Les Mis(s)?

I am so torn whether to see Les Miserables on the big screen. I know, I know, I should go see it...I have never read the book and I have never seen the musical. Can you believe it? It's been showing pretty much non stop for 25 years and I've managed to never go. It's just that it's so depressing! Relentlessly depressing! And the film looks so over the top and although I'm interested...or rather, curious to hear all the actors' singing voices, I just can't seem to get excited about it. I have a few more weeks to think about it since it doesn't open in the UK until middle of January.

I'm sure Hugh Jackman will be great...if I can keep Wolverine as Tommy Tune out of my head. I wonder...well, hoping that Russell Crowe sounds much better than Pierce Brosnan in that awful Mamma Mia! I heard that Anne Hathaway singing I Dreamed a Dream is worth the price of admission. I also heard she said her performance was just Meh. Something about how she is not as talented as Cate Blanchett and Kate Winslet...and she has to work so much harder at it. Ugh...I'm going to end up going, aren't I? I'm hoping they've made that annoying Amanda Seyfried really dirty and smelly looking like all the others I've seen in the trailer. It would be ridiculous if her blond hair is all yellow and shiny and sparkly, right? It's the Revolution for goodness sake. Great, after the Hobbit...this will take up another three hours of my life...it better be worth it.

P.S. Speaking of Kate Winslet, what is up with her new husband Ned Rocknroll? (The third times a charm?) I'm predicting he's a keeper because he seems okay riding the coattails of his billionaire uncle...and now his future is totally set with his super talented and beautiful and successful wife. If he cheats on her, I will be forever gobsmacked.

Manic Monday!

It was an insane day at work! Getting hit from all sides - operations issues to help resolve, technical hurdles, compliance! Too much! My sabbatical seems ages ago...how can I get it back?

That's it! From now on and into the new year, I resolve to leave the office by 6:30pm, to never look at work emails after 7pm and never check in on weekends! Can I do it??

Loopy for J-G-L

Saw Looper last week and it was pretty good - it was very violent as expected. I mean, you know what you're gonna get with Bruce Willis, right? But my current fav is Joe Gordon-Levitt (although I didn't particularly like the nose that they gave him to look like Bruce; it gave me frightening visions of Nicole Kidman in The Hours...horrid). 

When did he get so cool and actually hold his own as an action guy? (He was the best part of Inception after all) I know he's kinda nerdy and slight but he's really cute (dimples) and smart (Columbia) and plays guitar and has that fantastic music/film/arts production company (HitRECord) and stays fairly independent with his film choices and works a lot with Sundance...I could go on.

Oh sigh....

Survived Sandy

Today is Thanksgiving and I'm giving thanks for surviving Hurricane Sandy aka Superstorm aka Storm of the Century aka The End of the World. I landed in Philadelphia two days before the storm and my friends told me that we needed to have a big weekend since it was our last one on Earth. Well, we did have a great dinner and the following day, we had a fabulous brunch. Our last meal! It was already pouring...then I was stuck at my hotel for two days which I suppose was way better than having to drive to the office. I was even productive while having the news on all day. I was going a bit stir crazy being indoors for so long...but I'm thankful it wasn't worse. The hotel gave me extra water, a baby flashlight as small as a pen and a glow stick that you crack in case of an emergency. Fantastic! The loud winds created so many strange, frightening sounds all around the hotel that kept me awake most of the time. So I'm thankful for the CSI and Criminal Minds marathons on tv. I can always rely on my old friends.

Beasts, Bill and the Stones

Excellent film festival in London this year. It was my first one after all these years living here. I was spoiled when I lived in Toronto and went to TIFF every year. It was so accessible with so many tickets available at reasonable prices and I used to just rock up to the gala openings across the street from my apartment building and see pretty much every Hollywood A-lister.

The London Film Festival seemed to me a lot less promoted; at least I rarely saw any advertising or announcements or news on the telly until after the events occurred and celebs went home from the red carpet. Of course there's so much going on in this town at the same time...

Anyway, this year I received a big BFI brochure in the post on the day before tickets were available to priority members. So I went online and became a member of the British Film Institute and the next morning, I was able to get access and buy tickets to the screenings! I scoured the brochure the night before and knew which films to go after...too bad the Closing Gala, Great Expectations and a small film, Seven Psychopaths by the same guy who did In Bruges were already sold out! In less than half an hour! I chose a few films primarily because they looked the most interesting or they had good directors or they had good actors who may be showing up for the screening...and I was able to get tickets to some brilliant films and see some iconic individuals.

Here's a rundown:

Beasts of the Southern Wild is the first feature by American director Benh Zeitlin. It's a film with a bunch of non-actors that had received raves at both Sundance and Cannes. Well, the hype was right...in my opinion, it was brilliant! Beautifully shot, the superb, natural acting and the story narrated by the young girl kept me interested and made me care about the characters. Extremely engaging, gritty, very real, I loved all of the close ups of the crawfish, the pigs, the melting glaciers and especially the little girl. She's the most brilliant of all!

Next up was a new British feature called Broken with another unknown young actress. This film was also good and relentless with its 'in your face' dysfunctional and tragic families. The young female lead was extremely good and had some touching moments with her young beau as well as her father played by Tim Roth. He and Cillian Murphy, two of my favourite actors were excellent. It was a shame that they weren't at the screening.

The first tickets I was able to get were for Hyde Park on Hudson. I thought how fun it would be to see Bill Murray show up at the premiere and he did! And he was hilarious! The film was good too and I'm glad I saw it as it's a film that I wouldn't typically see in the cinema. Bill was great as FDR and Laura Linney was excellent as his distant cousin/lover....she's always good though and always chooses the most interesting roles. Samuel West was great as the young King George. I laughed out loud in certain areas; the script was quite funny.

And finally, the ultimate climax of the Festival for me was the premiere of Crossfire Hurricane, the new documentary of the Rolling Stones to celebrate their 50th anniversary. That's right, 50 years of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll! And they live to tell about it. The film is very honest and open and hilarious in many parts and so much fun to see. But the best part was seeing and almost touching Mick, Keith, Charlie, Ronnie and Bill as they walked by me along the aisle to get to the stage and introduce their film. It was fantastic and an absolutely unforgettable experience!

Four Minutes or more of lost time

After an extremely hectic, relentless few weeks of work, both here and abroad, I returned home on a chilly, dark and damp London morning. The Olympic summer is truly over. No more joyous spirit and glorious sunshine and happy people. Everyone is back to black and grumpy. 

We pulled up to Victoria station and I finally got a decent signal so I started to check my emails and Facebook and messages. Oh, I have a voicemail. Voicemail? And it's four minutes long...well, 3 minutes 59 seconds to be exact. Strange, it's from a friend with whom I just had dinner the other night. The message was garbled and hardly audible but I was able to make out some conversation. He wasn't speaking to me or leaving a message. He was speaking with another friend and some of it was about me! What are they saying? Oh, I wish I had better hearing! I'm thinking I need to get this to a CSI lab stat so they can split and assess all the voices and remove the background noise like the traffic, the car...yep I used to be a huge CSI fan, Vegas mostly.

Oh dear, the evening slowly comes back to me. I check my phone and look at recent history. Missed call at 12:14am. Must've been the voicemail. But I didn't receive my voicemails until I reached London. Uh oh, I called him at 12:19 that was 8 seconds long. I received a text at 12:20. I cannot repeat what it said! I made another call but aborted at 12:20. Why did I call again at 12:21 for one minute? What did I say? I called again and aborted at 12:34??!!

Oh boy, incoming call at 12:38 and it lasted six whole minutes. Hmmm....try to remember...try to remember...try to remember! What little I do remember is not very flattering...I may have been blubbering...and I certainly cannot remember six minutes of conversation! Ayyyyy!

Dinner was so much fun, lots of laughs and great wine and great food. We hadn't seen each other in many years but it was like it was just yesterday. Constant conversation, lots of teasing and some debate...it did get heated at some point in the evening...something about men and women and what's attractive and reverse discrimination and I believe I called him a sexist. And he agreed with me, then accused me of participating in a gender war...like I said it was heated about a topic we both were obviously passionate about. I suppose there was some sexual tension but I thought it was just hilarious! My other friend would then throw a zinger into the conversation whenever things died down and we went at it again. She said it was fun and I remember she even sided with him on one occasion which incensed me even more!

Alright, another text at the same time 12:38! How is that possible if we were on the phone talking? That text was more direct with specific instructions for rendezvous. Hey, aren't we friends? Don't worry, no Harry met Sally references. It's more like Friends with Benefits. Didn't even see that film...

Then I passed out. I know I did. Because I woke up at 2am fully dressed on top of all the covers in my hotel room. Excellent. I remember that much. That's good I guess...

Note to self:
Pink champagne and red wine are a reasonable combination when taken with a very nice meal of multiple lovely courses, but do not add lethal cucumber mint martinis concocted by an enterprising bartender called Elvis who wants to add his inventions onto the bar menu. Damn they were really good.



Dark Night Rises

Great evening with great friends in the City, of London, not to be confused with the city of Westminster, you know, Central London, which used to be the suburbs. The City, where I rarely go, is full of lads, investment bankers. I'm too old for it. Or tired of it. But tonight it was great. I walked by runners who were part of a City race after work. Then after dinner, I walked by professionals by day who morphed into revellers by night. I took a cab home because that's what I do. I can't be bothered with the tube or a bus even though it's not so late. Thanks to my Hailo (best app in the world), I was in a taxi within minutes and rode towards the west, passed the halls of justice and the amazing new Blackfriars station still donning its Olympic signage. We drove by the river on the Embankment - it's an absolutely lovely evening with the OXO tower across the water and the purple glow of the London Eye. Oh, the Buddha Bar has closed but Somerset House was hopping with London Fashion Week in full swing. Took the turn around Parliament and passed the Tate Gallery being renovated. What a beautiful night with a clear, midnight blue sky. It never seems very dark here with all the lights of the city on all the time. Pretty bridges. Chelsea. Albert. Almost home. I remembered what a horrible day it was at work today. But it didn't matter anymore. At lunch I saw Michael Caine buying a sandwich. So funny because I just saw the latest Batman film last weekend. Only in London. What a lovely night it turned out to be.

Parisian 101

On a rare spontaneous moment, we decide to spend a day in Paris. We take the 7.00am Eurostar from St Pancras to the Gare du Nord. Arriving at 10.30am, we are in great need of coffee and take a taxi straight to Cafe Marly. What better view than the Louvre Pyramid and the Tuileries? Once we have refueled, we stroll along the Seine and take in the whole city. Such a beautiful city. We head for Avenue Montaigne and some serious shopping.

We walk into an iconic hotel and admire the decor, wander towards the interior courtyard to scope the restaurant crowd and menu....a bit stuffy and intimidating so we walk back towards the more posh & trendy terrace restaurant. A lovely hostess takes us from the hotel lobby to the terrace and hands us over to her colleague. 

Me: Deux personnes, s'il vous plait.
Hostess: Avez-vous une reservation?
Me: Non.
Hostess: D'accord (and motions for us to follow her).

We are seated at a cute table for two under the beautiful red awnings. It's quite sunny and warm and there is mist occasionally showering the hedges and the air around us for soothing comfort. We order amazing pink champagne and nice salads which fill us up for an afternoon of more shopping.

About 10 minutes later, many people arrive...a gorgeous couple, a beautiful family of 3, a large group of fashionistas, and an individual man sits in the corner table eating, drinking and smoking like it was going out of style. Is he a designer whom I should know?

All the tables fill up except one behind us. A young couple walk up and the woman, dressed in a baby blue playsuit, smiles but says nothing to the hostess. Her boyfriend or husband, dressed in shorts and a golf shirt, stands behind her for support. 

Hostess: Would you like a table for two?
Baby blue playsuit: (nods) Yes.
Hostess: Do you have a room in the hotel?
Baby blue playsuit: (shakes her head) No. 
Hostess: Oh, I am so sorry...but we only have guests from the hotel. 

The young couple turn around quickly and walk off the terrace in shame, denied a lovely lunch in the glorious sunshine beneath the red awnings. More mist is sprayed on us and we drink our pink champagne, quietly smiling, basking in our small but meaningful achievement...life is good.

aka Curiosity

The Curiosity rover landed on Mars on 6 August 2012, the same day that I started back at work. That's the extent of our similarities. After two full weeks, I can honestly say that I don't have as much energy as Curiosity and unfortunately, I don't have a laser to zap rocks - or in my case, desks, laptops, printers or people. I can move faster than it does as it covers only the length of a football field a day. Of course it's much more productive during that time. I also wish I had a ChemCam, so much better than Instagram I bet. Oh, I guess we have one other thing in common - we have a mission that expires in exactly two years. But our next steps after that may be vastly different. Let's follow Curiosity's mission together....shall we?

Olympic blues

Oh how I miss the Olympics and wish we could score tickets to the sold out Paralympics which start next week. At least we will have more sports to watch on telly with driven, determined athletes. The only thing we have now are extremely unattractive Louis Vuitton ads with Michael Phelps. Sorry but there is nothing about him that screams LV. I heard that they may strip him of his medals since the ads came out on the first day outside of the ban, which means he had them taken during the ban of non-Olympics advertising. Well, I doubt they'll take his medals away - he's such the golden boy in the eyes of many. Though I will say that LV should be fined or Marc Jacobs should be slapped silly for even thinking of doing those ads - they're absolutely hideous and a deterrent to fashionistas the world over. Disgrace.

Rubbish blogger

Yes that's me. I'm so busy I haven't had time to blog. I'm rubbish unlike the cool creative chick who came up with the brilliant Feminist Ryan Gosling memes. 

Back at the Ranch (but not back in the grind)

Can the Olympics get any more exciting?!! I've been so busy with very little time to write on this blog...so many thrilling events to see live or on telly or on the live app on my iPhone! I was so addicted to swimming that I watched every event as soon as I woke up and the full replays again every night on my iPad! (Thanks BBC!) What an incredible first week which made it even harder to return to work today after 7 months off and one helluva week of sports and culture under my belt. I promise I will post a series on the Olympics soon. In the meantime, here's a play by play of my first day back at the office: Forced myself to get up after only 4 hours of sleep. Emailed new boss that I would be in about 8:30/8:45 and will he be around to meet. Emailed my team members reminding them that I am back today. At about 8, thought I should've prepared my handbag and shoes last night and not this morning when I was still half asleep (making extra sure I had brought the correct right shoe to match the left one). Had to stop for a raisin danish to go and a double macchiato...yes it's a double kind of day. Just missed three buses going my way - why do all the buses always come at the same time?! Caught a bus six minutes later and it was the slowest bus evahhh. With diversions for the Olympics, it was slower even though there wasn't much traffic in the streets (no ogling the lovely shops on Sloane Street as we diverted towards Belgravia to Hyde Park Corner)....so I finally reached my destination. Oh how I missed my walk to the office... going through Burlington Arcade and seeing if any new shops opened and smile by the glorious macaroons in the Ladurée window. Turned by the Ralph Lauren store and noticed an incredible pair of platform sandals! Really? Ralph has a cool pair of shoes? Huh...oh, the jewellers were preparing their window displays...yes, diamonds are indeed our best friends. Wow, LV has the Kusama collection in their windows. Looks like the Tate Modern but with creepy Yayoi mannequins that look exactly like her! Made a mental note to go there during lunch sometime this week. I finally walked into the office a few minutes past 9 to the smiling ladies at reception who showed me to my new desk. Laptop and phone already set up which was awesome. Many greeted me a nice welcome back. Some just looked up and shrugged. One sales guy was so surprised that I came back, he was speechless and he's never speechless. A couple just grunted so it seems most things and most people don't change. I managed to take the next hour to clean and disinfect my desk, laptop, keyboard, phone, screen and mouse. I walked around to see other teams. I introduced myself to some new people. Some new people introduced themselves to me. Some people came over from other floors to my desk to say hello. I met the new young woman sitting across from me...hmmmm she's American too but oh dear, this may get tricky. I will be nice as it's my first day back. I heard she hums and on Fridays the humming becomes whistling (??!!). My new boss was not in but he emailed me saying he had set up lunch for us tomorrow to discuss my responsibilities and areas of focus. My old boss arrived and came by to see if I would be free for lunch which of course I was...the executive head of our group came in with loads of boxes. I think he only comes in to open his mail. He walked by me three times before I called out his name and he realised I was in. Hugs and kisses and a little chatting about how my former clients love us so much now (did he mean because I had left the relationship or is it due to the tennis finals tickets they were handed?). After a great Thai lunch and talk about my old boss' potential move to California and the hot new Mexican place in London, I did a bit of housekeeping like called my property manager, the art adviser that I plan to continue working with on some cool projects and my financial adviser who had emailed me about an important company transaction. Oh by the way, I cleaned up my inbox and deleted over 3500 emails and only kept about one month's worth of emails. So if anyone emailed me even after all my notices (whose email didn't get automatically routed to proper people that I assigned certain email addresses), then they won't ever hear from me. I did manage to set up a couple of coffee talks this week and got the latest materials and presentations to get caught up on our newest services. Of course I was pulled aside to listen to some complaining...there's always the complainers and they won't ever change. They never leave or do anything about it either; they just complain. Part of my role as you know is 'therapist', always have been, always will be I suppose. One of my oldest colleagues (he's not old but he's the person I've worked with the longest in London) asked if I would have a welcome back drink downstairs. And who am I to say no to a pint on a Monday? So we went down about half 5 and watched some cycling from the Velodrome while he had 3 Magners to my single nice and cold Kronenberg. The pub landlord was happy to see me. It's good to be back. 

MDNA & LMFAO

Madonna in Hyde Park last Tuesday night: Started with lots of hooded monks chanting and incense burning into the humid and damp air (it did rain but at least it wasn't biblical!). It was a well organised, choreographed show (as expected with Madonna) but presented outdoors with imperfect acoustics. Still, her Madgesty looked good and I love her new hairstyle. She's still got it. She sang a few great hits but played that guitar much too often. There were cheerleaders and marching bands and tightrope walkers like at the Superbowl. But I have to say that the best part was seeing Rocco Ritchie with his blue jersey and orange beats, dancing like a natural centre stage with his mom. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I really enjoyed LMFAO opening the show! So fun! (Strange, I never get writer's block when talking about concerts, theatre, art shows or films. I really should've been a critic. When did I pass up that fork in the road?)

Writer's block (again)

Trying very hard to get motivated to write an essay for an art business course. It's been over 25 years since I've had to write and submit an academic paper for a mark or grade, let alone a certificate. I am channeling all the art gods to inspire me.

Degas

It's the birthday of Edgar Degas who was born in 1834. Although he was known as quite a cruel and difficult man, I so admire his work, especially the ballet dancers and the women in their bath. Most impressive are his pastels. He was an amazing draftsman, never forgetting the basis of all art, drawing.

The Kiss

Today also marks the 150th birthday of Gustav Klimt, a magnificent and unique artist and leader of the Secession movement (also called Art Nouveau) in Vienna. He's so popular that Google placed a doodle for him today in homage. His paintings are some of the most recognisable in the world, especially The Kiss (1907-8). His father was a gold engraver and he used gold leaf in most of his works. What I find most fascinating is that he painted his female models and sitters in the nude first, then covered the paintings with elaborate designs and patterns using the gold leaf. Such an intense and passionate process but worth the amazing results. If I could ever have my portrait done by any artist living or dead, I would choose to give the commission to Gustav Klimt.

Happy Bastille Day!

On the occasion that today is Bastille Day, I want to take the opportunity to rave about all things French. I suppose I consider myself a bit of a Francophile although I've forgotten most of the French I learned in school. I fell in love with the language in grade 7 and wanted to enter the Sorbonne so badly. I continued to take French in high school and at university for several semesters. I even considered changing my major when my French professor approached me and suggested Linguistics. Well, my life and career would definitely have taken a very different path! I know that the French people, especially Parisians, aren't liked by everyone - I think they get a bad rap. But I come from Philadelphia so a bad rap comes with the territory and just makes you stronger, more defiant and tenacious, and to believe in yourself regardless what other people think. So why do I like the French? + Many of history's greatest artists including Ingres, Delacroix, Courbet, Manet, Degas...the list goes on + Marcel Duchamp! + You can't beat the extraordinary history of the French republic + Versailles and the Louvre used to be the royal residences of Marie-Antoinette (the "Austrian woman"); no wonder they wanted her head + There are few things more pleasant than walking through the Jardin des Tuileries + Everything has to do with style, art or food + The natural beauty of the countryside and well-kept urban architecture + The incredible cuisine, truly the art of French cooking + Joel Robuchon and many, many great chefs too many to name + The French don't actually drink that much, I mean they don't binge; they drink wine with meals as you should + Champagne! + Provence! + The French Open + Coco Chanel, her life story and legacy and influence to today + Street fashion in Paris is more chic than in any other city + Colette, one of the best shops ever + Hermès, of course + A compliment from a French person usually carries more weight than those of others + French women may look you up and down and up again without a smile; this is meant to be a compliment as they like what you're wearing and are memorising how you've put your outfit together + Many of the best films ever including Amelie, Au Revoir les Enfants, Leon (The Professional), Queen Margot, Delicatessen and more + Such beautiful wine regions and the fact that each region can only produce wine from certain grape varieties. Love the tradition and the discipline; it's about the quality and not just the commerciality + Lots of lavender, poppies and sunflowers everywhere + And yes, when you're in France, you do feel and share a certain joie de vivre. Vive la France!

These are a Few of My Favourite Things...

Small Museums & Art Galleries

(certainly not an exhaustive list nor in any specific order)

Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice, Italy. Photography: Rose-Coloured-Glasses.

• Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice, Italy
• The Frick Collection, New York City, USA
• The Wallace Collection, London, UK
• Moderna Museet, Stockholm, Sweden
• Kröller-Müller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands
• Musée de l'Orangerie, Paris, France
• Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston, USA
• Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington DC, USA
• Galleria dell'Accademia, Florence, Italy
• Delphi Museum, Delphi, Greece
• Galleria Borghese, Rome, Italy

And the spectacular Barnes Collection if it had stayed within its original charter in its original home in Merion, Pennsylvania just outside of Philadelphia, USA. 

Moderna Museet, Stockholm, Sweden. Photography: Rose-Coloured-Glasses.

In Search of Lady Chatterley's Lover

I'm sure you expected me to blog about my lifelong search for Mr. Darcy, but I've given up on that daydream. In my many years here, I've come across various barons, counts and lords of the manor (you can actually buy a title these days like you can buy a vanity plate for your car) and no one comes close to Colin Firth (in my opinion, the BBC mini-series beats all adaptations in film or television). I don't usually give up on anything but there is absolutely no hope for this one.


I recently went on a day trip to the English countryside...I try never to pass up any opportunity to visit the English countryside as I find it so beautiful and calming and rooted in tradition and history which is such a refreshing break from our fast-paced modern lifestyles. A small group of us rode up to Cambridgeshire to see a family's estate and collection of art from the 17th to the 19th century. 


We met Sir William who toured us around his home; he was very informative and engaging and funny but like I said, no hope for this dreamer. After a relaxing lunch, we were to be treated to a tour of their private gardens. It was a lovely day.

While strolling in the gardens, I couldn't help recall the story of Lady Chatterley in the classic and controversial novel by D.H. Lawrence and the film from the early '80's starring Nicholas Clay as the brutish yet sexy gamekeeper. I was very young when I saw the film and it obviously had quite an impact on me as I remember it now many years later. Nicholas Clay was also in the unforgettable film Excalibur where he played a dashing Lancelot. Love all things medieval especially knights in shining armour storming castles. I was curious to find out what happened to him as I try to see all of my favourite British actors here onstage and sadly, I read that he's no longer with us. 

We met up with the gardener in the afternoon and he led us around the beautiful private grounds....a very nice man, but alas, neither brutish nor dashing. So, my search continues.... but I doubt anyone will come close to Sir Lancelot.

Wes's World

I just LOVE Wes Anderson films. You enter into his quirky, colourful universe which is always unique and bizarre but somewhat familiar and comfortable at the same time.  I don't know how he does it. The characters, the clothes, the dialogue, the soundtrack....every little detail is perfect.


I recently saw his latest Moonrise Kingdom and it is fantastic - such a nice break from the superhero and sci-fi blockbusters this summer. You can't help falling in love with it all. The cast is brilliant - the two leads are so good at such a young age. Bruce Willis has never been better (I admit I have been secretly in love with Bruce Willis since he did Moonlighting on TV ages ago) and Jason Schwartzman was actually hot in the few minutes he was on screen (maybe it was the Ray-Bans or his being unshaven with short hair for once or his tight scout uniform or all of the above - OK it was a moment of weakness). 


His film-making is so original. Even the books she carries around and reads out loud to the boys are made-up...with their beautiful and appropriate covers and titles and words.


You must CLICK on this amazing website - it's unbelievably creative and so much fun. And Bob Balaban is the best.
Moonrise Kingdom


Of Wes's films, my all-time favourite is The Darjeeling Limited. I can watch that over and over and over again.
The Darjeeling Limited

I'm Seeing Spots

Spots are everywhere....polka dot skirts and dresses are back, spots on trousers, tops, bags, in all colours....all back from the 50's and 60's... and now very hip again and trendy for summer.

Oh, and did you hear that one of the small Damien Hirst spot paintings recently sold for $750,000? And to think he didn't even paint it! I heard about the sale from a representative at the Gagosian Gallery when we toured London galleries recently. All 11 Gagosian galleries around the world showed Hirst's Spot Paintings at the same time earlier this year. And they even had a challenge for people who wanted to see each show. There were actually 8 people who were on their way to see all 11. Unbelievable! Alright, I really don't want to get into it with Hirst again.... Let's discuss someone more interesting who has expressed more originality, sincerity, depth and timelessness.

Yayoi Kusama is a Japanese artist born in 1929 who worked mostly in Tokyo and New York from the 1950's to the early 1970's. Kusama's work encompasses many media including painting, collage, sculpture, performance art and installations. In addition, she has dabbled in fashion and film and has written novels and poetry. Recently turned 83 years old, she is still actively producing art and literary works as well as collaborating with Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton. Finally she is being recognised for her work in a career that has spanned over 60 years. Largely forgotten since the 1970's, she is now acknowledged as Japan's best-known living artist and a key figure in the New York avant-garde and precursor to Pop Art.

Yayoi Kusama exhibition at Tate Modern, London, 2012.

Kusama has said that she had visions of spots since she was a little girl. She had a passion for drawing and painting at a young age and exhibited her work when she was a teenager. She had determination to show her work where there was more freedom, especially for women artists. Kusama contacted Georgia O'Keefe in the 1950's for advice on a career in the US. She made her way to New York via Seattle where a gallery held an exhibition of her work in 1957.

Poster for Kusama's Self-Obliteration film.

I cannot even imagine the patience that was required to paint all of these spots. Huge canvases of tiny thickly-painted spots. Collages of spots made up of stickers of different colours or rectangular stickers that are typically used as mailing labels. Kusama consistently used repetition and circular patterns in her work. She also often used eyes and cilia, sometimes sperm-like forms swimming across the canvas.

Because it was the 60's, there was obviously the sexual revolution. Kusama and her friends held these ''happenings'' where many naked people were covered in paint...in, of course, spots. They made films of the happenings and of Kusama herself covered in spots. She covered a horse in spots. She covered her cat in spots. She covered a garden and a pond in spots. Mostly, she covered herself in spots...and called it her Self-Obliteration. She was also a great marketer and self-promoter, making the posters and brochures as well as dressing in clothes that match her work.

Kusama collaborated and was influenced by many artists including Donald Judd and Joseph Cornell. Her work was shown in the 1960's alongside Andy Warhol, Claes Oldenburg and James Rosenquist. In her large non-figurative canvases and installations, Kusama's work references movements of the time such as abstract expressionism and minimalism as well as her own psychological battles but I can't help feeling a strong feminist spirit, sense of sexual freedom and a certain joie de vivre.  She must have stood out amongst all of those men. 

My favourite works are the Kusama rooms. She created surreal rooms full of spots with fluorescent stickers or different coloured lightbulbs that shine against mirrors to infinity. They are spectacular and eery at the same time. 

Many of her work appear very positive and uplifting, and when you look longer and deeper it can also be quite sad or bittersweet. It sometimes feels like you are trapped in some sort of endless repetition or darkness like space. But at the same time, like space, it is so beautiful and full of stars and new discovery. Welcome to the dream-like world of Yayoi Kusama. Ahead of her time.

Kusama's Infinity Mirrored Room - Filled with the Brilliance of Life.

The Physical Impossibility of True Appreciation of Damien Hirst's Oeuvre in My Mind

I try to like his work. I really do. Honest. 

I've seen some of his work in the past - spot paintings, vitrines of cows and sheep, huge rooms full of whale blubber. And because he's so controversial, I was anxious to see his latest show, a large retrospective exhibition at the Tate Modern. Just in time for the Summer Olympics. You can see the piles of £££ now.

Hirst loves colour. Lots of it. So do I. But I'm not jazzed by his spot paintings. Falls flat for me. Strange because I love Gerhard Richter's colour grids and his latest abstracts. And I like Sol Le Witt's and Jim Lambie's work. Hmmm...

Hirst loves minimalism and order. So do I. He puts everything in nice, clean simple boxes or vitrines. These are cool. But it's the stuff inside that bothers me. That's his schtick though. He wants to make the viewer uncomfortable. Most of it just makes me nauseous. I believe I squinted and had prune face throughout the whole exhibition. 

He is obsessed with life and death. So there are lots of dead animals and dead fish and dead butterflies. Well, there are some butterflies that are alive in one very humid room; but soon they'll die and maybe he'll use them in his paintings. There's a neon zapper in the next room just in case any get away. Beautiful from far away: colour-block paintings, some like stained-glass windows and exotic mandalas. But up close, you realise they're made up of real, colourful and iridescent butterflies. I have to remember to look up how long butterflies typically live.

Then there are the flies. Lots of flies. They're alive and buzzing around a dead cow's head. Oh right, there are dead flies too. It's this cycle of life he's so focused on. To me, most of it is just gross. OK the shark is cool because it's rare to see one so close - and not be eaten. But I can't look at the cows, whole or divided, and those poor beautiful sheep. I know that Prada has a vitrine (a goat?) in their collection with hooves painted in gold. I saw it in another show. I try not to think about it (mostly because I love Prada).

Hirst loves drugs and cigarettes. Not sure if he takes them himself but he's obsessed with pharmaceuticals. Goes back to the life and death thing. Can only cure people for so long; they eventually die. True but depressing. There's an awful lot of cigarette butts and ashtrays. Apparently, the act of smoking is symbolic for the cycle of life. Whatever. Those rooms smelled. 

I must admit that I did like the medicine cabinets with the fake pills (exact replicas of real ones) especially the colourful ones. Very neat and orderly and aesthetically pleasing. But is there real meaning? Or is this just decoration. 

And I actually did like the cabinets of fabricated diamonds. The silver ones, not the gold one which was just over the top bling-y. 

Maybe that's it. The bling factor. The commercialism. The shock-and-awe. The sell-out. The overvalued skills. The diamond-crusted skull. A lot of it has been done before except he's putting more gloss and sparkle on top. It's like sugar coating but sometimes when you scratch the surface, there isn't much underneath.

Vive la France!

Very encouraging to see more strong, independent, driven women (not just celebrities and their dresses) being covered by the media...even if they are not yet holding the top job. One day...

Click on this great article from Jezebel:
http://jezebel.com/5910728/why-frances-new-first-lady-is-straight+up-awesome


And the original New York Times article that it is based on:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/05/16/world/europe/frances-first-lady-valerie-trierweiler-seeks-her-own-path.html?_r=2&pagewanted=1&hp&pagewanted=all

Trumped by Tarot

I know most people think astrology, numerology and other mystic activities to be a farce. I actually find it all quite fascinating, especially the Tarot. I don't live my life by it, but I often look up my horoscope online. I'm always curious as to what's in store for me...though I don't change my routine or act differently as a result. Sometimes I read my horoscope at the end of the day to see if it was accurate. Yesterday, I remembered to look up my daily horoscope and it was pretty boring. So I decided to draw my daily tarot cards - which are always more interesting. Maybe it's the medieval intrigue of the playing cards and the mysterious characters and all the symbolism they represent. I drew the Temperance, the Magician and the Devil (!) cards. Although this can be shocking at first, the Devil card is not always evil. It is usually about earthly desires, matter over spirit...and matched with the Magician it can be very interesting and can mean personal power, self-confidence...  Apparently, yesterday I would act devilishly authoritative to my co-workers and they should be listening to me. Hmmm....I'm not working so I just ignored it. But during the day, I did get emails from my co-workers and a number of things transpired including their agreement to my proposal for the date to return to work. Whoa! I only remembered the tarot reading later in the evening. Is there really something to this? 


Today, I drew the Wheel of Fortune, the Death (!) and the Hermit (?) cards. Apparently, the wheel tells me there is something I can turn around today with my relationships. But I'm also meant to keep my mouth shut in case I say something that may be offensive to dear ones who are more sensitive of late. Oops...I read my horoscope too late. Better stay home now and be quiet. Tomorrow is another day!

La Primavera

Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore - Il Duomo, Firenze. Photography: Rose-Coloured-Glasses, 2012.

By now, you all know how much Italy inspires me...especially Florence. The city's heyday was centuries ago, but what an incredible influence they have been to our world and will be for future generations.

Self-Portrait, Detail from the Adoration of the Magi, Uffizi Gallery, Firenze.

Well, today is the anniversary of the death of Sandro Botticelli (~1445-1510), the brilliant and graceful Renaissance artist who painted the Birth of Venus and La Primavera. Although not much is known about his life, apparently Botticelli was a quick wit and enjoyed playing practical jokes on his friends and students. Also, it is rumoured that he was in love with a married woman called Simonetta Vespucci, the muse for his Venus and other beauties in his paintings. 

The Birth of Venus, Uffizi Gallery, Firenze.

Simonetta, originally from Genoa, had married Marco Vespucci, a distant cousin of Amerigo Vespucci, from a prominent and well-connected family in Florence. Simonetta was considered the most beautiful woman in Florence - or even the age of the Renaissance. She also managed to easily entrance the ruling Medici brothers, Lorenzo and Giuliano, the latter who jousted in her honour. From nobleman to artist, every man was smitten by her beauty.

Alas, Simonetta died very young at the age of 22. And Botticelli, who never married, requested to be buried at her feet at the Church of Ognissanti, the parish church of the Vespucci family. His request was in fact fulfilled when he died 34 years later.

Whether this is all true or legend, I don't know a more romantic story for Springtime.

Chiesa di Ognissanti (All-Saints Church), Firenze. Photography: Rose-Coloured-Glasses, 2012.

Mr. President

For someone who doesn't care so much about George Clooney, I write an awful lot about him! Only because he's in the news so much. Did you hear that he's throwing a party for Barack Obama at his home in California? It will be $40,000 per person for dinner and will go towards the Prez. I don't know about you but I wouldn't pay $40,000 to have dinner at George's....but maybe if he held it in Lake Como...

Writer's Block

Slowly I am being pulled closer and closer towards writing a book or something that will be published...not fiction as I'm rubbish at making things up completely. I will never be a JK Rowling or the chick who wrote 50 Shades of Grey (was this truly fiction or non-fiction? regardless, how incredible this started as a Twilight fan fiction website into an e-book trilogy phenomenon).  Non-fiction? Hmmm...not so good at that either. I'm not really a journalist...if you're a true journalist, you have to be relentless to find the truth and expose it to the world at all costs...I'm not a journalist. Not that I wouldn't want to find the truth and share this finding with everyone. I think my style is more...well, light-hearted?...fun? I suppose I can be very serious and discuss and debate very serious things...but I believe life is too short. And that we should have some fun and not be so serious all the time. Besides, CNN and BBC and the New York Times and the Guardian and all the other news sources have all the serious stuff covered. I'm a cross between Daily Beast, Gawker and TMZ! Okay, maybe not that bad...but I have to say they are entertaining. And part of me wants to entertain. But not to the detriment of the truth of what I feel and want to say. I have to say that I am enjoying this liberating feeling from writing my thoughts and expressing my feelings. One of my very good friends told me once, and I will never forget it, 'don't censor yourself'. More to come on this...I hope you will stay tuned. 

Smells like Teen Spirit

I feel like a teenager...I cannot believe how giddy I am about the new Avengers movie. I'm so anxious to see it. I don't always go for the high-brow films, you know, or only look for the next foreign language film Oscar winner. Actually, I often fall within the 13-year old boy demographic.


Speaking of blockbuster season...this summer I have so many concerts lined up, it's like I've been transported back to my youth. Except the acts that I'm seeing are all my age or older. And like me, they may not move as spritely as in the past. Duran Duran, Madonna, New Order, Blur... Oh! I may get emotional! This is going to be fantastic!


And in other news this week... I heard that Courtney Love has lost the publicity rights to the Cobain name, likeness and appearance. All control over the use of Kurt's intellectual property now belongs to his daughter. This is huge! Go Frances Bean! I'm sure Dave Grohl has a big smile out there somewhere.


Bring on summer! This is our youth!
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x9hvly_nirvana-smells-like-teen-spirit_music

Back to School!

I dressed for a nice warm spring day today based on the fact that it was warm and humid yesterday and today's forecast was exactly the same as yesterday's. But I chose poorly as it turned out to be a chilly and windy autumn-like day - just like every first day of school in September since I was 6 years old! It didn't matter though - my art history class is brilliant! 


The programme director is extremely interesting and funny (and kept me awake unlike similar classes in the past!) and reminds me of Richard Attenborough in Jurassic Park...except he's an expert in antique furniture and European decorative arts, not dinosaurs. Today's lecturer was a premier architecture historian and resident comedian... like Michael Palin doing his tour around the world... only with more sarcasm and we were touring around London's 20th century buildings (I cannot believe that the 20th century is now part of architecture 'history').  And the class! Well, the class is like an eccentric cast of characters in a Wes Anderson film:  a demure and motherly Vanessa Redgrave from Dorset, a friendly, artsy Shelley Long from Southern California, the casual-chic and modern German woman with the most excellent leather accessories, the wealthy English blonde with great designer wardrobe and a bad tan, the chavvy brunette with a bit of a loud mouth in class but mildly entertaining, and her tag-along ginger friend (sort of like an older version of the 2 female characters that Matt Lucas and David Walliams do in Little Britain - you know who I mean!), the quiet Chilean wine-maker (who agrees with me that the wines by Coppola are not that good) and the good-looking Belgian metrosexual/workaholic. There are a few other ladies who band around together and wear a similar costume of leather jacket, jeans and boots. They were obviously better prepared than I was for today's weather! 


Cannot wait for next week. I really wish I had been able to take all 3 terms...

Inception

Remember that film about dreams a couple of years ago starring Leonardo DiCaprio (in a role with him doing too much talking I think...and a miscast Marion Cotillard who is usually a terrific actress...best part was Joseph Gordon-Levitt in funny deadpan doing his own cool stunts in the levitating fight scenes)?  Well, it just popped into my head because my crazy dreams are back... and I thought I had been sleeping much better!  Last night was non stop, multiple dreams with repetition and extension every time I woke up briefly and fell back asleep. Full of fast cars driven by strangers who first seem nice then end up kidnapping me and my friends, seeing friends chained outside like wild dogs (but no violence or blood, thank goodness!), frantically running around a huge mansion to try to escape, and it's always raining and muddy and I splash into puddles trying to save myself and my friends... then I woke up... before I could save anyone including myself.


I must REALLY seek out some sleep academy....or find a way to meet up with Leo and crew. 
Click here for Inception Trailer

Om

I'm not really into meditation or yoga or anything but I'm feeling quite relaxed. So I guess I was right in thinking that the first phase of the process takes about three months. But how long to come full circle and reach some level of rejuvenation and clarity?

Overdrive

I truly believe that Ryan Gosling has officially transformed into his alter-ego the Driver. First he broke up a street fight a few months ago. Now he's apparently saved a woman from oncoming traffic. Both in Gotham. Is he for real? 


Last year he seemed omnipresent in several films out at the same time, in all of which he was excellent as usual. But he was not to be seen in any of the biggest awards shows in Hollywood or abroad...even though he was nominated many times. Do you think he was out scouring the globe saving damsels (and dudes) in distress and quietly protecting us from evil villains? 




For your viewing and listening pleasure...such a great film (she's a bit annoying but makes a decent damsel) and excellent soundtrack!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=peymmIeEdls&feature=relmfu

Like Facebook?

I had such a lovely long weekend in New York...saw a brilliant play and great art, had some fab meals, damaged my budget significantly with amazing shopping and most importantly, I was able to meet up with many friends, some of whom I haven't seen in several years.


We talked about how to stay in touch more frequently and someone suggested Facebook may be the best vehicle. Except that most of my friends aren't on Facebook. And have no intention of joining any time soon. I can relate as I denied FB for the longest time, until 2010 when I finally caved in (it was the quickest and easiest way to see my friends' photos). Now I go on almost daily to check in on what's going on outside of my micro-self-universe.


Only to enter everyone else's micro-self-universe! Some days I can get so addicted that I go on multiple times, post several photos and status updates and 'Like' tons of links and posts and photos. On other days, I can get so disgusted by the ridiculous and random and, to be honest, boring posts people put up there - I really don't care that you had to call the plumber (shouldn't you be watching him do his job rather than go on FB?) or that you sold a bunch of stuff on e-Bay while the kids play outside (shouldn't you be watching the kids?). Seriously, would you really like to know whenever I have to go to the loo? or every time I am hungry? Which is very often on both counts. Ugh - these are not significant events people! 


While in NYC, one of my friends, a FB addict like myself, tells the other, a non-FB addict that she saw heaps of photos of her on FB from a recent party she attended. She (the non-FB addict) was appalled! She couldn't believe we even knew about the party (it was just a small work thing) and shocked that there are photos of her for everyone to see. We showed her the photos and she got increasingly angry. It was pretty funny...for us, not for her. Unfortunately she can't do anything about it. The photos are out there by virtue of her innocently attending a party with a camera-happy, FB-addicted party-goer. Yes, the photos are out there in cyberspace and out of her control. Thing is, the photos weren't even bad....there are certainly worse things out there.


So I get the hundreds of photos of your kids (sometimes), exotic travel destinations (without showing off too much) and family reunions (can get overwhelming and unattractive), but why would anyone post photos of themselves in a barely-there bikini for all their friends to see? Can you say insecure? or is it self-centred? Don't get me wrong - we all post beach photos...but these were different and a bit disturbing...I may actually be scarred for life. 


As we looked through the party-goer's photos, there were many...I mean many....of just herself doing everything from skiing to drinking to sitting on the beach. There were several by the pool from a compromising position. So this got us all thinking - not that we are prudish - that someone would firstly, have to consciously have someone take a photo of them from this vantage point (or perhaps they have a sleazy friend who took the shots on their own accord...not sure which is worse) and secondly, consider posting the photos, and then actually load the photos on FB and add a clever caption. Where is your dignity?


I suppose it's the world we live in these days. Everyone wants attention - and to be the star of their own reality show. Except not everyone is funny or witty or charming or remotely entertaining.


Regardless, I am still a fan of Facebook as it truly enables us to stay connected with friends and family all over the world with ease. I just want to know where all these servers are though, the ones storing all of the random posts, ridiculous status updates and photos, flattering and not so flattering. I would want to find those...in the meantime, my skill as a good sieve is being used to maximum capacity.

Stalking Spiderman in the Big Apple

Very intense powerful performances (seemed forced at first but got much better with some pretty explosive scenes and lots of crying - I wish I was closer to see all the emotion and tears) the other night by Philip Seymour Hoffman and Andrew Garfield in Death of a Salesman - and I thought Finn Wittrock and John Glover were very good too. Classic story. But what a downer....and stark memories of reading the book in high school....I was feeling very pensive and kinda low....until I walked out of theatre and saw tons of girls (and many mums) waiting outside of the stage door. And a big black SUV sitting out front with dark windows. It was freezing out but thought I would wait to see who comes out first....girl who played the mistress walked out with no drama, then Finn who got applause and walked straight across to the pub, then I saw all the phones go up so I got my phone ready...could hardly see Andrew so slight (think I could take him on and break him in two he's so skinny) and not as tall as I thought in a navy blue hoodie (he didn't pay any attention to Geraldo Rivera or maybe he did! He did look like some punk kid you shouldn't mess with...). He signed lots and lots of autographs and I took not so great pics.  Was shivering so all pics shaky!! Anyway I was super cold. Is it bad that I didn't wait for PSH??!!! Sacrilegious I know!! Was freezing and windy!! And I had no tights on and open toe shoes!! I walked initially towards Broadway but thought 8th Ave would be less crowded and taxi can take me right uptown easily. So I turned around passed the theatre again and realised AG was still signing autographs....then he walked to talk to someone in front of theatre. Oh! He didn't get into the black SUV! He was walking diagonally across the street towards me! I slowed down (damn it was so cold my legs are still numb!). Geez he stopped in front of the pub and hugged a girl who was with Finn who tried to get him to come into pub but he waved him off and walked towards 8th Ave. Then I realised it was just him....and me....oh dear I am following him and it barely crosses my mind that it may not be a great idea to be walking alone towards Hells Kitchen this time of night. He stopped to go around some crazy drunk couples. Then he walked through a very large group of very large scary guys. I just followed his lead. I had to get a taxi for goodness sake! I couldn't see any and kept following him to get ahead of other people who were hailing frantically. Finally got a taxi and saw AG walking all the way down 8th Ave. Like most regular theatre actors just walking home. You gotta love this guy. I have said it before and I will say it again - that Emma Stone is one lucky girl. And if they can't stand the attention now, wait until this summer when Spiderman opens....