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