A day in the life

Take an average month and imagine each Saturday's to-do list. About half the time my agenda runs a responsible, mundane cycle of groceries, laundry, and scrubbing the bathtub. The other half is packed full of volunteering, community festivals, farmer's markets, travel (business and pleasure), and the like. Yesterday resides amongst the more colorful half.

I started my day as I've started nearly every other Saturday for the past three and a half years, volunteering at Ten Thousand Villages. A national network of non-profit retails stores, Villages was started by the Mennonites in 1946 as an alternative to our country's shameful trade practices. Each store has a few paid managers and is then staffed entirely by volunteers. With incredibly low-overhead and 501(c)(3) status, the mission of Villages is to provide a fair and living wage to artisans in developing countries.

There are 100+ artisan co-ops in 30+ countries who have long-term relationships with Villages. Selling their goods in North America provides income they would not otherwise earn and therefore provides a life for their family, children, and village that they would not otherwise be able to provide. Many of the co-ops are comprised of disabled persons, or women involved in micro-credit businesses, or tribes who scarcely have economic mobility without these fair trade relationships.

The energy inside the store is tangible and radiates with light. Partly this is because the people who "work" there are actively giving their time to a cause we passionately believe in. It is also a result of the karma Villages is putting into the larger, global system. If we have to live in a capitalist society, we might as well find more ethical modes of operation. As evidence of this karma, I saw something yesterday that, in various forms, I see often at the store.

A woman came in with a receipt from early-June. For the past three months she has been waiting for her purchase to clear her bank account. When it never did, she came in to tell the store that the charge didn't go through and she would like to pay now. I strongly believe that positive action for the common good put into the system will equal positive results for the common good produced by the system. I love spending time at Villages and seeing this energy in motion.

It's not every day I'm finger printed and asked to leave permanent record of such on the merchant copy of a receipt, but then it's not every day I make a purchase at Salt Lake's largest sex boutique. This week I'm traveling to a wedding in Washington, DC. After the rehearsal dinner the girls are gathering for a champagne-flooded lingerie shower. We have specific instructions to bring "one thing naughty and one thing nice." One thing naughty left no choice but to visit Dr. John's.

One thing nice left no choice but to visit a boring department store and purchase, uneventfully and without criminal-style ink pads, a sweetly off-white linen camisole/crops sleep set.

One might feel that being the only person shopping in a sex boutique the moment it opens on a Saturday morning would be uncomfortable. I would argue that fighting hoards of housewives and salivating Christmas shoppers (I said Christmas shoppers) at an arts and crafts megastore is by far the more uncomfortable environment. It's the 8th of September and already Halloween gear is a thing of the past. I did manage to get in and out quickly with my intended items in tow: a black bag and black tissue paper for the naughty shower gift and a white bag and white tissue paper for the nice shower gift.

I also made the obligatory run to the grocery store. Even though I only have a matter of days until I'm out of town, the sad bachelor-esque vision of my ranch dressing, three eggs, and half a wrinkled cucumber begged me to pay even a small bit of attention to my pathetic fridge. I love traveling, but it takes its toll. On my way home I made the traditional weekend stop at Luna for my quart of mango Italian ice. Luna is the locally-owned gem that was forced to relocate in the wake of the Sugarhouse redevelopment disaster. They relocated to the ever-increasingly hip 9th & 9th neighborhood. 9th & 9th is a great example of an intentionally designed/developed urban character district, with walkable streets, mixed-use buildings, an art house theatre (Sundance hot spot) complete with indy film rentals, local businesses, single-lane traffic, trees and art doting every inch of open space, perfect.

I topped off the day with a movie at the $1 theatre in my neighborhood. I saw "Waitress" and even though Jeremy Sisto plays a total dirt bag, I fell in love with him all over again. His black eyes were a lovely end to my random day.

First Friday Films | Take One

First Friday Films | Take One
Subtitles & Split-screens

In August I indulged an a-typical lull in my schedule with a veritable film fest. I work in higher-ed and while the rest of the world was vacationing just prior to the new academic year, I was squinting at subtitles and split screens in the cool A/C of my living room.

L'Avventura
Director: Michelangelo Antonioni

When this Italian film premiered at Cannes in 1960, the audience absolutely hated it. They heckled the screen, walked out, you'd have thought it was stand-up at the Apollo. After the screening, a number of critics banded together and published a letter in the festival bulletin endorsing the film. Although it was entertaining to read the back story of L'Avventura's premiere, it seems fairly typical. Critics tend to praise what the public hates and vice versa. I have to side with the critics on this one. I thought the film was well-paced, lush, and gorgeous (and not just because Monica Vitti is ridiculously beautiful).

The word "avventura" appears only once in the screenplay and in spoken Italian it can either mean "adventure" or "fling." The basic plot follows a cadre of bourgeois 20-30 somethings drifting aimlessly (think Fitzgerald's Paris 40 years earlier) until a girl from their boating party suddenly goes missing. The boyfriend of the missing girl soon makes advances on the missing girlfriend's best friend, who eventually responds in kind.

Antonioni, in a statement at Cannes, said that we are all "burdened with a heavy baggage of emotional traits which cannot exactly be called old and outmoded, but rather unsuited and inadequate. They condition us without offering us any help, they create problems without suggesting any possible solutions." He doesn't justify, rationalize, or psychoanalyze the boyfriend's actions, or the best friend's reactions, for that matter (though the Cannes audience clearly did). In his opinion, it is what it is. (What is the Italian equivalent of c'est la vie?). His point is that the social mores that would either endorse or condemn the "avventura" are irrelevant.

Antonioni continued, "Every day, every emotional encounter gives rise to a new avventura. For even though we know that the ancient codes of morality are decrepit and no longer tenable, we persist [...] afraid of the moral unknown. Starting out from this point of fear and frustration, [we] can only end in a stalemate." Which is exactly how the film ends. At first it doesn't feel like a satisfying ending. It's one of those endings where you stare at the blank screen thinking, "What?! Seriously?" But when you understand that it's not intended to satifsy, and that it actually intends to alienate you, you realize how genius the film is.

Time Out
Director: Laurent Cantent

Throughout the entire film I thought of both Sloan Wilson's "Man in a Grey Flannel Suit" and John Updike's "Rabbit, Run." The common theme being the plight of bored suburban men. Culturally we are conditioned to focus more attention on the kept housewife popping Prozac and crawling out of her skin. Rarely do we consider, or allow, how difficult and tedious marriage, kids, and a 9-5 can be for men.

This is a French film, begging the assumption that the marriage malaise is trans-cultural. The man in this film goes so far as to construct an elaborate but fake career, travel itineraries, investment deals, an entire second life outside his marriage and kids. The crescendo of the film is when his wife, children, and friends intersect with his patchwork of lies.

It was a very slow-moving and quiet film, and yet it was creepy enough to hold my attention. I kept waiting for the grand climax when the story would unravel in a burst of fireworks and drama; but it's not a slap-you-across-the-face American film and so it remained esoterically French through and through. I liked it and thought it served as interesting social commentary, but I wouldn't watch it a second time.

Conversations with Other Women
Director: Hans Canosa
Writer: Gabrielle Zevin

This film debuted at Telluride in 2005 and proceeded to travel the international festival circuit, making its first theatrical debut in France in June of last year. It can now be found at a Redbox near you.

Aaron Eckhart (yum) and Helena Bonham Carter (perfection) play "man" and "woman," respectively. It seems at first a simple tale of a wedding hook-up via a bride's maid's one-night stand with the bride's brother. Only it's not that simple (it never is) and as the story unravels, the movie throws serious punches and surprises. As soon as it ended, even before the credits rolled, I went right back to the opening menu and started it a second time. I loved it even more than the first go-round.

I mention the writer and the director because both are insanely brilliant and are names-to-know. The script is fresh and honest and witty and sexy. It's one of those scripts where you blush half way through the film and think, "I don't know the writer, do I? How does he know that about me? Was that out loud?" Brilliant. Canosa and Zevin worked in perfect tandem to create this work of art. I don't throw that term around lightly because it's become so irrelevant, but this film is truly Art.

The entire film is hand-held and still cams. The entire film is split screen the entire time. Brilliant. Their thematic concept was that every love story has two sides (at least) and so one side of the screen is the woman's perspective and one side is the man's perspective. For instance, when the man is leaning in to flirt with the woman at the bar, his perspective is of a lock of her hair curling and falling over her ear, and that's what you see on one side of the screen. Her perspective is the top of the bar and her fingernails as she looks down while he whispers to her, and that's what you see on the other side of the screen. All the while the conversation is rolling and there are long continuous shots. Brilliant. The continuous shots are no "Russian Ark" or anything of that magnitude, but it is truly incredible film making. Can you imagine the editing?! That's what kept going through my mind.

The sex scene. Ohmigosh. Can we talk about the sex scene? How fascinating to watch a sex scene in split screen from two completely different perspectives and then revel in the poignancy of the moments when both sides of the screen show the exact same image. It rarely happened, but that's what makes it even more beautiful. It was a sweet moment when Helena bounces quickly into Aaron's frame and kisses him, but is quickly back in her own screen. You have to see it to understand. Drop what you're doing and get to a Redbox as quickly as you can. Like now.

Sancharram (The Journey)
Written, Directed, and Produced: Ligy J. Pullappally

I love Indian flims. From eccentric Bollywood to Deepa Metha's profound masterpieces, Indian films always manage to enchant me. The tag line for this film whispers: "In a land steeped in tradition...a secret love." Turns out the secret is lesbian love between teenage school friends Kiran and Delilah.

I watched the previews (a great way to discover other independent films, btw) and soon realized I'd stumbled into a "Wolfe" film. Surprise. Wolfe, I learned, is a movie studio that caters exclusively to gay/lesbian themes. I suppose, if you think about it, it's fair to say that nearly every commercial Hollywood studio caters to heterosexual themes.

"Sancharram" falls perfectly in line with the iconic elements of Indian drama: colorful, sensual, lyrical, spiritual, haunting. The small, highly traditional village where Kiran and Deliliah live would never welcome their relationship and Delilah is already promised to a man her parent's arranged for her. The film aches and drips with all the passion of thwarted love, add to that the passion of thwarted teenage love. Yet you soon forget that these girls are 15ish and age is wholly unimportant. It's a mature story, a captivating story, and a very strong feminist piece. The underlying theme of empowerment and living authentically leaves you feeling hopeful and happy. Magical.

Once
Director: John Carney

See it. See it. Then see it again. If the fantastic music isn't enough for you (a side project of Glen Hansard, Irish band The Frames, with Marketa Irglova) or if for some reason you don't enjoy tender, funny, honest, bittersweet love stories, then I have two final words for you. Glen. Hansard. Enough said.

Our morning in Pleasant Grove

Boasting the most generic landscapes imaginable, the suburban wasteland known as Utah County is nothing but fast food, big box, and monstrous McMansions. Each square mile contains its own shrine to the Holy Trinity of Suburbia: a Vietnamese nail studio, a tanning salon, and a Jamba Juice (or other similar made-to-order fruit smoothie establishment). With a Walmart on every corner and an SUV in every driveway, Thomas Wolfe is right, I can never go home again.

Nonetheless, I'm in Orem visiting my parents and enjoying a Monday off work (thank you, union organizers). This morning my sister-in-law and I stumbled into a town called Pleasant Grove. While I assume the actual boundaries and residential neighborhoods of this city sprawl out endlessly, it was the historic downtown district that surprised and delighted me.

I have been through this downtown many times over the years; but it was one of those magical moments when you see something very familiar for the first time.

It is charming. It is quirky. It is nostalgia with sugar on top. I would have loved to see it in the glory days; the family drug store next to the theatre on Main Street, across from the barber shop and city park, everything nestled in bricks and gaslights. In the time spent capturing these photographs, we never saw another living soul.

Flowers feed the soul

eve was framed

even eve
the only soul in all of time
to never have to wait for love
must have leaned some sleepless nights
alone against the garden wall
and wailed
cold, stupefied, and wild
and wished to trade in all of eden
to have but been a child

in fact, i gather that is why she leapt
and fell from grace
that she might have a story of herself
to tell in some other place

("History" Jennifer Michael Hecht)