Going to Sunny – um more like stormy SoFla
I’m headed down to South Florida next weekend, and frankly, I can’t wait. It would be nice to have beautiful bright sunny weather to look forward to after a non-summer here in the Seattle area, but thunderstorms are just as good. We don’t get really good thunderstorms west of the mountains very often. I miss those storms tha lasted for days with a deluge coming down, the sky lighting up with arcs of lightning and booms of thunder. If TS Hanna makes landfall, it will probably be while we’re there. It won’t be the first major storm I’ve been through. My first was Hurricane Andrew, then Hurricane Irene. The last one I flew into while I was trying to plan for our wedding. I ended hiring the photographer and DJ at the only place that was actually open! Boy did I end up regretting that. I honestly can’t remember the name of the storm just now. The only thing (aside from having to settle for wedding services) I regretted was that there were so many closures, we couldn’t get the food we wanted.
Honestly, I wouldn’t care what we got to do just as long as I got to see my niece and nephews and the rest of the fam.
Disney’s Beauty and the Beast
I pretty much drove my mother insane with the number of times I watched this movie as a kid. I loved Belle. She was the first (for me, I didn’t count Snow White back then) brunette “princess” who also loved to read. It’s no secret how much I love to read. I spent whole days not changing out of my nightgown or PJs because I was too busy reading. I yearned to learn braille so that I could read while I slept. I realized later that once you’re asleep, it is impossible to concentrate on external stimuli. Anyway, I fell in love with the library at the castle. It was so massive! The shelves that soared up several stories, the ladders and spiral staircases to reach the tops… I decided then and there I wanted something like that some day. I have no idea how I would fill such a library.
I adored the ballroom sequence. I loved her dress, even though it was yellow, and the computer graphics made that ballroom feel so real. This scene spoke to my romantic side. I love to dance and still dream of being swept away in the arms of my husband wearing a smashing tux in some remote castle’s ballroom. Go ahead and laugh, I am a romantic.
I memorized all the songs, went to see the IMAX show, wanted desperately to see the Broadway show, hated Gaston, suffered for her crackpot father, and watched with tension the final fight on the rooftops of the castle between Gaston and The Beast. Was anyone else disappointed when the Prince was revealed? Such a huge schnoz!
I loved how the animators used the stained glass art in to tell the prologue and epilogue of the story. It was quite beautiful.
More comfort movies
Director: Rob Reiner
One of my favorite fake fairy tales, the film stars Cary Elwes and Robin Wright Penn. This movie launched a long crush on Mr. Elwes that remains unabated to this day. A hilarious cast, the movie is fantastical, dramatic, comedic, and epic. Years later I read the book the film is based on. The book and the movie make great companions, the book only expanding upon the hilarity of the film. The movie is infinitely quotable, from the famous, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” to “There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in the world. It would be a pity to damage yours.”
Priestess (continued)
Here is the rest of what I was working on yesterday. I find writing things by long hand and then typing it out is almost a mini re-write. I cut out a whole section that wasn’t working once I started in on the flashback. Anyway, without further ado:
Alina put aside the wet cloth she had been using to clean Alera’s face. It was too warm since it appeared Alera was in the throes of fever. It was best to wait for the Healer before trying any further field medicine. Alera had never before performed such a powerful blessing. Alina was unsure how to treat her condition. She settled for kneeling by her bedside holding Alera’s hand.
Alera’s lacquered fingernails were remarkably immaculate. She had not bothered with hand-to-hand combat, although Alina had seen her training and knew her to be formidable. She knew there was only one choice if they were to escape with their lives, the Lady’s Blessing. Only those consecrated with the White Lily brand were safe from its effects.
Priestess (WIP)
My husband supplied the working title for the high priestess story I posted earlier, Priestess. I don’t know where the story is going, so I don’t know if the title will change. However, I have a working ending for it and some idea of a story arch. Yesterday, while stuck in traffic on our way back from Leavenworth, WA, I composed the next bit in this story. So here’s a portion of what I wrote on that trip somewhat altered as I typed it up.
Owen and Orneil silently approached the inn at near the village green. The village was still too close to the Sacred City, but Owen knew they could not continue with the High Priestess in such condition. They quickly roused the Innkeeper. Master Lukas was a devout man and no fool. He recognized the insignia on their uniforms. He showed them quickly to the suite of rooms he had added recently for traveling nobility. There were three rooms, a main room with a sitting area and a large bed, and two smaller rooms with cots for the servants. Having satisfied himself that the rooms would be adequate, Owen left Orneil to guard the rear entrance to inn.
“As soon as you hear my call, go find the Healer. The Lady’s Maiden will not be far behind,” with that Owen turned quickly to disappear into the darkness.
“Captain!” he said in a low breathless voice, “the innkeeper has prepared a room. He will be discreet,” he added quickly.
Alina nodded once and said, “Good, let us make haste. We have precious little time as it is. Have you arranged for the Healer?”
“Orneil knows to seek her as soon as he hears the signal,” Owen responded.
Alina took Alera from Orinda who had carried her while they waited for Owen, cradling the unconscious priestess in her arms. They set out quickly and soundlessly through the gaming trail. They had travelled through the forest, avoiding the main road. Pursuit would be likely, but Alina prayed that the southern road would be forgotten. No one would believe that the High Priestess would travel into the Lady’s Tears.
They arrived at the inn after what felt like an interminable period of time. Orneil had already gone for the Healer by the time they reached the back entrance. Owen showed them the way up the servants’ stairs to the large suite. Jacques and Orinda went in first, quickly scanning the room. When they signaled the all clear, Alina carried Alera in through the narrow door and placed her gently on the large bed. Master Lukas and his two daughters had aired out the room and provided fresh linens in the short space of time it took Owen to bring their party here.
Alina kneeled by the bed clutching Alera’s pale hand between her own sun-darkened and calloused hands, worry creasing her brow.
More vivid dreams
I am enjoying having all these dreams come to me especially when I can actually remember them. The other night I had another dream that brings to mind another story idea or perhaps plot point for an existing work. It could work for either Shawna Bell or the High Priestess one I posted about previously. Anyway, it was a much more personal dream featuring yours truly and husband along with either my family or our friends on a road trip of some kind. At some point I become very ill with a terrible fever that lasts three days. Throughout the fever, I can remember my husband at my side perhaps alternating briefly with one of the other passengers. I don’t think it was my family after all. If I’d been traveling with my mom, she would be the one by my side with my husband standing nearby feeling helpless. Anyway, I remember when the fever finally breaks, that every time I came to he would be there to take care of me. This prompted the idea to include as part of the memoirs a time when Shawna becomes very ill and Mrs. Bell has to attend to her. However, now that I think about the High Priestess story, it could be a very touching back story between High Priestess Alera and Captain Alina or the scene after they escape from the approaching soldiers. They would have to escape, how else would the story progress? Anyway, which would you vote for:
Shawna Bell and Mrs. Bell
Alera and Alina back story
Alera and Alina post escape
If anyone out there reads any of this tripe, leave your vote in the comments. I figure for the 3 people who will at some point read this post, why bother finding an actual poll? I appreciate any feedback in any case.
I might use it for both stories, who knows. Oh and any title ideas for the priestess story would be helpful. I hate calling it that right now, but nothing else seems to come to mind.
What is real: Dark City (Director’s Cut)
Imagine for a moment “that some malignant demon, is at once exceedingly potent and deceitful, has employed all his artifice to deceive” (Descartes). What, then, is real? Reality cannot be only what is perceived through the senses because the demon controls these perceptions. Descartes posed this question in his Meditation of First Philosophy to arrive at Truth. He posited that to arrive at Truth one must first disavow all that one has believed and arrive at the Truth only through that which cannot be doubted. In Dark City created and directed by Alex Proyas the inhabitants of the Dark City cannot know Truth and Reality because their very memories of reality is in question.
Alex Proyas delves into our understanding of reality and what it is to be human through the character of John Murdoch. Murdoch awakens in a tub having lost all memory. He is confronted with the knowledge that he may have just murdered a prostitute when he discovers the dead body of a woman on his floor. Throughout the film we are confronted with inconsistencies. Initially, due to his disorientation, Murdoch knocks over a fishbowl. He quickly rescues the goldfish by placing it in the tub, but the audience is to believe as well as Murdoch that he is actually a vicious killer. As Bumstead asks when noticing the goldfish in the bathtub, “What kind of killer takes the time to save a goldfish?” (Proyas). The film begs the questions, are more than our memories? Will a man continue to kill once given the memories of a killer?
There are several inconsistencies presented in the film such as a killer rescuing a goldfish which hint at something larger occurring around the characters. When Bumstead first meets Emma Murdoch, John Murdoch’s wife, Bumstead asks how long she had been married. After answering that she had been married for seven years, he points out to her that she fidgets with her ring like someone who was not accustomed to wearing one. She appears flustered by the observation stating quickly that she never takes it off. This scene brings to mind another question. Does love transcend our memories and our personalities? If one can doubt love, is the emotion real? Reality in the Dark City is very much what the aliens deem fit to perpetuate their experiments.
Murdoch soon discovers and yet is continually surprised to discover that reality is malleable. He roams the city only to see all its inhabitants stop at precisely midnight every “night.” No one seems to notice this as a few minutes later everyone awakens, some with a new life, and continue about their business. During this time, Murdoch witnesses whole buildings disappear and be replaced with another building. A man is carried by strange looking men in black trenchcoats to sit at a barber’s chair. The audience witnesses a blue collar couple in a ratty apartment transformed into a high class couple in a sumptious dining room. Murdoch himself seems to possess this power to conform reality by will alone, what the aliens call tuning. He manages to create a door where one did not exist before in order to escape Bumstead. He causes the wooden planks of the billboard platform to collapse under the feet of the alien men chasing him.
If reality is malleable, then can it be absolute? How can the inhabitants of the Dark City ever know what is real? If anyone stopped to consider the inconsistencies around them, could they continue their lives without soon questioning everything? When confronted, Bumstead cannot remember the last time he did anything during the day. A prized possession’s origins are only vague impressions that it was a gift from a recently deceased mother. He cannot remember the day she gave him the accordion. When anyone is asked how to get to Shell Beach no one can remember exactly how to get there. The clerk who greets Murdoch giving him the first clue as to his identity, is replaced by a black man the next time the audience sees him. Later, Murdoch runs into him running a newsstand. Would anyone notice that the man who sold them their paper for the past twenty years was now a different man?
To discover the human soul, the root of human individuality, the aliens play with the memories of the humans they have abducted over several decades. The City is an amalgam of different eras harvested from the memories of the human test subjects. In their own way, they are performing the ultimate Cartesian test. To discover truth, one must remove all else that would cloud one’s understanding of it. At the film’s conclusion Proyas points out that the aliens, being incapable of understanding individuality, fail to realize that not even humans know where the soul resides. Murdoch tells Mr. Hand near the end of the film that the aliens sought the human soul, the human mind pointing to his forehead, in the wrong place. Perhaps what makes us unique as species resides in our brains, but most certainly not in our memories. Our memories have been shown time and again to be fallable, our senses untrustworthy, and our reasoning suspect. We are an amalgam of different parts, our conscious minds only make up a small part of who and what we are.
I don’t even know what that is…
or the the search for Borders.
I went down to Oregon this weekend with my girlfriend for some back to school shopping for her oldest. Unlike last year, we had directions and an idea of where we were headed. We skipped downtown Portland altogether and went down to Clackamas Mall. We pretty much finished our shopping there, which was a disappointment and a relief. It was a disappointment because I was hoping to stop at a few bookstores in the downtown area, and a relief because my feet were killing me. Knowing that the chances of running into a Borders was slim from the highway, I decided to ask a store clerk were the nearest one was. See, Breaking Dawn came out on Saturday, and I very much needed to pick up a copy. I wanted to go to Borders because I am a member of their Borders Rewards program, which meant I would 40% off instead of the 30% discount I found at B&N. Well, the first clerk was no help, but at least she was polite.
The next clerk, a young woman perhaps in her late teens, met my question with a blank stare and a belligerent, “I don’t even know what that is.”
I will pause there to let you reflect upon that, all those living in the Continental United States. I have traveled from South Florida all the way to Washington taking a less direct route than most who take I-10 straight across into California and I-5 all the way north. We decided to go through the national parks like Yellowstone and Grand Tetons with a stop in New Mexico. If we stopped in your town, chances are we stopped in your Borders. Therefore, I know most people have a Borders near their closest mall.
Having said that, I was flabbergasted. That one sentence left me speechless. My friend was much quicker on the uptake and elaborated, “um, Borders Books?” A light seemed to go on however briefly, and she pointed us to (again belligerently) the B&N that was in the mall.
It doesn’t end there, though. We stopped at a Target once we crossed the Washington/Oregon border, and again I asked where the nearest Borders was. This time, the cashier said “I don’t know what that is, but I’m new to the area.”
Two people?! I live in Washington where there is a higher than average rate of people with Bachelor’s degrees, so perhaps I expect too much. I’m not sure. I just find it very strange considering I met my husband at a Borders and every significant relationship my husband’s had before me began somehow at a Borders. This store has had an impact on our lives. Is anyone else surprised at this or am I overreacting here?
and don’t get even me started on the Starbucks barista who didn’t know what a phone book was… I’m thinking generational gap here to be the culprit but still
Dreams and story ideas
I was having a very intense and wonderful dream this morning. It feels like the beginning of a great story or the beginning of a rip-off from another story I read in the past. I cannot be sure. I know that while I dreamed, I was possessed with the conviction that I had indeed read what I was seeing before. When I awoke, however, the only element that I know is from a dream is the betrayal of a female authority figure (in my dream, I could not be sure if she was a queen or a high priestess). That’s straight out of Kushiel’s Chosen.
Anyway, this is the raw version of what I remembered from my dream (ok maybe not “raw.” I feel a story here):
A cheering crowd sits on benches surrounding an arena. Beyond the arena floor, opposite the crowd sits a woman, her expression serene. A face whose beauty hides the steel in her black-eyed gaze. Her raven hair is swept up into a severe knot while silk, miniature cherry blossoms spill around her head to soften her face, feathering around her alabaster brow. Her iridescent pink gown is covered by matching stole flowing to her knees. Two men stand at either side, gilded iron face plates giving nothing of their expressions away. In the ceremonial body armor, they appeared quite fierce but in fact quite vulnerable. The soft gold metal would give easily under a direct attack. Behind her stood her honor guards, in flexible armor best suited for closed in combat.
High Priestess Alera fanned her self idly her mind on other matters as the match played out below her. Something kept bothering her. She knew there was more to these rumors. She just could not pinpoint the issue entirely. A slow murmur traveled through the crowd as a skirmish broke out near the gates. Her honor guard stepped forward to surround her, blocking her view of the crowd. She sighed as she stood and followed them behind the Lily Box to the security passage hidden in the recess. Alera picked up the sense of urgency from her guards as she realized that the skirmish had broken out into the arena and amongst the soka players.
“We must make haste, Your Grace,” her Captain murmured close to her ear.
“Yes, of Course, Alina,” Alera whispered in returned.
