Friday, October 30, 2009

Someone's circling. Someone's moving, a little lower than the angels.

{Berries growing against a wall at the first restaurant we had our lunch at on the Europe cruise tour}

'Snow Angels' is a film based on a book by Stewart O'Nan. 
'Snow Angels' and 'The Other Bolelyn Girl' are both currently screening on HBO:)

Snow Angels got me crying and screaming "Asshole, asshole!" at the screen this morning at 8.30.
Just watching the way the woman (Annie - Kate Beckinsale) got killed with 2 bullets to the back of her head by the man (Glenn - Sam Rockwell) she had a four-year-old girl with, who died later.
Here's how it happens:
Glenn drives to her home and breaks her window with his elbow, with a rifle in the other hand.
As Annie arrives home, he waits for her behind the door and pulls her aside.
Then he tells her to take off her shoes, and he washes them for her in a basin of water.
As he does so, she tries to kick him to get away but he holds her and says "It's okay, it's okay." (It's obviously not okay.)
Later Glenn leads Annie out into the snow, her barefeet on ice, and they walk down a white hill.
They stop and this is where he tells her to kneel down.
As Annie kneels and he kisses her head, he says "you're a bit sweaty," emphasizing on how afraid she is to meet her death.
"When you're ready."
Glenn steps back and points the rifle to Annie's head.
She sighs and says "I'm ready".
Two gunshots ring out as the camera is lifted towards the sky, with winter birds flying overhead.
That was when I cupped my face and started bawling in front of the TV.
It's that good.
Later Glenn kills himself with a pistol in his mouth.
Sam Rockwell plays the eeriest character that I've ever seen, apart from the actor who plays the murderer, Gordon Northcott, in the flim 'Changeling'.
Besides tragedy, 'Snow Angels' is also about teenage love, friendship, hope and loss.

I realised how much I love Winter.
Particularly because Christmas is one of the joyous occasions to be celebrated then but also because..
White winter mornings have a sort of dreariness but freshness at the same time from the cold.
It's a bittersweet feeling, to feel alive but dead at the same time during winter.
And it's only in other parts of the world that you feel this way.
It's when you're walking with a stranger along a road lined with bare trees right next to an icy cold river with gulls flying past every now and then.
And every breath you exhale is misty.
Like a reassurance that you're alive.
It's a time when you start to get scared and hope that tragedies don't happen because it's when you're in your most vulnerable state, just as your skin is to the cold surrounding you; you get afraid of getting hurt.
And everything is just so inconvenient physically but yet your spirit gets to soar and you're one with yourself again, set apart from tight schedules and 'to-do' lists.
You don't really get to feel this way in New York, not in cities, no but in small, tranquil towns.
Where murders happen quietly and (I am not embarrassed to say this) where making love is the most magical thing to feel under the warmth of thick blankets.
God totally saw what I typed down. But it's okay right. He's gonna grant that to my husband and I.
Think hot chocolate. With quiet friends early in the morning. Think love in a tiny spectrum of light- tiny, but focused and real.

I'm currently freaking out because there's an Indian contractor grinning at me DIRECTLY across the window on my neighbour's roof and I am in my pyjamas. No it's not revealing, it doesn't fall of my shoulders or anything but OH MY GOODNESS I'M REALLY SCARED. One of my brown Roman blinds are not working. It's really high up, thanks to my brother who wanted some light.


I have the sudden urge to hurl a brick at that man.
You guys have to listen to 'Born' and 'Spark', both by Over The Rhine.

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