Why

 I never have a problem with crying, or so I thought.

A film such as Touch had me dirty crying in my cinema seat only a day or so ago and I cry and talk about crying enough but only yesterday I realised it is a solitary thing which is never shared with anyone but Nu and Mike, and even then rarely.

My own therapy is the putting to bed of my grief of my separation and my therapist has been as ruthless as I wanted and needed her to keep to my brief.

I was exhausted yesterday, totally exhausted.

We talked about invasive and repetitive thoughts .

And she asked me about being busy, but this next observation floored me when she said quietly

“How can you move on with a head too full of whys?”

I looked at her and she mimed an action which beautifully summed her her comment

she put a hand out on each side of her head and whirled them around, 

And I cried for the first time of being understood and validated .

I will leave you with the lisping choir and one piece I remember from the zarzuela concert 

No news

 Summer is back, albeit for a few days, and the garden is bright and the sky an azure blue. 

Malinka Le Vay walked past the cottage,with her dogs, and looked as warm as the sky.

The horses in the livery stables bow their heads together in the glow of  midday and the bullocks on the field at the end of the lane sit and chew in the grass with their doe eyes closed.

Apart from the traffic on the main road, the village looks quiet, delicious smells come from The Crown’s kitchen when I drive up to get my McDonalds coffee 

I drove to the Storyhouse and read some notes from college. Ten minutes turned into two hours 

Now I’m home , walking the dogs and cleaning up kitten detritus 

I’ve bought a new kitchen clock. It should be delivered today

Lee Millar

It’s been a nice weekend of film watching ….from the cheese filled The Wedding Planner, to the worthy The Critic and the toweringly good Touch , I’ve seen some quality films, and so it’s lovely to end the weekend on another high with Lee 

The story of Lee Millar’s War Time photography career makes for an interesting watch. Slightly too old for the role ( my sister pointed that out) ,Kate Winslet still shines as the damaged former model who spent a frivolous early adult life in the South of France with her beautiful French artist friends, totally unaware of the horrors to come. With the support Vogue editor Audrey Withers ( the striking Andrea Riseborough in academy award mode ) Lee chronicles the liberation of Paris and the fall of Germany including the liberation of the death camps But does so at a heavy cost, of lifelong untreated PTSD , treated only by herself through alcohol and tablets. 

There are some beautifully observed scenes, especially when Lee meets up with her French model friends in Paris after the liberation.  . The crushed Solange ( Marion Cottilard) and artist Nusch (Noemi Merlant) are comforted by Lee and you can almost feel the real warmth of Kate Winslett gushing forth on screen. It’s an amazingly moving moment.

The audience should ignore some clumsy writing though ( the fact that Lee was sexually abused as a child  is thrown in a rather arbitrary and heavy handed way) as the visuals are strong enough to carry the film on their own.

I will leave you with the first official photo of Roger and Weaver, taken yesterday morning in the living room. Bun remains shy and careful 

Blue Angel

 

I watched Last Night Of The Proms last night

American Soprano Angel Blue looked remarkably moved by the roars of the crowd 

I liked that.

Auld Lang Syne upset me a little . I couldn’t remember the time I sung it let along link arms with another person whilst doing so. 

It’s a song best sung drunk

Another thing for my bucket list,to do.

It’s a grey blustery day here and the village feels as though it’s hunkering down for winter. Affable Despot Jason will be hibernating until April 

Islwyn’s autumn bonfire on the pony field will come and go with only the kittens to observe him. They miss nothing from the bedroom windows and he likes to fire it mid afternoon.

The cottage is quiet and my mindfullness has changed into a doze on the couch. The Welsh are sharing the reading chair in the kitchen , the twins sat carefully on the landing their front feet folded beneath them.

This afternoon I intend to watch The Wedding Planner with a family sized strawberry trifle

Touch

Iceland just before lockdown sees an elderly widower Kristofer (Egill Olafsson) receiving bad news from his doctor, who suggests helpfully that he puts his life in order rather quickly. Haunted by an old memory. He flys from Iceland to London in search of an old Japanese restaurant. 

A flash back occurs

In 1960s London young Kristòfer (Palmi Kormakur) is a quiet, easygoing Icelandic student looking for a job. He starts pot washing then cooking for the owner of a Japanese restaurant Takahashi-San  ( Masahiro Motoki) and starts a secret passionate  affair with his daughter Miko ( Kôki)

During their courtship Miko admits to Kristòfer that she and her father are Hibakusha, survivors of the Hiroshima bombing ,and are now people viewed by some, as damaged and unclean. Soon after father and daughter disappear from any contact.

During lockdown an aged Kristòfer now flies from London to Hiroshima in search of his former love,

What will he find ? Will the pair be reunited and why was Miko forced to give up her first love in the first place?

Touch is a beautiful, beautiful love story , with Olafsson literally breaking your heart as the benign, big hearted Icelander battling with a loss of memory and a lifetime of grief.

You will be dirty crying at the end, and will remember this very different love story for a very long time after first seeing it

The Critic

 

The one thing about Ian McKellen is that he has balls

Cast as a vicious, nasty Queen, a critic for a failing 1930s newspaper, the camera lingers over his calculating scheming face in almost nauseating close up. We see him naked in the bath and at other times indulging in rough trade sex at the local park.

He’s not a nice character but McKellen seems to revel in the role.

Playing Jimmy Erskine, McKellen is a powerful man, used to the luxuries of his position. But when the Vicount Brooke, son of the previous owner takes over the business (an underplaying Mark Strong) Erskine is taken to task and told to be nicer to the actors he demolishes in print. 

Brooke is obsessed with actress Nina Land ( Gemma Arterton) as is his son in law (Ben Barnes) who is unhappily married to cold fish Cora (Romola Garai) and all of these characters come together rather disastrously when Erskine blackmails Land to help him keep his job.

You can tell that the main jist of the plot comes from a complicated and successful book as you are left wanting more from the characters. 

The man of character ( Strong) his cold antisemitic  daughter ( a cracking turn by Garai) and the wonderful Lesley Manville ( as Land’s mentally more robust mother) all sadly have little to do as we concentrate on McKellen and his odious manipulations. 

The hidden gay lifestyles, a sudden appearance of the facist black shirts ( who Erskine valiantly challenges in the street. Are touched upon but would have been more interesting explored as would the other characters but McKellen plays such a monster so well, your eyes never leave his beady eyes and smiling face.

Soup

 This made me laugh , in a way I like; a big belly laugh which erupts,

Unstoppable.

I’m off for a few days now, and have just been figuring out what to do. I’m going to see Lee with Kate Winslett this afternoon and The Critic this evening. (With my sister) . I’ve also booked to see an Icelandic movie Touch tomorrow. Not many friends are around that the moment, Chic Eleanor has moved out of the village and is away, ( we’ve arranged coffee soon) and Dave ( aka Gorgeous Dave) has effectively ghosted me, which I’m sad about. I can understand the ghosting of acquaintance / friends , (we all go through phases of meeting new people who don’t quite fit into your psychi) but for a friend of ten years or so to suddenly vanish from the radar without some sort of narrative is a shame. 

I miss him. 

Bit and Bats

 Everything feels changed somewhat. 

I’m back in university with less academic essays to worry about but with an increased client number to deal with. We have a mental health component too which should be easier for me given I’m still registered as a psychiatric nurse.

And so Tuesdays continue with 8.30 to 2.30 in lectures followed by my personal counselling at 4pm and Choir at 6 pm. Thursdays I’m now seeing clients from 10 am and 4pm. Supervision is usually on alternate Wednesday mornings. My two hospice shifts work around all this where possible. 

Autumn term brings autumn with it and the villagers are planning the apple festival weekend . 

Soon it will be Christmas 

I’m tired just writing all this. 

Off to bed shortly , but I want to read yesterday’s 9/11 comments first.

Typically much more interesting than anything I could write .

Weaver is still with us, by the way . Just to let you know