stop

time to slow down and throttle this stream of negativity and pessimism, because all the pain and ugliness in this world will pass right on by without missing a beat. love thyself more. yes, the grass is always greener in someone else's yard but once you shut out all the noise, you will see that there's something worth hoping for.

+listening to: bottom of the barrel by amos lee

» Read the Full Post of " stop "...

the dramatic [part 2]

亚洲影视感想录：

崇洋媚外这种观念对每个中国人来说已经演变成了一种天生的本性。多年的封建统治下，这个被称为东亚病夫的国度的子民们对自己的文化似乎没有什么信心。我也承认，这些年来，一直迷恋着西方的电影文化，对好莱坞的那种潮流气节情有独钟。而面对传统的亚洲影视，反倒是总是有着一种不知名的抵触。

多年后，再次接触到亚洲电影后，我突然意识到自己的肤浅与无知。看了几部杰出的代表作之后我深有感触，认为我对亚洲文化的认知太过于天真。其中，一种文化的一些微妙之处可能需要经过深入的思考才能领会得到。

表面上来说，一部电影的情节必然重要，因为一个好的故事从头到尾都需要情节的贯通才能吸引住观众的注意力。再深入的去领会片刻，你也会觉得它们所陈述的似乎是一种更于细腻的人际关系；从人与人的交往之间，我们可能更能体会到一个文化中的精华所在。

以下我概括了对于几部作品的认知与观点：


《霸王别姬》 (Farewell My Concubine, China)

“渴望”：这部电影也许是这四部中最能体现出传统文化的一部。它所描述的并不是古代的琴棋书画，也更谈不上有什么世代英雄豪杰的主题了。它呈现的是那个战火不休年代中的时代变迁和人们为了生存而不得不做出的各种牺牲。在片中主角的世界里，他的那份纯真的爱情在那个极度保守的年代是肯定不能被主流人群所接受的。他也很了解这一事实，并且努力的隐藏了自己的真心。可是，一个人在极度孤单的时候，避免不了坠入感情的深谷而不能自拔。他那种对于自身向往的自律，既是令人可敬的，又是悲惨的。这可能也就是儒家思想中所说的忍。



《花样年华》 (In the Mood for Love, Hong Kong)

“暧昧”：在传统东方文化中，‘性’此一题可以说向来都是一个受到忌讳的字眼。我认为这与人的欲望之本质并没有什么关联，而在于东西方文化中表达爱情方式的差异。口头上遗留着‘爱’这个字可能对更习惯西方文化的人并不陌生，可是东方人所要表达的那种两个人之间感情的含糊似乎无法用单一的语言来形容。正是因为以语言来表达出这种含蓄的难度，促使了东方人在表达自我感情的时候展现的是那种冷静与沉默。在了解了这一幕后，判断这种表达方式的对错已经毫无意义。因为这就是一种文化中的气息。



《练习曲》 (Island Etude, Taiwan)

“真诚”：‘单纯’常常会被众人滥用为一个贬义词。在现代社会中，人本质的善良已经不再成为大众衡量每个人的质高标准；更多受到大家关住的也许是一些物质上的多少。这部电影中所呈现的场景恰好是与这种主流的形式背道而驰。他所要表达的是在你看破所有红尘，并且把所有物质引诱抛掷身后而透露出来的人与人交往之中的纯朴。以礼待人是一种传统美德；片中讲述的故事的道理，也是告诉我们这一种美德是值得我们流传下去的。



「トウキョウソナタ」 (Tokyo Sonata, Japan)

“坚强”：最能够体现一个民族精神的莫非是人们在日常生活中一些举动和对待事物的心态。在这部日本电影中，你能够体验到社会各界普普通通百姓所感受到的急剧压力。而可能正是因为有着这种无形而巨大的经济压力，使得大家对于保护自己的理念和尊严显得更加执着。在一个家庭受到多方面的创伤后，每个人都以自己顽强的方式试图拯救着各自的人格。可能在有些人看来这不过是一种‘爱面子’的表现和对于虚荣心的遮掩，可是在某种更深层的意识上来说，它体现的是一个民族文化中的灵魂。


+listening to: nothing

» Read the Full Post of " the dramatic [part 2] "...

the dramatic [part 1]

sitting at a desk editing a newsletter on a saturday afternoon isn't exactly my idea of fun, and it escapes me how such a mundane task is able to spawn an entire profession in its wakes. from what i've observed, a majority of writing falls into 3 distinct types:

1. flawless, flowing proses that conform to the 5 c's that everyone should strive to achieve in any written work.
2. horrendous, ill-formulated sentences laden with mistakes of all varieties that beg to be either re-written or discarded altogether.
3. average writing that produces occasional, hard to detect mistakes buried deep within the average confines of a decidedly average effort.

if one were to make use of the hay and needle analogy, type 1 could be compared to a bail of hay neatly rolled up in the most orderly of fashions. type 2 would be akin to a pile of needles with a few sparse strands of straw laid out on top of that mess. and what of type 3? yes, a needle in a haystack. unfortunately most writing you see today are of the type 3 variety.

you must be a bit crazy to want to pick out needles in a haystack for a living so to speak. it is therefore in my opinion that people who call themselves "copy-editors" are either obsessive compulsive type characters, or starving under-employed english majors, or very likely both.

what is the moral of the story you might ask. there is none. i simply got a bit too carried away from the intended topic of discussion for today and have since extended this exposition to a 2 part series covering what i believe are some after thoughts since my little foray into... well we shall see.

lately i've been staying away from popular western social media in favor of ones with decidedly asian flavors. and this in turn has led me on to delve deeper into the world of asian cinema...


+listening to: silent sea by kt tunstall

» Read the Full Post of " the dramatic [part 1] "...

旅行

我们每个人来到这个世上，都是在独自的旅行，即使有人相伴，终究各分东西。

+listening to: nothing

» Read the Full Post of " 旅行 "...

perspectives

+listening to: nothing

» Read the Full Post of " perspectives "...

the weary one

the older i become, the more weary i've grown towards all the things that surround me. it is as if a lot of things have lost their luster, and not a great deal can still pique my interest.

i'm an idealist, a romantic. from the moment i opened my eyes to the world i've always looked upon its subjects with great enthusiasm and curiosity. there was a time when everything seemed so fresh and in the most cliched of manners, "wonderful". i believed in the impossible, and i believed in principles.

somewhere along the line i changed. i became a skeptic, i dreaded fighting for what i believed in because everything seemed like a lost cause. i became a coward and instead chose self-preservation in the form of retreating into a shell.

it is true that perhaps this is what the teachings of confucianism had to say about restraint, that if one practised self-restraint everything would appear clearer before one's eyes. being able to let go may be useful to some, but what of the fighter who's lost his spirit? or of the writer who's lost his muse?

i've only just finished reading capote's breakfast at tiffany's. part of me can't help but feel sorry for holly's series of misfortunes. another part of me fiercely admires her for tirelessly protecting what's hers. how does she do it?

i'm tired. all i can think about is how i've seen better days. now where do i go from here?

+listening to: better days by amos lee

» Read the Full Post of " the weary one "...