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sewing update and Gladiator
Oct. 11th, 2004 09:05 amBoth sleeves are done. The bodice lining is partially assembled. The underskirt is partially assembled.
After work, I've set aside 5 - 7 hours of sewing to finish those things.
Watched Gladiator last night, which doesn't work nearly as well on the small screen, but still made me cry. I remember going to see it exceptionally vividly. It was in the basement second-run theater under the Virgin Megastore (where movies go to die) and I had been putting it off for ages. I went alone, and I remember I walked from work to the theater. None of these things are terribly unusual except I remember very clearly that Something Really Significant was going on in my life at the time, and it was one of those big cathartic movie experiences for me, even the walk there at dusk.
The thing is, I have absolutely no idea what it was. Which of course speaks to the wonderful fact that drama is never so bad as we think it is, but it's rare I can't put something together like that, and as such, it's a little maddening for me.
Sometime later, I remember discussing the film with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stevefava and he talked about how the film was designed to make both women and men cry -- the women, about the family stuff and the men in the bit where Maximus scrapes the SPQR off his arm. I don't remember exactly what he said, but I remember him explaining it to me in the context of this is a guy thing women wouldn't necessarily understand.
But I remember that I understood it before he had explained it, and that he later leant me Gates of Fire, and while we don't really communicate even peripheraly (but hi todcicuto) now (for no other reason than life is a busy busy place, and we're both the sorts who make sure it's always that way), it's a very strange, specific point of demarcation in my life, because it was a moment where I was two very distinctly different people and the subjects of our friendship gave that a narrative transition and flow that made it make sense, at least for me, in hindsight (and quite frankly, I don't think it makes sense to anyone else, beyond the idea that one day, I got fed up with the shit I'd allowed to exist in my life and decided to nearly banish even reasonable things in my life, if I could not deal with them reasonably).
Grace is often something other than quiet.
After work, I've set aside 5 - 7 hours of sewing to finish those things.
Watched Gladiator last night, which doesn't work nearly as well on the small screen, but still made me cry. I remember going to see it exceptionally vividly. It was in the basement second-run theater under the Virgin Megastore (where movies go to die) and I had been putting it off for ages. I went alone, and I remember I walked from work to the theater. None of these things are terribly unusual except I remember very clearly that Something Really Significant was going on in my life at the time, and it was one of those big cathartic movie experiences for me, even the walk there at dusk.
The thing is, I have absolutely no idea what it was. Which of course speaks to the wonderful fact that drama is never so bad as we think it is, but it's rare I can't put something together like that, and as such, it's a little maddening for me.
Sometime later, I remember discussing the film with
stevefava and he talked about how the film was designed to make both women and men cry -- the women, about the family stuff and the men in the bit where Maximus scrapes the SPQR off his arm. I don't remember exactly what he said, but I remember him explaining it to me in the context of this is a guy thing women wouldn't necessarily understand.But I remember that I understood it before he had explained it, and that he later leant me Gates of Fire, and while we don't really communicate even peripheraly (but hi to
dcicuto) now (for no other reason than life is a busy busy place, and we're both the sorts who make sure it's always that way), it's a very strange, specific point of demarcation in my life, because it was a moment where I was two very distinctly different people and the subjects of our friendship gave that a narrative transition and flow that made it make sense, at least for me, in hindsight (and quite frankly, I don't think it makes sense to anyone else, beyond the idea that one day, I got fed up with the shit I'd allowed to exist in my life and decided to nearly banish even reasonable things in my life, if I could not deal with them reasonably).Grace is often something other than quiet.
