2046: the Intersection of Worlds// The Language of Movies// Mourning a Non Existent Loss

2046: The Intersection of Worlds




The more I watch this movie, the more I appreciate it. In all its abstractness, symbolism and recurring themes of loss, love and memory this stunning cinematographic piece suckers you into this fragile world that is no clearer or linear than our own.
I don't know why but every time I see this scene with Tony Leung and Faye Wong eating soup on Christmas day in a typical, old Hong Kong restaurant (I love the dramatized, high contrast lighting) it makes me want to do the same thing too. It's the ability of the director to create something so visually stunning out of something so common and mundane which really strikes me- it's those moments of the everyday injected with a bit of cinematic drama which really makes me somehow find this similar kind of beauty in my own life.
I know, I don't make sense. I told you, the artist is already insane. The intellect is on the quest for rationality, reason and logic but we'll all end up in the same boat anyway. So, Andrew, I wish you good luck as you deviate towards the dark side where Robyn and I are already sitting in cackling to ourselves.

It's a funny thing how our individual worlds cross and intersect. People- upon entering the studio apartment that my roomie and I have inhabited for the past one and a half years- always notice a fusion of cinematic drama, a strong sense of costume aesthetic, and a denial of reality in the display of top hats, skyscraper crates of shoes, dried roses in wine bottles, mannequin in cravat and beaded gown, pomegranate pattern and a NY Times crossword shower curtains, and a row of hats hanging along our hallway.
We created our own world and we essentially sucker punch you in with visuals and a constant stock of fresh baked desserts. Who else has tiramisu for breakfast? hahaha (we had to finish one to put another one in- no room in our fridge with a huge espresso cheesecake and a chocolate cheesecake dominating the space). Honestly I think the room my roommate and I inhabit is in serious need of an injection of reality. Our yellow lighting mimics candlelight so all the colours in our room are a little off since we get 1% sunlight thus in natural lighting, the colours of our clothes seem too vibrant and are constantly clashing with one another. lol.


When Catherine Zeta-Jones enters the courtroom in this get up, she looked so frickin hot. Too bad there aren't any pictures of her full costume or else I'd make this for myself. XD

Anyway,this shows you how screwed I am when I graduate and have to move out of this self constructed world of mine. I have come to believe that there is little separation between reality and fantasy- for in the denial of reality, you live a world what others call 'fantasy' but what is fantasy if you're constantly in it?


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The Language of Movies

I've often complained about how certain people read too many books for their own good- that their thoughts are only as good as the authors that they've read. You realize that their own ideas are nothing but mere reflections of published works and holds little substance in themselves. Yet, as Robyn pointed out, all that I say is one long movie quote. My roommate and I have created almost a 'sub language' (we used to talk about how we wish we shared a common language besides English so we could talk behind people's back.. hhaha) in which we derive conversation from the context of movies that we both mutually like- to others we sound retarded, but between the two of us, it makes total sense. And they're not even profound, smart movie quotes, but the most retarded random ones ever.
If you can guess where these quotes are from that my roomie and I use- some we almost use every day- I will give you a gold star and you can join my club of insanity:

"Why, Hatsuomomo, you used to smell of jasmine. What's this new perfume? Blowfish?"

"Bye, Buddy, I hope you find your dad"

"I was soooo mad, the flames at the side of my head- the flames- breathing, heaving"

"Yes there are,"

"Wish me luck!" "No, shan't."

"I will not be beaten by a bad man and an American stick insect. Instead, this time, I choose vodka."

"An incubus of viral plague"


A: Memoirs of a Geisha, Elf, Clue, Marie Antoinette, The Devil Wears Prada, Bridget Jones Diary, The Devil Wears Prada



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Mourning a Non Existent Loss
'Wo shang ni.'

I don't know who I am addressing- just sending it out as a wistful message to- as I said, I don't know.

Is it possible to feel loss for something you never had-
is it possible to mourn a wish that was never fully realized-
will they always stay as self-concocted memories that never existed?
Only to be held in a box of crackled gold- opened once in a while to hold something that never was brought into being?

I've always missed but never lost something completely.

As my roomie said, the timing is always off.
Is it worth loving if you're always moving?
She told me, this week, take a bolder step.
Subtle, but quite out of my character.
So I guess, in the end, I have to initiate-
to forge my own opportunities.
Bah.

Christmas is coming. I'm incredibly excited to visit my old home- a city which I regard is above New York.
I always wish for something magical to happen at Christmas- something out of the ordinary. In my narrow mindset, it never does.