artistic license

'Melancholia', the new Lars Von Trier film, literally looks at death in the face. We know from the outset of this movie that the planet of Melancholia is indeed on a crash course with earth. And the whole idea of death is a pretty heavy one. But Von Trier goes there, an act for which I take my hat off to him. Margaret gave the movie a full rating of 5, whereas David gave the film only half of Margaret's quota. It is visually beautiful, which allows the challenging themes to be, I find, more easy to digest. 
Fear of death, or attachment to life, is one of the kleshas in yogic philosophy. By this, it is one of the five aspects of life that hold us back from permanent bliss. One of my favourite parts of a yoga class is the savasana. It is called 'corpse' pose for a reason. We need to surrender, not fight against the inevitability  of what's essentially a well earned rest. As melancholia came hurtling towards the protagonists, the child had a peaceful half smile on his face. The innocence of children is really a mirror for our own essential innocence. Reminding us to be light, to live, right now.
Von Trier made public the fact that he suffered an extended bout of depression prior to making this movie. Some would say that, upon viewing the movie, this makes sense. But I like to think that this process of film making helped him to find his way out. He told some of his story and this is the fabric of life. Our stories connect us. Death and depression are two parts of life. Shying away from either won't make them go away. But making a movie about them, however, makes people aware.
It also reminds us to connect. I was lucky to have Thai food to share with friends after. Dunst's character in the film was lucky to have the kindness of a young child. This child inspired her to make a magic cave, one that would protect them from a plummeting planet. The planet did indeed take their physcial selves, but is it the magic cave that has held onto their souls.

Mountains by moonlight

Upon moving to the country, I can't say that I've eaten a lot of peaches, but I have been seeing my fair share of mountains. So after a day of yoga, I took myself up Huon Hill to photograph the sunset. It renders me pretty speechless. I had to switch off Fiona Apple and just listen to the sunset sounds around me. And with that comes my yoga segue. Silence indeed is golden. There was no one up there this evening. I was sorrounded by cows, abandoned sheds and a faint whisper of birdsong.
It gives me a bit of clarity and reminds me to take a step back. I gave up my lap swimming so I could just have a lazy night..watch the sunset, have a bath and write. All too often life gets in the way of our creative endeavours. And if we don't take time for them, they do easily slip away. I'm like Little Red Riding Hood wandering trepidatiously through the woods of writing. But like anything, you have to start somewhere.
So in terms of taking a step back, there is a beautiful rule book for success in life. Consistent and dedicated practice, along with a sense of detachment. I, as well as many others, will face many 'big bad wolves' on the path through life. But make like Red Riding Hood and let that wolf go..nothing is as scary in reality as it is in our mind. And no efforts, even those that lead to 'failures' are ever wasted.

Goodbye Griff

Tomorrow marks the anniversary of a good friend's death. Thanks to Cameron Crowe's cathartic 'Elizabethtown' for reminding me of the cleansing qualities of crying. I will always miss him, as friends that are dear to us never leave our heart space; despite their physical departure. Both my friends and this film, however, remind me of the importance of really hugging our dreams rather than simply existing. I loved that both of these people took risks. As I am only beginning my writing career, there will be failures and rejections. That's without even really considering all the behind the scenes stuff. 
One of the ideas from the film that really stood out to me was that of sticking around to withstand the fallout from failures. I remember, fondly now, Griff teasing me about my many job opportunities that I'd be talking to him about. Friends can tell it like it is, as he had a sense of deep respect and love at his core. He came to visit me when I was teaching at a school far from home, sharing a laugh about my stories. I felt so supported and understood, even when he wasn't physically present.
As the sun started to peak out from the rain this evening, I felt his light shining down on me, reminding me to do the things that scare me and to laugh at myself in the process.