A Whiter Shade of Pale

Something I have been thinking about for a long time.  Time to change the colour of our day.  As much as I really like the white text on dark grey background and the whole mysterious red header – most suitable for a red head!  it is time to bring some font contrast to A Room of Heroine.

So after I have yet another squizz at the WordPress themes on offer, these – interestingly enough, black and red – martial arts shoes are going to take me out into the sunshine down the hill.

Who knows what brighter, yet mysterious layout awaits the eye?

 

c.  A Room of Heroine 2012.

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When European Cinema Doesn’t Shine

I love going to the pictures. 

The only time I haven’t enjoyed the cinematic experience is the time a few years ago I convinced a couple of friends to see this Italian family draaaaaama where the characters did nothing but bitch, and fuck, and argue for the film’s duration. 

It was exhausting to listen to, exhausting to watch, and no amount of cute Italian hand gestures could make up for the fact that this film was exhausting to listen to and exhausting to watch.

For the first time in my personal cinema-going history, there was no choc top from heaven that could have stopped me from walking out.  And I never walk out of a film.  So I sat there, and hoped my friends wouldn’t say anything awful to me afterward.  Of course, when we walked out into the sunshine of Oxford St, I apologised for inviting them to see it.  This is something which I would never dream of doing.  Other people whinge and whine about films, but I love going to the pictures.

As for building the drama, the story up on screen couldn’t flatline any further in terms of dramatic dynamics.  In fact, if it had flatlined, I would not have noticed it.  It was a constant parade of four seasons in one emotional day.  And so much anger (the characters’, not mine).

One of the things screenwriter Billy Marshall Stoneking has to say about drama (and he has plenty to say) is that drama has to build and go somewhere.  It has to do something. I hope he doesn’t mind my quoting his writing on Dramatic Grammar:

A story’s power is proportional to its effectiveness in building and releasing energy in ways that are fresh, unexpected and thoroughly credible

When a story stops building energy, or is unable to effectively release it, the energy dissipates, which is another way of saying the story becomes undramatic.

You can join Billy on his hunt for truly dramatic storytelling at http://www.wheresthedrama.com.

Highly recommended if I do speak from experience.

Should I tell you the name of this film that altered my perception of cinema-going for all eternity?  No.  I have forgotten the name, and to be honest, I feel a bit mean slagging off the work of other artists.

But it was a growing experience.  I did learn something of storytelling value that afternoon.  It was naive of me to expect that a European film might, by sheer virtue of its being a European film, automatically provide a glowing cinematic experience.   It doesn’t mean diddly squat.

That’s the same as assuming that Australian films are broadly quirky, undramatic, or filled with horror.

Anyway, enjoy your choc tops, possums.

 

c. A Room of Heroine 2011.

Nuts aloo

Nuts aloo.

Sunshine and All that Stuff

Sunshine and All that Stuff.

Sunshine and All that Stuff

Sunshine and all that stuff.

You know, I think I am going to make this a category all of its special own.

Currently I am sitting in my cold bedroom, instead of the warm, sun-filled lounge room.  And eating cold rolled oats and linseeds.

Argh, it’s been a little chilly in Sydney of late.  Of late what?  Library books.  Oh don’t get me started, I’ll go nuts-a-loo writing all sorts of stream-of-consciousness and metaphor-raising floosziebiloolio stuff.  And making up words.

This is the sunshine blog.

This morning I stood in front of my kitchen window, like Rapunzel at her garret – er, tower bedroom, waiting for that slack-arsed prince to stop fucking his horse and rescue her.  What is it with princes on horseback?  Can’t they walk?  Geez.  Poor bloody horses.  A lardy-arsed prince AND a suit of armour, not to mention saddle and a belly full of primeval mediaeval oats.

Back to sunshine.  So, standing in front of my window, thinking about a telephone call I had to make about an opportunity that I believe is there, and slightly psyching myself up, and embracing the sun, curiously enough, at the base of my belly.  Exactly where a girl needs it when she wants to achieve something professionally.

A good blast of sun right in the base chakra, but around the front, because who the hell would turn their back on all that beautiful sunshine?

I’m going to deliberately finish – in the middle – by saying that the only reason Rapunzel knew her prince was coming is because she was facing OUT the window, sunshine of my miiiiind (some sixties pop song in my head I think, and if not, must be the seventies, must look up all sunshine songs).

Tricked you.  I didn’t finish in the middle.  See what happens when one edits oneself before the outpouring of minor creativity has concluded its merry swish through ones mind, behind the beads, the eyes, the Rapunzellian eyes of the soul?

So I was grateful for that sunshine.  And thanked the Sun.  And my ancestors.  And I felt good, and mission simplified, the right message coming through to me, as to WHY I should share in that opportunity.  Then I thought about lots of other stuff which was highly distracting, irrelevant, and slightly negative but constructively negative.  Then I got back into the sunshine state of mind.  No, not Queensland.  It’s not always about Queensland you know.

But you know, I already knew last night – or the wee whoooours of this morning – what my method for tackling the opportunity mission would be, et-sunny=-cetera.

I love the sun.  And right now, I am going to finish my rolled oats, and get ready for work.  Between the train and I is about three quarters of a kilometre of sunshine.  I shall embrace it through my sleeves, my stockings, my sunshiny spirit.

Love and Blessings (Sunny Blessings) to you, Sunshine, dear Sunshine.xxx

 

c. A Room of Heroine 2011.