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Sunday, February 27, 2011

Art is a Love Supreme

Sequins just suit some people. Like living legends. Like Diana Ross.

I recently went to see Diana Ross in concert with my mother. Mr. Ross was decked out in sequins and beading. I had never liked sequins. But when she stepped out, they made perfect sense. What else would befit a woman such as her? A glowing living legend.

Photo by Harry Wad
Nobel Concert | 2008
She started with "Where Did Our Love Go?" sounding just like she did nearly 50 years ago. Just like the records we’ve all heard on the radio so many times over the course of our lives. By the third song, I felt overwhelmed. And for the rest of the show I just wanted to weep. At the sheer magnitude of the impression this woman has made on so many lives. At feeling something I didn't know I would feel. A woman who doesn’t know me and doesn’t know anyone in the audience. Who's not acquainted with the people shouting out "I love you, Diana" as if she's been a lifelong friend. Ms. Ross has her own story. 50 years ago she wanted to sing. And now her story touches others around the world. Through space and time. Her music lives. Her spirit continues to reach.


Sequins are impressionistic. They need to be seen from a distance under bright light. Some people are splendor in the light.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

First Post: Awards Voting Season & Movied Out

Just rediscovered this blog yesterday. Opened it 5 years ago and posted once about an arduous (first) cattl.. *casting* call adventure, then forgot all about it.

Self-talking isn't really my thing; self-talking into ether even less. But I'm going to give it a go. With my preference being for ideas, topics.

So, first post: The Grueling Film Awards Voting Season:  A Sort of "About Me"

I am a filmivore. And it's voting season. So, I'm rushing to go watch some final nominated films right now to be able to cast my Spirit Awards votes before the deadline. [Independent filmmakers, how can you not champion independent film?]

Independent Spirit Awards
After a tally last week, in the last 13 months I've watched about 290! films, all new to me. Things previously watched weren't included in the tally, but I don't usually actively rewatch films by and large. Excluding *The Devil Wears Prada*, which I feel compelled to watch every time it comes on TV. (I think I relate too closely to the Andy character.) And the first 4 Chapters of *Inglorious Basterds*.

I love film, but I treat it a bit like poetry: impressionistic. Films are experiential: what general reaction do they incite in you? That is my memento, my takeaway: the general overall impression. A (hopefully sweet) memory that you don't need to *relive* to relive.