Lynda Barry Animal Ad Lib

 I've posted about my Lynda Barry drawing and writing (mostly drawing) exercises on here before. I thought this latest one was fun, called "Animal Ad Lib." You write a diary entry for 5 minutes each day, and then spend 15 minutes drawing a wild or exotic animal (the more unfamiliar the animal, the better). Then, after six days or so, you draw each animal again for only five minutes, with the animals speaking the first line of your diary entry for that day. (The exercise comes from this awesome book.) 

So, here's what I created: 

I find it kind of amusing that my only "angry" animal (that's supposed to be a baboon, lol) is saying the only "angry" line of a diary -- totally a subconscious connection.

Unexpected Parallels

 It dawned on me yesterday that my life right now has some unexpected parallels to my life when in Indonesia as an English Language Fellow in 2012-2013. Namely, during my time in Surabaya, I dressed in whatever comfortable clothes covered my body (I taught at a Muslim university). The outfits were generally loose, long-sleeved shirts with maxi skirts or flowy palazzo-style pants. I didn't really think that much about matching because no one else really cared that much it!

These days, I obviously don't have to dress quite as conservatively, but the I have spent the past five months basically wearing whatever feels comfortable to me, as opposed to dressing "for" people or trying to be fashionable or chic. And...this ends up being loose pants and skirts with a t-shirt or tank top (I can reveal more of my arms in Los Angeles, thank goodness!). 

I think once we get "out" of this pandemic, I will not be uncertain about my own sense of style, much as I felt when I returned to the U.S. after living in Indonesia for 10 months. I used to love getting dressed and dressing creatively, but after spending so many months of putting whatever shirt doesn't smell too bad--I'm not sure what I'll want to wear.

New things I've considered (somewhat seriously) doing during this pandemic

In no particular order:

1. Getting a tattoo

2. Getting a dog

3. Buying a bike

4. Re-learning how to roller blade (and buying roller blades)

5. Memorizing poems (specifically that soliloquy from Macbeth that Mr. Jansson made us memorize but I have subsequently forgotten)

More items may be added later.

A minor breaking point in this pandemic

Today I broke down in tears about the pandemic for the first time. I've had lots of tears recently regarding lots of things (Black Lives Matter, personal stuff), but I hadn't actually cried because of the pandemic. And I feel weird crying about it because I am honestly very lucky: I'm white; I have enough money saved that it's OK if I don't have a full-time teaching job this summer; no one I know personally has caught the virus, let alone died from it.

And then kind of randomly, the film Maurice triggered me. The film overall was very powerful and beautiful and sweet, and, like many films, it has scenes of people socializing at large parties and in groups. I think partly because I was connecting so emotionally with the film in general, I started crying during one of these social scenes. After the film ended, I told Ari about my experience, and cried more. Later, while washing the dishes, I listened to the Death, Sex & Money podcast called "Skin Hunger: Part 1" which was all about how people who are living alone during this pandemic miss being touched, both romantically and platonically, by other people. I am lucky enough to live with a very affectionate husband, and I consider myself a fairly introverted person. Therefore, for the past three months, I have generally been quite happy reading books and watching movies and browsing the internet for hours every day, while giving and receiving daily physical touch.

Yet with the scary increase in COVID-19 cases recently, it's really hit home today that "we" are not back to normal yet, and our society should still be self-isolating as much as possible. It scares me to think about how long I will have to wait before gathering at a party with lots of other people while feeling carefree about it. I didn't think not being able to go to a party would feel this painful, but after more than three months of essentially staying home, it's hurting more than I ever expected.

Lynda Barry's Pandemic Diary Project

I am a recent convert to Lynda Barry and her awesomeness. During my time at home, I've been trying to do some of the exercises from her book, Making Comics, which I bought back in November 2019.

ANYWAY, the NY Times ran an article by Barry about how to remember this time, especially the period right when everything was changing, as there is "a particular clarity to the memory and feeling of the ordinary transforming into its opposite."

So, this morning I followed her exercise. I typed up some of my answers below. (I wrote them down in a notebook, originally. Also, I think we're supposed to do this exercise daily, like a true diary entry, but I will probably just do it once.)

"Scenes that come back to me when I think about started to change"

• Students in my class (about half?) wearing face masks. Some students wiping off their desks before sitting in them. 
• Joking with my coworker Scott on the way into the building about hoping the Coronavirus spread to USC so we wouldn't have to go to work. 
• Getting my nails done (on March 11, I think) in a salon (Nail'd It). No one was wearing face masks, but I remember thinking this might be my last chance to get my nails done for a while. 
• So much indecision re: flying up to visit college friends in the Bay Area (and celebrating Kaylan with a friends baby "sprinkle) the weekend of March 13-16. Decided not to go, ultimately. 
• Seeing First Cow (Kelly Reichardt film) at the Arclight Pasadena on Sunday, March 15. About three other couples there. Every other row was roped off. Theaters told to close the next day, I think.  Last movie seen in a theater before everything closed. 
• Monitoring cases n the Johns Hopkins map showing red dots wehre all the cases were. Kind of a big dot in Los Angeles. 
• Seeing that Pasadena had a confirmed case (in the LA Times) and wondering how concerned I should be.

Top Five Moviegoing Experiences - International Version

Today I'd like to share my favorite international moviegoing experiences (in chronological order, like the previous list).

1. Aladdin (1992) in Tokyo. This was the year my family was living abroad, and because movies were so expensive in Japan, my family literally only went to ONE movie in a theater that whole year. My Grandma Gene had sent me and my sister ALL of the Disney merch in advance of the film's release. I remember we had the step-up readers book, stuffed animals, and most importantly: the soundtrack, which we memorized and performed for our parents. I also remember I pronounced Jafar's name "Jaf-ee-ar" for some reason when I read the book. Anyway, to say I was primed to love the film is a bit of an understatement. I still remember feeling like I needed to pinch myself once the opening bars of "Arabian Nights" started (and I'm pretty sure I quietly sang along to all of the songs in the theater...).

2. Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003) in Bangkok. I got to live in Bangkok for a month after graduating from high school, since I had a friend, Pauline, who went there every summer to visit her dad. She invited me to come for part of the trip, and I was pretty lucky to have parents who agreed to allow me to go (despite the fact that I missed orientation for UC Davis!). Anyway, the movie itself was predictably terrible, but this experience stands out because before the film started, they played the Thai national anthem, and everyone in the theater had to rise and honor the king. The experience was bizarre; it was one of the times on that trip when I felt the most like a foreigner.

3. The Da Vinci Code (2006) in Göttingen, Germany. This was when I studied abroad in Germany for my junior year of college. I went to a decent number of films in Germany, but this one stands out to me for a couple reasons: 1. It was an "event" (I went with a group of American friends who had all read the book, so we were pretty excited to see the adaptation) and 2. almost all movies are dubbed in Germany (they don't like subtitles, apparently), so hearing Tom Hanks speaking German was super weird. I'd never realized how iconic his voice is! Also, in Germany, all movies that are longer than two hours have an intermission, so it was weird to experience that -- People buying beer and smoking in the lobby during those 10 minutes we had to hang out till we could go back into the theater.

4. Les Miserables (2013) in Surabaya, Indonesia. I lived in Surabaya for 10 months, teaching English as an English Language Fellow for the State Department. As with Germany, I went to the movies a lot during those 10 months, often as a coping mechanism for homesickness. I'm picking it out of all the movies I saw while in Indonesia because while I was watching the film, I remember thinking, "How much do these Indonesian audience members even know or care about the French Revolution??" while I was watching it. It was disorienting to watch a film about a historical event that felt so distant from the culture I was currently living in. Side note: As someone who did not grow up obsessed with this musical, this film did NOTHING to win me over. Good try, Hugh Jackman.

5. The Before trilogy (2014) in Paris, France. Once again, I am cheating, because I did not watch the trilogy in a movie theater. It was way better than that! On my first visit to Leah as a Parisian resident (she was living with her then-boyfriend, now-husband Urbain at the time), I had a wonderful time visiting all the usual tourist sights (the Centre Pompidou, Monet's garden, Versailles, etc.). But honestly, the best part might have been the day it poured rain and we decided to lie in bed and watch the whole trilogy back to back, projected on the wall. If you are a fan of this series, then you know. It was heaven.

Top Five Moviegoing Experiences

Wow, it's been a while since I posted here. Ever since our stay-at-home orders, I've been thinking about trying to blog a bit more. But unsurprisingly, I wasn't actually motivated to do it until I was inspired to write about movies.

So, a little background first. My favorite podcast is Filmspotting, and every week the two hosts do a top five, inspired by the film High Fidelity. This week, they discussed their top five moviegoing experiences, as a nostalgic look back on the days when we could actually go to movie theaters. Their list inspired me to create my own list. Once I'd started it, it became clear I needed a U.S. list and an "international" movie list (I love going to movies in other countries!!). Without further ado, here is the U.S. list, in chronological order.  (I'll post the international list tomorrow; this post got too long for two lists.)

U.S. Top Five
1. Titanic (1998) at the Mann Theater in Monrovia with Cammy. LEO! I distinctly remember not being able to stop crying after the movie ended. We went shopping at Mervyn's after (in the same strip mall as the theater) and I broke down in tears at least once amongst the t-shirts. So began my years-long obsession with Leonardo DiCaprio. (1998, I think -- I remember I didn't see it right when it came out at the end of 1997, because it was a debate with my parents about whether I was even allowed to see it or not.)

2. Fast and the Furious (2001) at the Krikorian in Monrovia with Cammy and her boyfriend Ed and his friend Mike. I think this is the closest I've ever come to a double date at the movies? My sophomore year of high school had just ended, and it was so fun to start off the summer by going see a movie with BOYS. The movie was perfect for a sort-of double date; I actually think I enjoyed it quite a bit. (I have zero interest in revisiting that film because...let's just keep the happy memory, right?)

3. Chicago (2002/2003) at the Pasadena Paseo. This was the year I camped out for the Rose Parade with a bunch of high school friends during our senior year. Billy McLellan and I were sick of the cold (and likely very bored), so we decided to go see the last showing of Chicago (I think it started at about 10:30pm) at the theater that was closest to where we were camped out. We had both already seen it at least twice already. Maybe one or two other people were in the theater with us?  We put the arm rests up, so we could lie down across multiple seats. Midnight struck while the film was playing, so we didn't even celebrate it, which was just fine with both of us.

4. Requiem for a Dream (2004? I think it was freshman year.) in Wellman Hall (?) on campus at UC Davis. This one is a bit of a cheat, because it wasn't in an actual movie theater. My friend Scott figured out that many of the buildings on campus at UC Davis were not locked at night, and you could just go into some of the lecture halls and project a movie onto the screen. So a group of us snuck in at least twice to watch both Reservoir Dogs and Requiem for a Dream. After that, I think the staff caught on and started locking the doors so we couldn't do it again. I am putting Requiem for a Dream as my main memory here, because I had a strong feeling of "...whoa" after watching it. Reservoir Dogs I disliked because it was too nasty and violent. Which--I mean, Requiem is pretty much equally violent and nasty. To be honest, I am not interested in revisiting either film. But sneaking in to watch these films with a bunch of my new college friends was thrilling.

5. Ran (2009) at Film Forum with Ari. So began my love affair with Film Forum (and with Ari!). This was my first time visiting Ari in New York City, and it was basically a perfect trip. It was also my first time spending time with Ari off the cruise ship, and my first time visiting NYC outside of a 4-day trip one other time in senior year of college. Ari played tour guide and took me to the repertory theater Film Forum, since he knew I was a budding cinephile. He picked Ran (a rather challenging pick, honestly), but it was perfect. When I moved to NYC a year later to start grad school, I became a member of Film Forum and basically caught a film there whenever I had free time. Film Forum remains the only theater I think of as "mine." 

6. Adding another one because I want to! Wonder Woman (June 2, 2017) at the Vista Theater in Los Feliz. I've never been a person who felt she had to see movies on opening day. But in summer 2017, Ari and I were doing a thing where we tried to explore a new area of Los Angeles (actually new to Ari, somewhat new to me) every Friday. We happened to be exploring Los Feliz on the day Wonder Woman opened, and we walked by the Vista Theater (a cool, old-fashioned one-screen theater) at the end of our exploration. We were planning to head home when we saw the line forming for the first screening of the day, probably around 1pm. I managed to talk Ari into buying a ticket and getting in line. This meant we had to wait in line (Ari hates waiting in line) for a good 45 minutes or so, but once we got in--and got really good seats!--I knew it was worth it. Everyone was SO into the movie and I had the experience so many women had of crying uncontrollably during some of the most bad-ass fight scenes with Wonder Woman. I am NOT a fan of superhero films in general, but this movie totally won me over.

Privilege

In honor of Black History Month, I am going to exercise #4 suggested by the Instagram post below (which was my radar thanks to Hannah's reposting):

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kerry Connelly (@kerry.connelly) on Feb 1, 2019 at 6:53am PST

10 ways I personally benefit from privilege:

1. Almost all public spaces feel welcoming to me, including museums, office buildings, and libraries. 
2. I can choose not to follow the news without it having a great effect on me.  
3. I am not afraid of the police. I have never been afraid of the police. 
4. I don’t worry about my husband having an altercation with the police.
5. I don’t worry about how to raise my children to behave around the police and law enforcement.
6. Sephora and other beauty/makeup shops always have makeup that matches with my skin tone and hair products that work for my hair.
7. I don’t have to worry about speaking “correctly” in person or over the phone in order to avoid being negatively judged.
8. I grew up in a “nice area of town” and experienced no financial troubles growing up. This is undoubtedly due in part (if not in large part) to the fact that my family is white.
9. Shop employees don’t follow me around the store, afraid I’m going to shoplift.
10. I can find many, many representations of myself in the media I consume (tv shows, movies, books). 

A couple other culture suggestions for this month:

• Read the short story collection Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. To be honest, the stories are extremely depressing and disturbing, but there's no denying the author's brilliance, especially in the first story, called "The Finkelstein 5." 
• Listen to this great interview with the 75-year-old black poet Nikki Giovanni. She's got spunk! Also, she knew Rosa Parks!