Chapter 4 / Day 7

Okay, hello.

You know what I absolutely love? Documentaries. I really do. Yes there are a bunch of baloney ones and lame ones. Some of them are so biased it can make your skin crawl. But when you trip over a good one… man it’s good. And you know what? I don’t care if I’m decades behind. I’m frequently not on top of the hip or secretly underground cool things of the world. For example, I use the word ‘hip’.  But if I really like something, then I really don’t care.

The latest has been Sherman’s March. A documentary by legendary film maker Ross McElwee. He captures the deep deep realness of the deep deep south. So much so, you feel almost hauntingly awkward. As though you’re watching home video’s of a family you’ve never even met.

Other documentaries I’ve watched in the last week include- The September Issue and Unknown White Male. I’m guessing you actually are cool and have already seen both. If I’m wrong, then I still suggest you watch them. Well, if you’re into that kind of thing.

On a news topic completely different- I’ve been struggling lately with there, their and they’re. This is frustrating seeing as I always felt like sort of a Duchess in that area. Not quite a Queen… just someone who noticed when it was used wrong and had an almost auto-habit of using it correctly. Now I’m all fumbles– questioning myself each time. Notice how in my Doco-spill above I said ‘there are‘… that’s because I couldn’t work out if I needed to say their or they’re or what?! I just freaked out.  It’s really rather odd and worrying.

I sometimes wonder how smart Audrey was. You know, like ‘typical’ smart. Not the deep wise kind of smarts… more so like the stereotypical grammar perfect-math genius, who is so logically minded it can drive an illogical person like me insane. I like to hope that she wasn’t ‘smart’. That she used her fingers and toes when counting and that if she was to write a letter on Word today- she’d need to use spell check. Am I horrible to not want Audrey Hepburn to be a genius?

The End.

Love and calculators,

Charlie.

Quote: That’s why I have always admired documentaries, because they open windows that can make you understand much better where you come from, much better than fiction, I think. -Walter Salles

Chapter 4 / Day 6

Let’s just say it!

Do you not love the feeling and character you become when flour is all over your clothes, hands, face and hair?

Do you not hate when you have to blow your nose with paper towels?

Here’s a joke I made up today:

The flour said to the paper towel What did the flour say to the paper towel?

“Hey! Paper towel! Yeah you! Stop ruining everything.”

it’s one of those deep philosophical jokes okay. Okay?!

love charlie.

Chapter 4 / Day 5

A poem

Nichole Nordeman

Every evening sky, an invitation
To trace the patterned stars
And early in July, a celebration
For freedom that is ours

And I notice You
In children’s games
In those who watch them from the shade
Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder
You are summer

And even when the trees have just surrendered
To the harvest time
Forfeiting their leaves in late September
And sending us inside

Still I notice You when change begins
And I am braced for colder winds
I will offer thanks for what has been and was to come
You are autumn

And everything in time and under heaven
Finally falls asleep
Wrapped in blankets white, all creation
Shivers underneath

And still I notice you
When branches crack
And in my breath on frosted glass
Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter
You are winter

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced
Teaching us to breathe
What was frozen through is newly purposed
Turning all things green

So it is with You
And how You make me new
With every season’s change
And so it will be
As You are re-creating me
Summer, autumn, winter, spring

love, charlie

Chapter 4 / Day 4

Howdy,

I’ve been listening to way too much Country Music lately. I say ‘way too much’, but I don’t really know why… can you have way too much country? Yes. Especially when you start writing broken heart songs in your head about bad lovers and lost dogs… or vice versa.

So. Something I stumbled upon that looks pretty good (to me… apparently not to others) is this coming soon movie called…

Country Strong

check out the trailer here

I personally love Gwyneth Paltrow. She seems to get criticized a fair bit. I think some people actually think she’s British instead of American. haha anyway, I can’t help but adore her. For me I divide my silly ‘I don’t know you but you’re famous and I’ve decided I do’, love for her into 2 parts.  There’s the BSOTRA love and the ASOTRA love. Sounds kind of fancy and Latin right? Nah, it just means that I had an admiration before I saw her in the program Spain on the Road Again, and after I saw the program.

The show itself is one of my favourite series on cooking. Watching Gwyneth being completely real (as far as we know) was great. I hate to be one of those weird fans who wish they could be friends with a celebrity because they’re sure they’d hit it off… but man. With Gwyneth I really do. And to top it off she’s married to my High-School dream man.. Chris Martin de Coldplay.

Anyway, if you’re into cooking, Spain, food (who’s not into food?), language, art, documentaries, celebrities or travel- check out Spain On The Road Again. I bought the series on iTunes and continue to watch it now & then… it’s pretty good.

Bueno, back to country. My dads from Kentucky, so I’ve sort’ve grown up with that Bluegrass influence. I know good fried chicken and I’m footwear intolerant. As years have gone by, I’ve slowly come to like Country music more and more… a fact that breaks my Hispanic momma’s heart.

So I’ll leave you with a few of my favourite country songs/singers. I know I’m probably behind in the times… but oh well. I don’t live in the US, so who am I to know the latest in Country..? I’ll just share with ya’ll what I like.

bye for now,

Charlie.

Daily Quote: “Country music is three chords and the truth.”

-Harlan Howard

If That’s Country- Corey Smith

Hold Me- KT Oslin

Need You Now- Lady Antebellum

Jolene- Miss Dolly Parton (my all time favourite)

Chapter 4 / Day 3

Hullow,

I’ve been looking at a lot of Renoir masterpiece’s lately. He’s my favorite of the all-star Artists. I’m no art genius or anything. I don’t know the terms or the expressions or what technique has been used here or there. I just know what I love, appreciate, don’t like and feel nothing for. Here’s my favourite… I feel l relate to this girl.

So that’s what I use when enjoying and viewing art. Some of it makes me feel happy and warm inside. Some of it is too good. I actually start to begin feeling jealous after realizing that I cannot- now or ever do art like that. It’s like when I listen to Gladys Knight or Mariah Carey… sometimes I just have to turn them off and listen to something mediocre. It’s a horrible thing jealousy. I do wish I’d get over it and just enjoy things always. Anyway back to Renoir. When I wind down my love for his work- I realise that it’s truly ridiculous.

You see- I always relate to his captures. His Impressionism? perhaps. Being the appearance-conscious woman I am, I take relief and joy from the appearance of the women from his era. Pale, Shapely and cellulitey. They actually make me feel good about myself. Horrible right? It’s strange to realise it’s only in the last century that being thin is attractive.  Even lately with all of the ad campaigns out about how curvy is attractive blah blah blah… they are still yet to use a women that looks ‘average’. Wow- I can’t believe how bitter I sound about this. I’m surprising myself- because I was/am? a big fan of the Dove Campaign for true beauty. I guess it’s just frustrating to see that these curvy women are still airbrushed. They are either perfectly curvy with big breasts and big hips or they have perfect skin lacking of any type of mole, cellulite or stretch mark. I’d love to see them show some ‘real’ model that had cellulite, small breasts, big thighs, spider veins… the works.

But hold on, would I really? Probably not. That’s the thing. We like fake beauty. It’s like an escape.  After all, why would we want to see what we do see every day in the mirror?

I’m getting way off track- as I always do. My point was supposed to reference Renoir’s women. Their realness. The interesting thing is- people will argue:

“If they had the technology to airbrush in those days- then they would’ve done so as well… everyone wants perfection.”

Um, well- didn’t they have the technology? Couldn’t Renoir of just not captured the cellulite? Couldn’t he have made her hips like 5 sizes smaller? Of course. But time was different. I’m not a historian. I don’t know the mentality of those who lived then. I’ve heard people say that weight represented being well fed. Being well fed meant you were well off… as in- $$$. So perhaps they are more selfish then I’m making out. Perhaps the men didn’t see true beauty… but true money. I’d like to think not. I’d like to think that the woman’s body was appreciated. Large or small. Just appreciated for what it was.

I wonder what a man from the 19th century would think of a fit slender women (abs, calve muscles and all) if she appeared to him. I can’t help but think (besides the initial fear of having a woman from the future appear to him) he would be appalled. Would she not look like a man to him? I just cannot imagine any women before 1920 having visible abdominal muscles. Don’t get me wrong- I don’t think these women look like men. If anything it’s something I’ve quietly wanted- a nice toned stomach. But when I try and put my mind into the mind of Renoir or the like… I can’t help but think they’d be disappointed in the women of today. Not just the physical- but the mental. We are so wrapped up in how we look… that we’re literally killing ourselves.

I could go on and on and deeper and deeper… but I’m not in the mood for a tragic entry about the depressing mind frame of today’s women and the raising rate of eating disorders. It really boils down to all of us being healthy to ourselves and happy with ourselves. So if that makes you large, small, pudgy, fit, cellulitey, tanned… so be it. Just live while you can- and realise there are so many more important things out there, besides what jeans you can squeeze  into. Besides, everyone’s so worried about how they look, they’ve no time to look at you.

All I wanted to do was talk about my love for Renoir. Whoops.

So on that note… I’ll leave you with images that tell 1000 tales each. Oh- and a link to a new blog I stumbled upon when looking for blogs about Nigella Lawson. It’s from a mans point of view, so- very refreshing! No Skinny Women.

- love charlie.

quote: “For women… bras, panties, bathing suits, and other stereotypical gear are visual reminders of a commercial, idealized feminine image that our real and diverse female bodies can’t possibly fit. Without these visual references, each individual woman’s body demands to be accepted on its own terms. We stop being comparatives. We begin to be unique.”

- Gloria Steinem

Chapter 4 / Day 2

Good evening,

Here’s something I have been thinking about. I remember like 3 years ago- when myspace was still acceptable and iPhones were an anticipated product– there was this person.

You see- I hate to think of myself as some sort of internet stalker- but what else could I call it?

It started with this friend of my brothers. She apparently knew someone who knew someone- who could sing really good. She told my brother who told me- to check out this guys myspace. He could indeed sing good… lovely even.

So while listening to him- I notice a grand majority of his songs being devoted to ‘the girl’ — the girl was in his top friends- so I proceeded to look at her myspace. Not a crime right? I just wanted to see this girl who could inspire such beautiful songs. After all, what girl doesn’t want a guy to write songs about her? I thought I could pick up some tips.

After seeing her myspace and realising that there was nothing in-your-face special about her (that sounds harsher than I mean it to sound) … I noticed a comment on her page that included a little poem. It was such a sweet little poem- that I couldn’t help clicking on this new girls myspace.

And there it was. I stumbled upon gold. This girl… this friend of the girlfriend of the singer of the friend of the friend of my brother. She was this awesome poet-storyteller. I became obsessed with checking her page and reading her wonderful stories. They were so odd and wonderful and intelligently/magically written.

Time went on and I didn’t check her page as much. Her stories were becoming less joyful and more bitter… upsetting. I watched as her status changed from married to single. I watched as friends didn’t comment as much… besides the few who asked how she was doing- or the ones inviting her to support groups of some kind.

More time went on and I basically forgot about her. After all- no more stories were being written and I didn’t actually know her. So I just stopped.

Well today I was thinking about her poems. Her stories. Her poemeries as I like to call them. I decided to start searching for her… I had to retrace my steps and go through each myspace (yes ancient myspace!) persons page to try and find her. But I couldn’t. I can’t.

I’ve no idea where she is or how she is- and I really shouldn’t care. But I do.

I wish I had told her how much I loved her writing. How talented she seemed.

I’m making this out as though it’s some tragedy. For all I know she’s happy as daisies and never really was married anyway. Perhaps she’s a famous blogger now or story book writer.

I guess I’ll never know. But at least I feel inspired to write poemeries again.

Thank you phantom story girl. I never even knew your name.

-charlie

Chapter 4 / Day 1

Hello,

Winter is coming and Christmas is in the air.

I’m not one of those loca’s who start prepping for Christmas in September… but I am a wee bit giddy enough to admit that it is indeed in the air.

Goodbye! warm air and summer nights.

Hello! jolly and yuletides and excelsis and all those other strange and wonderful Christmas words.

daily quote: Winter is the time of promise because there is so little to do – or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so.  ~Stanley Crawford

love,

Charlie

Chapter 3 / Day 5

hola,

So I used the Dream Whip sachets. Quite fun really. To make the cream you need- 1 pack of Dream whip, a bit of Vanilla and some cold milk. Plus you need an electric mixer. Something I didn’t have until the other day, when my dad surprised me with one. My dream is to get a Kitchen Aid mixer… but they cost soo much! It’s one of those things you’d be really proud of having… but also a wee bit embarrassed. I imagine it’d be like owning a Lamborghini.

Anyway, so I told you guys I wanted to make something out of Cool Whip (actually Dream Whip) for the dinner party I was having. I decided on something called Eton Mess. Have you heard of it? If you’re not from the UK probably not. However- I’m sure Nigella would’ve done a recipe on it… and she’s known throughout the Western World. Anyway, for those who don’t know- here’s the run down of Eton Mess, a deliciously messy dessert.

ETON MESS

what you need:

• Strawberries (this is the traditional way… but any tropical fruit of your liking would do)
• Broken meringue pieces (you can make a pan of meringue or just buy pre-made… either way you need to break it into pieces)
• Cream (thickened, fresh, whipped…. or dream whipped in my case)

It’s pretty basic from there….

• You just whip the cream until stiff peaks appear.(Electric Mixer recommended)
• Break the meringues and fold gently through the cream mixture.
• Then fold in the strawberries to your liking.
• I will say though- that the liquid from the strawberries tend to drown the cream a little- causing the thickness and peaks to disappear.
• I instead cut the strawberries, sprinkle with sugar- let sit for a while (just so they can develop that delicious syrupy goo). And instead of folding the strawberries in… I just sprinkle on top of each dish. This way the cream is still thick.
• Plus I leave the bowl of left over strawberries on the table- for those who want to add as they go.

Enjoy!

love, Charlie

Chapter 3 / Day 4

skip intro

and that got me thinking- “Hold on, why are we so afraid of them? …and who are they anyway?”

Do you know what I mean? We have so many people (or I do anyway), that I don’t even think of as people. When people say- “Well that’s what they say” or “you know, them…”, I can’t help but think of this jury group of wise animated owls who sit at some sort of court desk in the sky- making up decisions and quotes. It’s an imagery that I’ve had since I was a little kid when I would hear stories about them.

A: “I’m having a lot of difficulty getting to sleep at night…”

B: “Well they say you should try and drink some warm milk before you go to bed.”

A: “Oh they said it did they. Well if they said it then it must be right.”

I suppose they/them is just the group of the best people in whatever area it is you’re talking about. So the conversation above would be referring to the ‘they’ of Doctors and Sleep-Psychologists… either that or an old remedy from Mothers in the 1800′s.

You see, when I look at some top Scientist or Politicians… or Film crew workers or Architects— I can’t help but forget that they are just people. We get so caught up… or perhaps ‘numb’ to the normal going-ons of every day life. Especially when it comes to something requiring a whole team of people getting together.

All the sudden a huge building has been put up where a field used to be.

“Well, they put that up quick.”

No… they were a group of individual construction workers who went to work daily trying to put together something that wasn’t going to fall apart. They had lunch breaks. Got sore backs. And went home at some point- to watch the News and complain about them.

…So I suppose we are all some form of they. I’m the they when people complain about the Y-Generation.

hmm. Let’s get more deep in this and let me try and explain it better. Okay, let’s say a group of politicians. These people make huge decisions, laws, give speeches etc. In my mind they often appear as this blur of human robots. People who will always have the answer and people who will always deal with things.

Or let’s take a huge worldly event… perhaps the world ending. Okay so the world is ending- it’s chaos- people disappearing… disasters popping up here and there- and so on. Yet we still think of ‘them’ sorting it out. We would still expect the 7:00 NEWS to be delivered. For Policeman and Fireman to be on the job. For World Leaders to have all the answers. But we forget. They are not them. Do you know what I mean when I say ‘them’? I mean that blur of human robots I was trying to explain. An invisible collective of perfect species. Like a type of human that really isn’t human at all and has all the answers.

Unfortunately- there is no ‘them’ (or perhaps fortunately?). Them or they or whatever– were all babies at some point. Imagine a famous figure in history or some super intense person. Okay, Saddam Hussein for example- was A BABY. He wasn’t born a 40-year-old killer. He got tired, had nightmares and probably even had cravings for certain foods. He at some point was just a child. A child! Okay, let’s look at the Queen of England- she must get dressed everyday, wash her hair and probably gets boogers in her nose… how does she get them out?! Who knows- but she does! Our Politicians, Builders, Force workers and even Telemarketers… are all just people. Individual people. Think of the person who does a voice-over for a commercial. Their voice sounds like they couldn’t have a problem in the world. But they still go home at the end of the day- probably worrying about the rent …or at least about what to have for dinner. Or here’s one- Creditors. Is that what they’re called? The people who call you up to tell you that you owe money on your credit card. They sound ever so scary on the machine- but they’re just regular people… who probably owe money themselves!

I guess my whole point of this is that we have to wake up. We can’t depend on ‘them’ to always come through. Because we are ‘them’ and they are us. Still built with some sort of fear.

Now that’s something that we all have in us. Fear. For different things of course- but it’s there. Think about that the next time you see someone who seems invincible. They are scared of something. It could be death. It could be public speaking. Or it could be not making their father proud. Who knows. But we all have it. And just as I don’t expect the world to depend on me in a crisis… I also have no expectation of the world.

Because after all, every one of us are food craving, booger nosed, tired people.

Anyway- this post was supposed to be just a wee little thing. Just a thought that I was thinking that I wanted to quickly right down. So quickly- that I didn’t even want to say hi to you all. In fact- I think I started mid sentence just so I could get to the point quicker. Alas I still managed to ramble on. Well anyway dear www. That was all. Hopefully it will help your mind-frame a little. Realising how simple and yet intricate we all are.

On something completely irrelevant: I’m having people over for dinner tonight- and I want to make something with Cool-Whip. 70% of American dessert recipes I find seems to contain it.. and my Dad just came back from the U.S. with sachet packets of the stuff. So here goes nothing!

quote for the day (and a perfect one for this post I believe!): There must be something wrong with those people who think Audrey Hepburn doesn’t perspire, hiccup or sneeze, because they know that’s not true. In fact, I hiccup more than most.
– Audrey Hepburn

Talk to you all later hopefully =)

with love and boogers,

Charlie

p.s. I in now way mean to offend the public figures I spoke of. Hopefully it’s taken as a compliment to their normalcy.

Chapter 3 / Day 3

Hi wonderful people,

I came across this video that I thought was cool. The first time I watched it… I was like- “hmm, that’s cool… I guess” …then I watched it again for some reason- and liked it a bit more. Then I watched it again to show someone else. Then I noticed that every time I watched it- I noticed something new. So finally I decided to Google the words/lyrics and read through them. It seemed to be one of those things that a big part of myself wanted to judge… and finally I just had to tell myself to shut up and come to the realisation that I kind of loved the whole thing.

In other news… I’ve been having this overwhelming desire to go to Massachusetts. About 2 days ago, I discovered how to pronounce the name of the State. Yep- it was something I could never do… I always said something sounding like Massachshus… or worse! -Massachushits. But the other day when actually reading how it was spelt and then saying it outloud.. wow, I was so excited. Massachusetts. MASSACHUSETTS. I CAN SAY IT!! WOO! MASS. A. CHU. SETTS.

You know how people from Hawai’i or Samoa say the name of their homeland with this really great accent and emphasis on weird letters? Ha-wy-ee. Sah-mowa. Something that only they can seem to do. Well I used to think that about Massachusetts… like only people from MA could say it. Even people from other American states just didn’t sound the same. But wow. Now I’m converted.

And now I must go and visit. I don’t even really know what’s there. The Red Sox right? What else? Please do tell, if you’ve been there. Give me some advice. Is it a good place to live? What’s the weather, people, transport and vibe like? Obviously I could probably find this info through Google or the likes… but how much better to get it from real Massachusans (is that what they’re called?)?

Tell me everything!!

Daily Quote: “A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” -Winston Churchill

love Charlie

p.s. here’s the words to that video if you’re interested:

To be a survivor in this Amazing Race

with the need for speed you need God’s Grace

and if your desperate like housewives watching days of our lives,

you can’t cope without hope and that is not on a soap.

If your looking to Oprah or Dr. Phil you can shop non-stop or pop a pill,

but the void won’t fill and the pain won’t kill until you love the one that hung on a hill.

Kicking back in your lazy boy easy chair watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,

nah your not gonna find it there.

No American Idol or Council Tribal has the final answer that will satisfy ya.

C. S. I. ain’t got a clue. S.V.U. Don’t know what to do

Not the E R or those seen on a CD TV DVD or MP3 can save you and me.

CNN has got no Good News here’s a headline you must choose.

It’s not a simple life Paris Hilton, it’s treading on thin ice living in sin.

You can be an apprentice for Donald Trump or eat Fear Factor fast food from a dump

you can be a heavy hitter or wheel of fortune winner or a Fox news no spin spinner or flat sinner

but you better check this life that your livin’ and make sure your sins are forgiven.

I bet cha 50 cent Elvis done come and went,

and eventually every Black-eyed-pea, Gwen Stefani, P-Diddy and Britney.

Every wanna-be on M T V with their Icy Bling, every Dixie Chick that Sings,

they all gonna see the king of kings.

I don’t care if your J-Lo, Leno or Bono.

One thing you gotta know.

Some day your gonna die, Bro.

Then Where are you gonna go?

Hey, I’m not talking some punk junk that is irrelevant.

Like your Grandma’s church from way back when.

It’s not some preacher feature on T B N. that you need to be liking or listening.

The real superstar is Jesus Christ. He’s the way, the truth and the life.

One day he’s gonna split the sky. He is the brightest light and the highest high

and so what I came to say and what I’m telling you is don’t buy that stupid stuff they be selling ya

it’s all designed to fill your head and waste your space until your dead

…here’s the bottom line in my rhyme.

Give your life to God while there is still time.