I have always been a skinny whiteboy. But there have been times when I've wanted to be something else (I've never minded the boy part; it's the skinny whiteness that I've had issues with). Over the years, I've tried at various times to be less skinny and less white. This is sounding ridiculous to me as I write it down -- good; it should sound ridiculous. I composed the following haiku about it:
Does the Walking Stick
Envy the Bumble Bee?
Utter foolishness
I watched a movie last night called The Painted Veil (starring Edward Norton and Naomi Watts). It's the story of a married couple who do not love each other. It's the story of them learning to love each other. My favorite scene is one in which the couple are sitting and talking together for the first time in months: they discuss the incongruities of their relationship; she tells him how she loves games like tennis and golf -- "and I like men who play games." She laughs about the way he tried to interest her in the art and canals of Venice that were so moving to him. Then he says, "I suppose you're right. It was silly of us to look for qualities in each other which we never had." This sounds tragic, but it's actually the turning point in the film. Once they are finally able to see one another for who they truly are, they are able to begin to fall in love with a real person, rather than being frustrated by the illusions of an imagined lover who never materializes.
There is great liberation in learning to see the world as it truly is.
Does the Walking Stick
Envy the Bumble Bee?
Utter foolishness
I watched a movie last night called The Painted Veil (starring Edward Norton and Naomi Watts). It's the story of a married couple who do not love each other. It's the story of them learning to love each other. My favorite scene is one in which the couple are sitting and talking together for the first time in months: they discuss the incongruities of their relationship; she tells him how she loves games like tennis and golf -- "and I like men who play games." She laughs about the way he tried to interest her in the art and canals of Venice that were so moving to him. Then he says, "I suppose you're right. It was silly of us to look for qualities in each other which we never had." This sounds tragic, but it's actually the turning point in the film. Once they are finally able to see one another for who they truly are, they are able to begin to fall in love with a real person, rather than being frustrated by the illusions of an imagined lover who never materializes.
There is great liberation in learning to see the world as it truly is.
