MOVIE : SUBMARINE

Don’t let the name deter you—submarines don’t really come into play (then again, sorry to disappoint any submarine enthusiasts out there). It’s a story about a teenage boy, Oliver Tate, who finds “that the only way to get through life is to picture [himself] in an entirely disconnected reality.” (We immediately clicked.) He’s on a quest to impress a girl, but also to unlock his own identity: “I’ve tried flipping coins, listening exclusively to French crooners—I’ve even had a brief hat phase, but nothing stuck.” 

It starts working out with Jordana, an angsty, red-duffle-coat-wearing pyromaniac, but things fall apart with both of their families, and soon the happy relationship turns sour. The film is like a mix between Wes Anderson’s crisp tableaux and precious home footage. It covers a load of scary themes—heartbreak, cancer, depression, bullying, infidelity—but there’s a perfect balance of charm, and it made me want to write letters, swap books, make mixtapes, get a working Polaroid camera, shoot short films, run on a beach, set off fireworks,and send a paper boat down a river.

The past that nothing else matters

Most of my days now are spent re watching movies, writing or lying aimlessly in bed with my little brother. For once I am content, but I’m confused. There are moments where I lose myself in my mind, when everything around me dissolves and I feel like a character in an unfinished story, sitting by idly until someone comes along and tells me where to go next. I feel unsettled, like if I don’t talk to someone soon, and fast, then I may or may not be shackled to my thoughts, which is one of the worst punishments ever. 

Does this happen to other people? I worry that if I tell someone how I feel, they will think there is something wrong with me. Maybe there is. (I hope not.) And I feel like voicing something makes it real, and I don’t want this to be real, especially if other people won’t know what I mean. I want them to know what I mean, to say, “Whoa, that happens to me, too!”

Is it possible to live in a memory? Is it possible to lose yourself there, just let yourself be so consumed by the past that nothing else matters, least of all the tattered shreds of the present? I think that is what has been happening to me. I am straddling the line between what has been and what is. It makes it hard to do what I have been trying to do for what feels like forever: move forward.

When Björk Met Attenborough

Last weekend in the UK, some local TV premiered the documentary “When Björk Met Attenborough" (thankfully also posted on youtube). In other words, one of my favorite minds in the world of music (Björk) united with one of the most lovable broadcasters/naturalists (David Attenborough, who is also arguably a poet). The show focused on the relationship between music and nature, as well as Björk’s quest to make music more intuitive through the use of science and technology, particularly in her latest project, Biophilia. There were cymatic experiments, which involved making music with lightning and gravity, plus previously unreleased behind-the-scenes footage of rehearsals for the Biophilia tour. It unwrapped just one tiny layer of the mystery behind the project, helping me appreciate and understand it even more than I thought I already did—while leaving just enough of the magic secret.