Dear Lemon Lima

Ex Machina.

I have a gigantic heart. So huge that it's almost cardiomegaly freakish. Kidding. It's way bigger than that.

Here's how I think of it : I have a tiny little machine in this one corner of my heart that makes my love. I guess you could say the creator of my machine was feeling pretty audacious the day he put my particular model together. To the naked eye, it looks like any other machine of it's kind, but there's more to it than your eyes can recognize. My machine was built with a handle on the side that cranks unusually fast (faster than almost every other version of this same machine), pumping out lots and lots and lots of love; in fact, so much love that it almost bursts the seams that hold my heart together (from being broken, of course.) The funny thing is, that no matter what kind, size or shape of love it is, it all comes from this same machine. Sometimes, anyone within it's radius finds the shape of it hard to make out, even me (the owner.) Not to mention, it's a far from perfect version; sometimes the gears get a little stiff, sometimes the footing is a little unstable, and sometimes what is cranked out that particular day belongs in the "damaged" pile. It doesn't always know when to start and it surely doesn't always know when to stop; but the one thing that's perfect about my little machine is that it sits in a little corner of in my heart, and there it will always be safe.

-C.

I guess you could say I'm kind of a fan.

http://theamazingbaby.com/

I don't believe in this.

Oracle Dice Rolled : 1 and 6.

Question : How shall I know my future life mate?

Answer : The one whom you now dislike.
Reaction : I'd expect nothing less.
After-thought : I wonder if it's a cat.

Yann Perreau: L'amour se meurt from Bonsound on Vimeo.

Wring me out.

This entry is entirely self serving. It serves no purpose to anyone who reads this other than myself. It's a simply a dictated file from within the knots of my rubberband-ball to remind me of what lies at the center, and hope that the time where I forget these things never comes.



I am a sponge. I feel first, think last. Every pore on my skin is a welcoming chute, in which every word or experience that grazes the surface has a direct pathway to my heart. I soak you up. Not surprisingly, being this way has hindered my life. Some people have crippling fear; I have crippling feel.

I was thinking recently that the five things that I am the best at and most passionate about, are the five things that are missing from my life now. I went through a loss about 3 years ago, and ever since then, I have watched myself slowly cut everything out of my life that held the most meaning to me. All of my interest in psychology and what motivates our brains/emotions/actions/reactions, makes it clear as day why I have built this wrought iron gate around myself. Nonetheless, it's time I dissect myself and realize the effect these absences are having.

1. Dance. I was in a lot of activities as a little girl, like music lessons, twirling, gymnastics; but dance was the one that resonated for life. It's the only activity that allows me to let go and just be. When I am dancing, I allow myself to feel without judgement or fear. I am a good dancer, not an incredible one, but it will never matter to me. When I am dancing, my heart swells.

2. Art. I have not made a finished piece of art for myself in over 2 years. I have made commissioned pieces, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it for me anymore. I've thought about this a lot. I go through periods where my skin literally starts to break out and my body aches because there is something inside of me that needs to be released on paper/canvas/air. I am fully conscious of this when it happens, in fact it's been happening lately. But I can't. I can't let it out because it's something that comes from within me, and when materialized in tangible form, makes me vulnerable to losing it somehow. I fear that whatever it is, whatever comes out will expose my disgusting mess of an inside. That whatever I will create will be ugly, and repulsive, and broken, and scared and lost and unwanted and alone.

3. Act. It's always perplexed (even) me that the most precious thing to me is the one that I talk about the least. I can't even form words to express the hole in me from not being able to act. It sounds bizarre, but it's the only way I feel I can connect with anyone, through being someone else. Through believably sharing someone's experience and creating some sort of empathy for people who's lives are different than all of our own. It's how I learn; it's how I teach. It's my fertilizer and without it my growth is trivial.

4. Faith/Hope.

5. Love. Without a shred of doubt, I am better at love than I am at anything. I love with every tiny molocule of my being, unconditionally and without question. Love. Even saying the word makes me want to unzip my shell, release the foggy cloud from within my skin and soar to the highest of mountaintops without ever ceasing. When I am given the permission (safety) to love wholeheartedly, it is singlehandedly the happiest I ever am and ever will be. And it seems as though my life has turned out to ask me not to. Or at least, I've begun to believe I will never find a place safe enough to.

I realize how important it is to never let those things that give meaning to your life slip away. I am still working out the answer on how to (allow myself to) get them back.

Thoughts.

Silence is golden.

I wanted to share an exciting email I received from Cinefamily (here in Los Angeles) about the return of silent films to the Silent Movie Theater! If you're unfamiliar, The Cinefamily is an organization of self-proclaimed movie lovers specializing in showcasing cult, avant garde, weird, educational and exceptional films. The family takes claim to the Silent Movie Theater in Los Angeles (which ran for four decades as the only fully functioning silent movie theater in the country), and hosts different themed film nights, special events, and so on. It's a truly remarkable organization for anyone to be a part of, especially film lovers and those with a fascination of the unique.

Cinefamily,

There's been a lot of wondering and concern about the state of silent films in the Cinefamily program, so I wanted to send a missive both clarifying our past approach, and informing you about the future -- a future that does include the continued tradition of showing silent films here. The Cinefamily is a non-profit whose goals are to explore *every* corner of cinema, and perhaps even a little beyond those corners, seeking to discover and share all kinds of film. We really do like it all, and want our program to be a big "tent" with great films from every genre, every place, and every decade. So it was not a conflict for us to continue the tradition of silent films here, a landscape rich with masterpieces and curios. The fact that we were welcomed into the Silent Movie Theatre, a wonderful home with such a rich history, was exciting -- but we also knew might lead to confusion.

Though we do many things here, we are keeping the tradition of showing silents at The Silent Movie Theatre alive with its own special time slot. For the past three years (two years since we opened, and one year previous while we were planning everything), we've dedicated one day a week to silents. The theatre had been exisiting for some time previously as a private rental house for weddings, parties, and private screenings, so this was actually an increase in silent screenings. Since last October, we did take some time off to assess the best course of action, but have no fear: the plan was to return stronger than ever.

We now have a guest programmer the first Wednesday of every month -- The Silent Treatment -- who will be showing rare archival prints, most of which are unavailable on DVD. While we may not show silents each and every Wednesday, we will show at least two or three a month, and we also plan on starting a matinee program in the spring, with more family-friendly classics by the big names in silent comedy -- Chaplin, Keaton, etc. Our investment is real -- we even bought new 18-frames-per-second motors (instead of the usual 24) for our projectors, so that we could show true 35mm restorations like The Flapper this Wednesday.

Keep in mind: we don't show silent films to make money, and in order to show as many as possible, we do need your support. The shows are more, not less, expensive than regular screenings, because we also have a live musician and a short program each time, both of which are above and beyond normal costs. Unlike previous owners, we inherited virtually no in-house library of films; while previous Silent Movie Theatre programmers could keep silents shows affordable by showing only public domain films they owned in-house prints of over and over again, every short and feature we show now costs us both rental and shipping fees. In addition, showing rare archival prints requires higher separate print loan fees (aside from rights clearances), insurance, and other sundry expenses.

If you want to help, in addition to attending the silents shows, you can also make tax-deductible donations to the Cinefamily -- and if you want to leave a little note "earmarking" your support for silent films, that does send a message. You can paypal us at donate@cinefamily.org, or mail a donation (with your name and address, so we can get you your receipt) to:

The Cinefamily
611 N. Fairfax Avenue
Los Angeles, CA, 90036

Oh, and lest I forget! We're re-opening our silents program with a film I've been dying to show. The Flapper is the best flapper movie this side of It, and undeservedly forgotten actress Olive Thomas was the first Hollywood starlet to earn the appellation. Sexy, fun, and a classic example of the kind of rare screening we hope to show more of (a 35mm print from The Eastman House is a really big deal, guys!), you should all come out to the show. To make it more fun, it's half-off the ticket price if you come in 1920s period costume, and feel free to join us at our "speakeasy" on the back porch (the password is: "swordfish"). So put on the ritz, rope a dope, bring your sugardaddy and come to the Cinefamily petting pantry to catch the latest flick. They're the cat's meow!

Best, and thank you for your time,
Hadrian Belove, Executive Director, The Cinefamily


Please take the time to visit : www.cinefamily.org

Okinawa Churaumi Aquarium.

This is precisely the kind of thing that brings me to tears. It's hard to focus on things that make us unhappy, when beauty like this exists on our precious planet.

A beautiful video made of the world's 2nd largest aquarium by Jon Rawlinson.



Go to the link directly to view a full screen version. Definitely worth the click.