Monday, September 8, 2008

/Love until your hands bleed/?

Tonight I played "Clue" with Andrew and Hilary. They are enchanting, both separately and in combination. On the sidelines, we let our ears take in Billie Holiday, and our lips champagne. The champagne's presence on the dimly lit hallway table was somewhat of a mystery to me...not, after all, being my beverage of choice ever since a horrendous experience in my latter teen years. Regardless of what it was we were celebrating (the official advent of a fresh season? monday? hil's bangin dance audition? moving on?), my stomach was a kind recipient tonight. I was both startled and thankful, because all disastrous experiences aside, it is a completely delicious beverage.

The looping journey back apartment-wards through stillened streets was a frosty one to my skin, but a relieving one on my heart. There is a lightness I acquire through pulling icy air into my lungs, and transforming it into an energetic heat (if significant only to myself).
Speaking of heat that is hot, I curled down to take in this film the other day:



(Bernardo Bertolucci's "The Dreamers")
...........

(synopsis courtesy of my worshipped Wikipedia:)
"A young American exchange student, Matthew (Michael Pitt), has come to Paris in order to study French. Though he has lived there for several months, and will stay in Paris for a year, he has made no friends. As a huge fan of film, he spends most of his time in the Cinémathèque Française. Eventually he forms a rapid friendship with a Frenchwoman, Isabelle (Eva Green), and her brother, Théo (Louis Garrel). Isabelle and Theo are twins, and were originally conjoined at her right and his left shoulder, respectively. Throughout the film, scars on their shoulders can be seen. All three have an avid love for movies, especially "the classics". As their friendship grows, Matthew learns of the extreme intimacy shared by the siblings (what one reviewer described as "incestuous in all but the most technical sense"[4]) and gets pulled into their world. Over time he falls in love with them, and the three seclude themselves from the world, falling further and further from the reality of the 1968 student rebellions. An abrupt ending to this relationship comes when that world is shattered and they are compelled to face the reality of 1968 France."

It is beautifully sexy as hell, but also fringed with a subtle slash glaring sensitivity.
I liked.
Parts made me gape, others coaxed a curvateous smile, and then there were those moments that were just plain loco insano.
Either way, it is worth a few hours of your time.
(If nothing more than to salivate over Parisian living.)

This one is also an object of my current affection:


(Woody Allen's latest, "Vicky Cristina Barcelona")
I am amped on its unconventional attitude towards love and all things at all remotely related.
Refreshing and interesting....not to metion Penelope Cruz is nailing the heroin-chic trainwreck babe look with a passion.

Sleep is dragging me into itself.
Regrets, this array of words is apologetic-worthy.
Enough of my ramblin for one late nuit, that is for sure.
Time for the hot hottest bath, and layers of blankets strewn upon my bed.
Soothing/relaxation/rejuvination/out,
RBudyk.

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