique and everyone's art was mind-blowing. They were all students I didn't recognize as well.)
I put the chair next to him, then went to use the restroom. Instead of returning to the classroom, Katie and I walked around. We wandered into a room with mechanical equipment lining the walls. We sat down at the desk, equipped with microphones and all. Realizing it was set up for radio broadcasts, we decided to take advantage. I pressed the buttons and she talked. We aired a show during a regular time slot for some other boring show about hawks or ancient music or something. Immediately after I was paranoid that somebody was going to get really upset with us for messing with their equipment, and we would be punished for making fools of them on air. When I began getting paranoid, Katie got a call from some girls who just heard us on the radio. They asked if they could come by and talk too, to promote their women's healthy body image/sexual awareness/feminism club. They had an acronym but I can't remember it. Katie, being the nice person she is, said of course! and hung up. She told me what they asked and I freaked (mildly). I told her how stupid it would be if we actually allowed them to come by. I also brought up that she had just proudly announced herself by full name on the air so she couldn't avoid the punishment. And topped it off with a persuasive comment on how we were quickly getting out of hand and into trouble. She understood and agreed. Then we laughed and moved on.

no more giving thanks

Just got back into Bellingham from a short Thanksgiving stint of a break.
It was pleasant for the most part.
The food was perfect.

I'm still in pumpkin and comfort food mode so I've got a batch of muffins in the oven. I probably went too heavy on the clove because tasting the batter I got a similar numbing feeling on my lips that I get from clove cigarettes.
They should be interesting to eat.

It is dismal outside and I really do hate it. My mood generally lowers a couple of octaves when it becomes dark outside(if we were to measure our moods in vocal notes). I can't help it, the mood problem is some psychological thing lingering from childhood.


If you're reading this, could you give me some book suggestions? I'd like something interesting to read over winter break.

the sun is out.

I'm in Seattle now, as of yesterday afternoon.
Got to see Steve last night, after months of not. We had about an hour to catch up, so it was a rapid conversation of what we've been doing with a lot of brief explanations.
I'll see him again one of these days and maybe we'll have longer to talk.
One thing brought up that I need to think more about is the idea of returning to China after I graduate. For some reason, being back, I began to fear that idea, but I'm not exactly sure why. I want to figure that out, and then battle it, so that I can make plans to return without myself stopping me. :)
Thing is, my heart actually ached when I overheard a Chinese couple speaking to one another a few weeks back. I think I'm in love with China.

Leila is super duper pregnant at the moment. Her belly is projecting outwards, and you can actually imagine a baby curled up in there now. She keeps telling me to touch different parts of the mound, saying that the baby's whatever part is there at that time. You can feel some extra pressure, but not actual contours of body parts, like I foolishly expected.
They're at the airport or on their way back right now, picking up Leila's sister, Sheda.

We may actually postpone Thanksgiving until tomorrow because the ideal would be to spend the whole day in a joint effort to prepare the meal.

Let's see, what else can I say. I'm kind of bored right now. I just finished up prepping a Journalism poster, which I'll need to work more as soon as I return to Bellingham.

There are a lot of people outside jogging and speedwalking through the neighborhood. They must be prepping their metabolisms for the extra food today. Literally every other minute someone goes by, flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. I'm kind of jealous.

Haven't been remembering dreams. They'll come back though. I'm starting to think I remember them for about a month, then don't remember them the next. There's definitely a pattern.