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Yesterday felt much under the weather. I did hope the morning walk in sunlight would energize me. Instead, not so much.
In the afternoon we watched Slipstream, written and directed by Anthony Hopkins. It is both about time and movie making. I suspect if i knew more about movie making i would have gotten more out of it. As it was, i was well entertained although extremely disoriented. My continued grasping at the possibility of a plot went from feeling challenged to feeling like a game.
http://www.filmmakermagazine.com/issues/fall2007/slipstream.php
I did make little creeping motions toward my goals, so Yay. I'm moving on to finding a gift via Etsy instead of making it myself and i digitally edited my New Year's image and had it printed up. (Now just to address, write notes, and send them.)
--==∞==--
Inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amaebi's post about fashion, introducing me to the book Alison Lurie's The Language of Clothes, a reflection of my own:
I'm thankful for how my mother indoctrinated me into the language of clothes. She had good taste and an eye for quality, as well as conscious sermonizing on the thrift of quality in classic styles.
The problem is that clothing *is* a language. I've never quite made that sentence, but i've been well aware it's a communication form, and i often feel inarticulate in the language. I'm not sure what i want to say, and I have a hard time finding authentic statements. Practical and comfortable are values in my choices, that seem somewhat at odds with my authentic expression. To wear the classic styles of WASPY New England that my mother was introduced to in her high school years in Newport as a Navy brat seems to stake a claim of class and privilege that is not right.
I'm really quite lucky to be working with the jeans-and-software-give-away-t-shirt crowd. My schizophrenic wandering between styles that scream "unique and creative" and "sweater set and slacks" don't seem to matter. Job hunting, though: oh, the horror of finding clothes.
In the afternoon we watched Slipstream, written and directed by Anthony Hopkins. It is both about time and movie making. I suspect if i knew more about movie making i would have gotten more out of it. As it was, i was well entertained although extremely disoriented. My continued grasping at the possibility of a plot went from feeling challenged to feeling like a game.
http://www.filmmakermagazine.com/issues/fall2007/slipstream.php
I did make little creeping motions toward my goals, so Yay. I'm moving on to finding a gift via Etsy instead of making it myself and i digitally edited my New Year's image and had it printed up. (Now just to address, write notes, and send them.)
--==∞==--
Inspired by
amaebi's post about fashion, introducing me to the book Alison Lurie's The Language of Clothes, a reflection of my own:I'm thankful for how my mother indoctrinated me into the language of clothes. She had good taste and an eye for quality, as well as conscious sermonizing on the thrift of quality in classic styles.
The problem is that clothing *is* a language. I've never quite made that sentence, but i've been well aware it's a communication form, and i often feel inarticulate in the language. I'm not sure what i want to say, and I have a hard time finding authentic statements. Practical and comfortable are values in my choices, that seem somewhat at odds with my authentic expression. To wear the classic styles of WASPY New England that my mother was introduced to in her high school years in Newport as a Navy brat seems to stake a claim of class and privilege that is not right.
I'm really quite lucky to be working with the jeans-and-software-give-away-t-shirt crowd. My schizophrenic wandering between styles that scream "unique and creative" and "sweater set and slacks" don't seem to matter. Job hunting, though: oh, the horror of finding clothes.
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