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Jul. 14th, 2008 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lly“Sometimes you have the saddest eyes I have ever seen.”- bat, 7/13/08
This weekend was accidentally devoted to Guillermo del Toro: Hellboy II: The Golden Army, El Espinazo del Diablo, and El Fauno del Laberinto. The last has stayed with me since its final image, and I find myself falling in love with del Toro’s girls and women in every film I see – there are moments he makes me hesitate, cringe, suspect that things are going to go a certain direction for them, and then they draw from what seems an endless well of strength.
Five weeks until I leave Idaho, uproot twenty-two (by the time I leave, twenty-three) years of living in the same 300 mile stretch of desert, foregoing cacti and coyotes for a city that sits on the Huron River and dips below freezing in winter. In the last five months, it seems my life has been demolished and rebuilt – and now that the dust from all that has begun to settle, it’s almost time to move again. I leave for Michigan August 19, prepared to spend between three and six years in a place I’ve never once visited with a cat and a man who knows there’s more to magic than exploding hearts and pulling rabbits out of hats.
I’ve been reading a collection of essays written by women on Desire, and have a strong suspicion it’s stirring up some issues of my own. The writing, so far, is consistently gorgeous and interesting; I’d recommend the book to anyone who’s ever wanted anything.
This weekend was accidentally devoted to Guillermo del Toro: Hellboy II: The Golden Army, El Espinazo del Diablo, and El Fauno del Laberinto. The last has stayed with me since its final image, and I find myself falling in love with del Toro’s girls and women in every film I see – there are moments he makes me hesitate, cringe, suspect that things are going to go a certain direction for them, and then they draw from what seems an endless well of strength.
Five weeks until I leave Idaho, uproot twenty-two (by the time I leave, twenty-three) years of living in the same 300 mile stretch of desert, foregoing cacti and coyotes for a city that sits on the Huron River and dips below freezing in winter. In the last five months, it seems my life has been demolished and rebuilt – and now that the dust from all that has begun to settle, it’s almost time to move again. I leave for Michigan August 19, prepared to spend between three and six years in a place I’ve never once visited with a cat and a man who knows there’s more to magic than exploding hearts and pulling rabbits out of hats.
I’ve been reading a collection of essays written by women on Desire, and have a strong suspicion it’s stirring up some issues of my own. The writing, so far, is consistently gorgeous and interesting; I’d recommend the book to anyone who’s ever wanted anything.
