“It is foolish and childish, on the face of it, to affiliate ourselves with anything so insignificant and patently contrived and commercially exploitative as a professional sports team, and the amused superiority and icy scorn that the non-fan directs at the sports nut (I know this look—I know it by heart) is understandable and almost unanswerable. Almost. What is left out of this calculation, it seems to me, is the business of caring—caring deeply and passionately, really caring—which is a capacity or an emotion that has almost gone out of our lives. And so it seems possible that we have come to a time when it no longer matters so much what the caring is about, how frail or foolish is the object of that concern, as long as the feeling itself can be saved. Naïveté—the infantile and ignoble joy that sends a grown man or woman to dancing and shouting with joy in the middle of the night over the haphazardous flight of a distant ball—seems a small price to pay for such a gift.”
— Roger Angell, from “Agincourt and After” (1975)

My mother once told me that trauma is like Lord of the Rings. You go through this crazy, life-altering thing that almost kills you (like say having to drop the one ring into Mount Doom), and that thing by definition cannot possibly be understood by someone who hasn’t gone through it. They can sympathize sure, but they’ll never really know, and more than likely they’ll expect you to move on from the thing fairly quickly. And they can’t be blamed, people are just like that, but that’s not how it works.

Some lucky people are like Sam. They can go straight home, get married, have a whole bunch of curly headed Hobbit babies and pick up their gardening right where they left off, content to forget the whole thing and live out their days in peace. Lots of people however, are like Frodo, and they don’t come home the same person they were when they left, and everything is more horrible and more hard then it ever was before. The old wounds sting and the ghost of the weight of the one ring still weighs heavy on their minds, and they don’t fit in at home anymore, so they get on boats go sailing away to the Undying West to look for the sort of peace that can only come from within. Frodos can’t cope, and most of us are Frodos when we start out.

But if we move past the urge to hide or lash out, my mother always told me, we can become Pippin and Merry. They never ignored what had happened to them, but they were malleable and receptive to change. They became civic leaders and great storytellers; they we able to turn all that fear and anger and grief into narratives that others could delight in and learn from, and they used the skills they had learned in battle to protect their homeland. They were fortified by what had happened to them, they wore it like armor and used it to their advantage.

It is our trauma that turns us into guardians, my mother told me, it is suffering that strengthens our skin and softens our hearts, and if we learn to live with the ghosts of what had been done to us, we just may be able to save others from the same fate.

S.T.Gibson  (via modernhepburn)

First time I’ve ever heard the advice, “be more like Pippin.”

(via padnick)

(via geatland)

alffiesta:

I saw this film many years ago, and I remember it changed me.  How? I’m unable to tell.  But something wasn’t quite the same after the fact. For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.  That’s how you know when art is good.  When it clings to your brain cells and gets tucked away underneath the menial daily bullshit.  Then one day, years later and unprovoked, it comes to the forefront of your thought and sticks around for a couple weeks.
If you haven’t seen Y Tu Mama Tambien, do yourself a favor and watch it.  Then re-watch it.On the surface, it’s a simple, beautiful, highly sexual, and sad character-driven story, but with strong undercurrents of death and politics and sociology. The heavier themes aren’t subtle and they don’t need to be.  Cutting out the diegetic sound to replace it with the narrator’s voice, it’s an almost slap-in-the-face to the audience by director Cuaron, reminding us to wake up and see what’s in front of our faces.
For instance, in one scene, we’re enjoying the threesome’s drunken banter over dinner when suddenly we take a journey through the kitchen in the back, watching three generations of a working-class Mexican family labor over the lavished seaside feast the travelers are about to enjoy.
I think the chord that struck with me the most in this film was the idea of duality, in all aspects of life.  How nothing is ever what it appears to be. The above scene is a good example.  But then we have our main characters. Luisa, a sexy and mature older woman who is carefree and spontaneous on the surface, is also suppressing a dark, inner battle.  The boys, in typical teenage macho fashion, boast about their sexual conquests with women, but are hiding a sort of homoeroticism that’s hinted at from the beginning of the film. And then there’s the sheer beauty of the natural Mexican landscape: the unpaved desert roads they drive on, the tucked away beaches, the small village where a fisherman and his family making a decent living off the pristine ocean. This is in stark contrast to the other side of Mexico: the crowded, dirty city where a pedestrian is killed on a construction site, the lavished Mexican wedding filled with guests only there for political connections, and the narrator’s news that the fisherman and his family will be driven out by tourists flocking to the new oceanfront resort built on his land.
When I got to the end of the film, it blew me away.  Mainly how one summer can change the rest of everyone’s lives involved, and how that ever-present duality, that hidden truth we all carry with us, never really goes away.
This film will forever be in my top five.

I love this film. I wish a still of the scene of the boys swimming in the pool with the leaves and petals above was included. alffiesta:

I saw this film many years ago, and I remember it changed me.  How? I’m unable to tell.  But something wasn’t quite the same after the fact. For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.  That’s how you know when art is good.  When it clings to your brain cells and gets tucked away underneath the menial daily bullshit.  Then one day, years later and unprovoked, it comes to the forefront of your thought and sticks around for a couple weeks.
If you haven’t seen Y Tu Mama Tambien, do yourself a favor and watch it.  Then re-watch it.On the surface, it’s a simple, beautiful, highly sexual, and sad character-driven story, but with strong undercurrents of death and politics and sociology. The heavier themes aren’t subtle and they don’t need to be.  Cutting out the diegetic sound to replace it with the narrator’s voice, it’s an almost slap-in-the-face to the audience by director Cuaron, reminding us to wake up and see what’s in front of our faces.
For instance, in one scene, we’re enjoying the threesome’s drunken banter over dinner when suddenly we take a journey through the kitchen in the back, watching three generations of a working-class Mexican family labor over the lavished seaside feast the travelers are about to enjoy.
I think the chord that struck with me the most in this film was the idea of duality, in all aspects of life.  How nothing is ever what it appears to be. The above scene is a good example.  But then we have our main characters. Luisa, a sexy and mature older woman who is carefree and spontaneous on the surface, is also suppressing a dark, inner battle.  The boys, in typical teenage macho fashion, boast about their sexual conquests with women, but are hiding a sort of homoeroticism that’s hinted at from the beginning of the film. And then there’s the sheer beauty of the natural Mexican landscape: the unpaved desert roads they drive on, the tucked away beaches, the small village where a fisherman and his family making a decent living off the pristine ocean. This is in stark contrast to the other side of Mexico: the crowded, dirty city where a pedestrian is killed on a construction site, the lavished Mexican wedding filled with guests only there for political connections, and the narrator’s news that the fisherman and his family will be driven out by tourists flocking to the new oceanfront resort built on his land.
When I got to the end of the film, it blew me away.  Mainly how one summer can change the rest of everyone’s lives involved, and how that ever-present duality, that hidden truth we all carry with us, never really goes away.
This film will forever be in my top five.

I love this film. I wish a still of the scene of the boys swimming in the pool with the leaves and petals above was included. alffiesta:

I saw this film many years ago, and I remember it changed me.  How? I’m unable to tell.  But something wasn’t quite the same after the fact. For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.  That’s how you know when art is good.  When it clings to your brain cells and gets tucked away underneath the menial daily bullshit.  Then one day, years later and unprovoked, it comes to the forefront of your thought and sticks around for a couple weeks.
If you haven’t seen Y Tu Mama Tambien, do yourself a favor and watch it.  Then re-watch it.On the surface, it’s a simple, beautiful, highly sexual, and sad character-driven story, but with strong undercurrents of death and politics and sociology. The heavier themes aren’t subtle and they don’t need to be.  Cutting out the diegetic sound to replace it with the narrator’s voice, it’s an almost slap-in-the-face to the audience by director Cuaron, reminding us to wake up and see what’s in front of our faces.
For instance, in one scene, we’re enjoying the threesome’s drunken banter over dinner when suddenly we take a journey through the kitchen in the back, watching three generations of a working-class Mexican family labor over the lavished seaside feast the travelers are about to enjoy.
I think the chord that struck with me the most in this film was the idea of duality, in all aspects of life.  How nothing is ever what it appears to be. The above scene is a good example.  But then we have our main characters. Luisa, a sexy and mature older woman who is carefree and spontaneous on the surface, is also suppressing a dark, inner battle.  The boys, in typical teenage macho fashion, boast about their sexual conquests with women, but are hiding a sort of homoeroticism that’s hinted at from the beginning of the film. And then there’s the sheer beauty of the natural Mexican landscape: the unpaved desert roads they drive on, the tucked away beaches, the small village where a fisherman and his family making a decent living off the pristine ocean. This is in stark contrast to the other side of Mexico: the crowded, dirty city where a pedestrian is killed on a construction site, the lavished Mexican wedding filled with guests only there for political connections, and the narrator’s news that the fisherman and his family will be driven out by tourists flocking to the new oceanfront resort built on his land.
When I got to the end of the film, it blew me away.  Mainly how one summer can change the rest of everyone’s lives involved, and how that ever-present duality, that hidden truth we all carry with us, never really goes away.
This film will forever be in my top five.

I love this film. I wish a still of the scene of the boys swimming in the pool with the leaves and petals above was included.

alffiesta:

I saw this film many years ago, and I remember it changed me.  How? I’m unable to tell.  But something wasn’t quite the same after the fact.

For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.  That’s how you know when art is good.  When it clings to your brain cells and gets tucked away underneath the menial daily bullshit.  Then one day, years later and unprovoked, it comes to the forefront of your thought and sticks around for a couple weeks.

If you haven’t seen Y Tu Mama Tambien, do yourself a favor and watch it.  Then re-watch it.

On the surface, it’s a simple, beautiful, highly sexual, and sad character-driven story, but with strong undercurrents of death and politics and sociology. The heavier themes aren’t subtle and they don’t need to be.  Cutting out the diegetic sound to replace it with the narrator’s voice, it’s an almost slap-in-the-face to the audience by director Cuaron, reminding us to wake up and see what’s in front of our faces.

For instance, in one scene, we’re enjoying the threesome’s drunken banter over dinner when suddenly we take a journey through the kitchen in the back, watching three generations of a working-class Mexican family labor over the lavished seaside feast the travelers are about to enjoy.

I think the chord that struck with me the most in this film was the idea of duality, in all aspects of life.  How nothing is ever what it appears to be. The above scene is a good example.  

But then we have our main characters. Luisa, a sexy and mature older woman who is carefree and spontaneous on the surface, is also suppressing a dark, inner battle.  The boys, in typical teenage macho fashion, boast about their sexual conquests with women, but are hiding a sort of homoeroticism that’s hinted at from the beginning of the film.

And then there’s the sheer beauty of the natural Mexican landscape: the unpaved desert roads they drive on, the tucked away beaches, the small village where a fisherman and his family making a decent living off the pristine ocean.

This is in stark contrast to the other side of Mexico: the crowded, dirty city where a pedestrian is killed on a construction site, the lavished Mexican wedding filled with guests only there for political connections, and the narrator’s news that the fisherman and his family will be driven out by tourists flocking to the new oceanfront resort built on his land.

When I got to the end of the film, it blew me away.  Mainly how one summer can change the rest of everyone’s lives involved, and how that ever-present duality, that hidden truth we all carry with us, never really goes away.

This film will forever be in my top five.

I love this film. I wish a still of the scene of the boys swimming in the pool with the leaves and petals above was included.

(via the-sea-and-the-axe)

archiemcphee:

Japanese photographer Yume Cyan shots awesome long exposure nighttime photographs of fireflies in a forested area near Nagoya City, Japan. 

"By keeping the camera’s shutter open at a low aperture Cyan captures every bioluminescent flash of each insect resulting in dotted light trails that criss-cross the frame."

The results are nothing short of magical. 
Head over to Colossal to view more of Yume Cyan’s enchanted forest photos. archiemcphee:

Japanese photographer Yume Cyan shots awesome long exposure nighttime photographs of fireflies in a forested area near Nagoya City, Japan. 

"By keeping the camera’s shutter open at a low aperture Cyan captures every bioluminescent flash of each insect resulting in dotted light trails that criss-cross the frame."

The results are nothing short of magical. 
Head over to Colossal to view more of Yume Cyan’s enchanted forest photos. archiemcphee:

Japanese photographer Yume Cyan shots awesome long exposure nighttime photographs of fireflies in a forested area near Nagoya City, Japan. 

"By keeping the camera’s shutter open at a low aperture Cyan captures every bioluminescent flash of each insect resulting in dotted light trails that criss-cross the frame."

The results are nothing short of magical. 
Head over to Colossal to view more of Yume Cyan’s enchanted forest photos.

archiemcphee:

Japanese photographer Yume Cyan shots awesome long exposure nighttime photographs of fireflies in a forested area near Nagoya City, Japan. 

"By keeping the camera’s shutter open at a low aperture Cyan captures every bioluminescent flash of each insect resulting in dotted light trails that criss-cross the frame."

The results are nothing short of magical. 

Head over to Colossal to view more of Yume Cyan’s enchanted forest photos.

aaronburch:

bobschofield:

alexithymiadaily:

The Inevitable June

We had a good June.

Did y’all have a good June? Did you pick up Bob’s The Inevitable June? Did you, did you?
aaronburch:

bobschofield:

alexithymiadaily:

The Inevitable June

We had a good June.

Did y’all have a good June? Did you pick up Bob’s The Inevitable June? Did you, did you?

aaronburch:

bobschofield:

alexithymiadaily:

The Inevitable June

We had a good June.

Did y’all have a good June? Did you pick up Bob’s The Inevitable June? Did you, did you?

“You didn’t see me I was falling apart
I was a white girl in a crowd of white girls in a park
You didn’t see me I was falling apart
I was a television version of a person with a broken heart”
— The National, “Pink Rabbits” 
“But when a man is hurt,
he makes himself an expert.
Then he stands there with a glass in his hand
staring into nothing
as if he were forming an opinion.”

Tony Hoagland

"When Dean Young Talks About Wine"