Smile me a River

Just saw The Kings Speech.

It made me smile so broadly I cried.

Not because of the storyline, the music or whatever,

but because he got it right.

Colin Firth got it right.

So right that it almost feels like it was the part he was made for.

As an actress, and especially as somebody who loves film as much as sunshine and the air that I breathe, seeing somebody perform their perfect part is one of the rare, but true and utter joys in life.

(and I don't care if you don't agree in regards to this character, it's enough for me to know that it did have that effect on me)

It's the reason why I see myriads of movies and go to masses of plays; to have the honor to be present some day when somebody has their moment of perfect performance.

Perfection isn't in well articulated, seamlessly performed characters, it's in character-performances that have so much soul it just hurts to watch them. Wether the character is a lovable king or a distraught teenager, or a violent murderer.

Somehow the actor manages to enter that zone within themselves that permits them to give a character so much life it touches the audience in their core.

Even if it's an audience of one.

(as was my case)

On the way home I savored this moment.

Tasted it like I was a kid tasting a piece of candy for the first time.

And it made me intensely happy.

I should be so lucky to one day be able to create even a snippet of that moment for somebody, through something I do. It would be the greatest honor ever.

As it is the greatest honor to experience such a moment as a viewer.

For some reason it made me think back at when I was a kid,

and saw River Phoenix perform for the first time.

His acting was so honest and real that it had huge impact on me.

Of course I couldn't really put my finger on it, back then, I just knew that unlike other girls I didn't have the hots for him (of course I did think he was hot, and cute, duh!) it was more than that...I was in awe because of how he did what he did. Not because he had a cute face.

I longed to be able to perform like he could...

Needless to say, when he died it was one of the saddest moments in my life, it felt like loosing a brother. Or like I call it; my big-brother-actor.

That's kinda the feeling I just got from Colin Firth:

he might not have made the best choices in movies since playing the infamous Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, and he might not be the likeliest of candidates to evoke such thoughts and especially such a moment, but I was so incredible proud of him when I saw him in this movie, oh boy, did I feel proud and overjoyed and....well...I will not throw a cacophony of words your way to describe what I felt...

Happy.

I was just very very happy.

So, I bow deeply towards River and Colin and the other wonderful actors that I've had the immense pleasure to feel inspired and overjoyed by, and thank you.

From the bottom of my heart.

And I don't care if I sound like a soppy sap whilst doing it.

Beauty is in the heart of the nutty lover, innit?

(^_-)

New Year

“Another fresh new year is here . . .
Another year to live!
To banish worry, doubt, and fear,
To love and laugh and give!

...This bright new year is given me
To live each day with zest . . .
To daily grow and try to be
My highest and my best!

I have the opportunity
Once more to right some wrongs,
To pray for peace, to plant a tree,
And sing more joyful songs!”

-William Arthur Ward-

Can you the can can?

So...I thought I'd blog you a true story, because this is a story that comes to mind often, and I feel is kinda crucial for peeps to know about...

Jup, it's THAT kinda story....

Here goes:

A few years ago, my cousin and a group of friends organized a cozy beach barbecue.

Everybody brought tons of food, there was music, and even a campfire.

They had a total blast for a few hours...then...things started to go wrong....

People started to feel really really sick...so sick, that after a few attempts at helping the sick to feel better, the party moved to the emergency ward of the nearest hospital.

However....the doctors had great difficulty figuring out what made them feel so sick.

So, they instructed the ones that weren't sick, to bring in as much of the food that they had consumed at the barbecue, in order for them to check it for germs and whatever.

This they did.

The meat, the salads, the bread, everything was checked.

And everything turned out fine.

The doctors were baffled.

What had made all those people super sick?

Why didn't any of the medicine they tried on them work?

And why the hell were they getting sicker by the minute?

Then, a nurse suggested to look at the packed goods like the beer, wine, soda & etc.

Everything was checked, and again....nothing...

As a last desperate attempt they decided to take samples of the outside of the packing materials.

Maybe there had been a problem there?

There was a problem alright.

What they found was;

that a couple of six-packs of beer-cans had rat urine residue on them...

Apparently they had been stored in a space where rats had roamed free, and used the cans as their little playground, and then those cans were shelved in the store to sell them to the public.

The urine had dried up, but the bacteria and viruses that were in that rat pee were still very much alive.

So when people drank from the beer-can, they ingested the dried up pee, together with all the nasties that had been in it...

Thankfully, however; knowing what had caused all those people to feel sick, they quickly provided them with a cure. A cure that would take weeks to fully take effect. But at least it was manageable.

Morale of the story: ALWAYS clean your cans of soda or beer before you drink from them.

Cuz, you never know who partied on top of them the night before....

(^_-)

Moments....

Some moments in life make such an impression that they stick with you.

Some are good like marriages, or births, or your first kiss...

But some are in your minds eye thanks to their impact and shock value.

September 9th 2001 is such a moment.

Following my buddy @davesusetty's blog on the matter, I thought I'd shed some light on how I lived that day, and the bizarre turn of events that went with it.

***

A group of 7 actors and a director gathered that day, to watch disaster movies.

I was one of the actors.

We were preparing a play based on a book that had been written in the '60's by economists; in which they predicted the future in terms of economy, population growth, environmental issues and...humanitarian disasters.

The idea was to pair the findings of the book, with disaster movies; analyze them, mirror the finds with reality and create a multi-medial play with our findings.

For weeks we had been reading and painstakingly analyzing the meaty material presented in the book, having heated discussions about it, and slowly but steadily coming to the shocking realization that the predictions had actually been correct...for the most part.

That week, however, we had finally started to watch us some juicy movies.

A welcome relief after all the economics.

We saw '80's movies about plane crashes, earthquakes and even "Volcano".

Again, we discussed them fanatically.

Were these realistic scenario's in any way?

That day, we gathered in a small and dirty attic room of the theatre where we were to perform the play, crashed down on the old battered sofa's and chairs that stood there, and watched yet another couple of movies.

They were "Airport" and "Earthquake in New York".

We laughed through the movies, watching scenes that looked very unrealistic to us.

And then we discussed whether this was a plausible scenario.

The group consensus was that people really don't react that way during a major crisis, that it was exaggerated for dramatic emphasis, and that really all the movies we'd seen so far were funny because of this. Plus; what were the odds in NY? It isn't constructed on any fault-line, is it?

Then we walked to the station, on our way to the city where our school was located, chatting animatedly about the movies we just saw, and carrying bags full of papers filled with notes, and of course the big economic predictions book.

But the streets were strangely quiet...

Then, one of my fellow actors got a text message.

It said that a plane had crashed into the Twin Towers in New York.

At first we thought it was a joke: hadn't we just seen the Twin Towers collapse in the movie we just saw? And didn't we see dramatics on a '70's passenger plane?

Didn't people know we were working on this project?

Nah, this was definitely a joke.

"Ha ha, lame joke", she texted back.

And then we walked past a shop, where everybody was staring at a T.V. screen....

On the screen we saw how real this message had been.

In disbelief we stared at the T.V.

How could this be?

Had there been an accident?

It HAD to have been an accident, right?

Then a second plane crashed into the 2nd tower.

Not an accident then.

We looked at each other in shock.

Reality was mirroring fiction, and it wasn't fun.

At all.

Everybody was quietly staring at the screen.

Gasps filled the air.

Tears flowed down cheeks.

And when the towers fell...."Earthquake in New York" suddenly became reality....

A few days later the project was cancelled by the director. He felt too emotional to continue with it.

***

Years later, on the 11th of March 2004, my cousin was supposed to take the early morning commute train to her work, in Madrid.

That day, however, she overslept...

Some of her friends didn't...

And ended up with severe injuries;

Terrorists had simultaneously exploded 10 bombs on 4 busy commuter trains near Madrid, between 7:36 and 7:40 A.M that morning.

191 people died, and 1.858 were injured....

Images of September 9th kept coming back to me, as I watched the images on the news in horror.

The phone lines to and from Madrid went dead for a few hours, as people desperately tried to call their loved ones.

Nobody knew if my cousin had survived the attack, we all feared the worst.

Then, around midday, we finally had word: she hadn't been on the train.

I've never felt so relieved in my life.

Moments that stick with you, forever....

Trinket#1

Once tried licking the tears off the world's face.

They tasted salty. And confused.

So I made crazy faces, to cheer it up.

And borrowed some of the sun's rays.

Now we're playing Parcheesi in somebody's garden...and it's smiling cuz the pieces look like M&M's....

I've posted blogs before about seeing the beauty of small things and I'm a firm spokesperson for seeing the positive.

But even tho I myself think this way, and choose to share my views in the hope to make others see things in a brighter way, it really rocked my world to hear Henry Rollins verbalize it so well when I saw him perform his spoken word show recently.

I think it particularly touched me because it was amidst of vast mounts of humor, fantastically described imagery and logic.

It was like coming home for some reason.

Especially when I saw how the audience *got* what he was saying.

A small victory for those who believe in change towards the better, for those who see how all humans are equal and that treating people like shit doesn't solve anything.

For those who don't believe in hatred based on race, religion or sexual attraction.

In a world that keeps getting harder and harder and in which people's prejudices are flaring up like the forest fires that are currently attacking the vicinity of Los Angeles, it's good to hear people voice the complete opposite.

Especially if they're people that are in the public eye and that have the power to reach many.

Borders are a figment of our communal imagination.

Which is why I rejoice over the fact that the borders in Europe are slowly but steadily fading.

We live in the world, people.

And so, as world citizens we should accept each other for what we are and for who we are.

I'm sick and tired of racism and prejudices against immigrants.

People seem to forget that most nations are actually built thanks to immigrants, as they all do the jobs that the general population thinks they're too good for.

There's no "Us" and "Them", there's just "Us".

And the sooner everybody realizes this, the sooner we can shove wars under the carpet and coexist. Love, after all, is a far more pleasant feeling than hate. And far more constructive at that.

So yeah.

When somebody climbs up on stage and amidst of hilarious stories about embarrassing moments, strange encounters and other crazy situations, takes the time to share similar views with the world, and seeks to enlighten it, then that makes my heart skip a beat.

Why?

Because speaking out is key.

So, here I am saying to you: please please don't just listen to what you get spoon-fed by your local media, it's just a tiny selection of what's really happening out in the world. Open your eyes to what's going on around you. And to who is standing next to you. Learn. And most importantly, don't let other people's fears brainwash you into thinking the world is evil and out to get you.

Because fear never built anything.

Hope did.

Who's that girl?

So, the best thing about working in a place where people frequent is that weird and crazy people are abundant. Something very inspiring for someone like me who enjoys imitating and performing. Real life can be way more absurd than concocted stories.

Altho not all real life events are absurd in a ; "OMG-I'm-talking-to-a-creepy-guy-who's-standing-next-to-me-at-a-cocktail-party-but-he-calls--my-house-and-he's-on-the-other-end-too!" kinda way. Or any other weird thing you can imagine, or David Lynch can imagine...

But they can be quirky in a way that makes you think: ..."mmkayy...ehh...is this for real?"

Here's what happened to me the other day:

I'm sitting behind my desk, working on some email to order stuff from Japan, when somebody comes in...

I hear the sound of soft shuffling feet and when I look up I see an old man who looks like the way an old man would be depicted in a cartoon:

skinny, crooked, a small tuft of white hair on his primarily bald head, no teeth, and a suit that has seen better days.

He shuffles towards me in what seems like slow-motion with extra vibrato, and when he's standing in front of my desk he slowly raises a trembling hand and points in the general direction of a photograph that hangs in the window.

"Who's that woman?"

Me: "What woman do you mean, sir?"

Him: "That woman, on the painting (for some reason he doesn't understand photography?) in the window."

Me: "Oh, I don't know. I'm sorry. It's a model, you see."

Him: "Maybe you don't understand. That woman in the window display."

Me: "Yes. exactly. She's a model the artist photographed. I have no idea who she is."

He looks at me with the most disappointed look I've ever seen on anybody's face.

The little tuft of white hair slightly flapping in the breeze created by the airconditioner.

Little flecks of dandruff softly blowing off his tweet shoulders.

Then he seems to come to a decision, and with shaky hands he goes through his pockets.

He takes out a small digital camera and blip blip blips through the photographs, with a tremendously serious face.

He then holds the camera in front of me and shows me a close-up of a naked model that features on the very photograph I knew we were talking about.

(the ONLY naked girl in a picture full of people)

With trembling index finger he points at the little screen and says;

"This. This. This girl. Who is this girl??"

His voice is full of determination.

Me: "Yes, that girl. Exactly. I'm very sorry, but I really don't know. She's a model."

He looks at me, his facial expression changes to total defeat.

Him: "O"

"I'm very sorry. If you want I can give you the name of the artist, so you c...", I attempt.

He shakes his head with a sad face.

Then he turns around slowly, shuffles towards the door, stops, looks at the screen of his camera one more time with a crestfallen expression, blips it off and puts it in his jacket pocket before walking out....in the direction of the photograph....