feet, heart, eyes, memory

It has been some time.  It has been a time.  Sometimes too much is happening, sometimes whatever is happening is difficult to express.  It is June, and 2013 has seemed long despite the fast pace of life now.

In January, I went to Maine to visit my parents in their new home.  We had to take my sister to Newark to leave for her semester abroad, and on the drive back we stopped in Connecticut, to drive through the little town where I spent the first nine years of my life.  I have not been back since then, and though much has changed, I felt as though I was looking through my old eyes, my young eyes.  In my head I could hear the music that used to play in the tape deck of our old Honda as my mom would drive me to the library or dance class or school (Paul Simon's "Graceland," Steve Winwood, Bruce Hornsby, Eric Clapton).  While they have added on to and remodeled parts of my old elementary school, looking at the playground, and the walk between the science building and the main building, flooded my mind with memories of simple childhood games and adventures.  And when we stopped to see our old house, the current dwellers were home and invited us inside.  Stepping through that doorway was incredibly emotional, and I was hit with the realization that my feet had walked on this floor before.  My feet, my body, had been there, a little version of me, of who I am, of my essence, was inside that house with me.  And that happens everywhere, everywhere we go that isn't brand new (to us) has known us, holds a part of our souls, and is marked with the tread of our feet.  Little versions of my brother, sister and I had run around that house (it seemed so big to us then), and younger versions of my parents loved us and taught us how to be good humans (we are trying to keep doing that, I do think).  It was the location of birthday parties and Christmas miracles and bad dreams.  We cried, we laughed, we lived and breathed in that place, and though we have grown up and moved elsewhere, I had the sense that that house still remembered me, still remembered our time there.  It may sound silly, but I do think that places remember us, or perhaps it is we who recognize ourselves in the air, in time and space.  Nothing is ever lost, if we hold it close in our hearts and memories.  The past was at one time the present, and this present moment will someday be a past we remember, it disappears second by second, but each moment exists and shapes us.  I get overwhelmed when I think of all this - that each moment holds potential and each decision could be life altering.  I am in love with life and it causes me such anxiety all at once.

I went back to New York City for a wedding last weekend.  I flew there exactly one year to the day that I flew away, which was interesting, and, if I choose to look at it this way, symbolic.  Perhaps it is everything else that occupies my brain right now, but as soon as the plane touched down, I was ready to leave.  I was happy to be there to celebrate my dear friend Kathy's happy day, and to see some people whom I miss and love greatly.  But I had an almost immediate reaction of relief that I only had to be there for two days.  "Belonging" is a difficult subject, a difficult word, a feeling I have searched for, and will search for indefinitely.  I do not know exactly where I belong, but I am able to see where I do not belong, and to have that feeling about New York surprised me.  I had an overwhelming feeling of not wanting to live there, of being glad that I left, and feeling confident in my decision to move.  It is odd, because I rarely feel confident about choices, so this also surprised me, and to be honest, worried me, and I probably lost a bit of confidence from that concern.  Places once called home in that city are still there, of course, but they aren't my home anymore.  Yet it is like I said before, my feet have walked and my body and mind have existed in these places, so a part of me is there, even though my current self is somewhere else.  And my eyes see the same things in different ways - much the opposite to the feelings I had about my little home in Connecticut.  Is it because this place was a part of my adult life and the other was a part of my childhood?  Perhaps it is more difficult to be nostalgic when the experiences are still so raw and influential to our current lives.

As we grow up (which I do not think we ever finish doing), if we are open to it, we can learn new things about ourselves.  We can grow and change while still being the essence of who we have always been, and those changes can be subtle and vast, and everywhere in between.    The difficulty lies in the acceptance of these changes, especially if they surprise you, shock you, or challenge you.  There are some things about myself I always assumed were one way, and I fought against the change.  I was embarrassed by some of the new thoughts, some of the new desires and hopes.  I was afraid.  I am still afraid of many things, but there are parts of me that I recognize now and am choosing to try to celebrate and treasure, to cultivate and honor.  My yearning for simplicity, in comparison to the ideas I used to have about my life and who I am, just requires different methods and different goals.  My dreams are still the same - altered, but the same.  I have heard that our twenties are the time to learn who we are, to discover ourselves, to be open to whatever comes our way.  Seems accurate.

I take random blog notes all the time, and when I look at some of them now, I do not feel the need to write about them because my thoughts have changed or something else has taken priority.  These I will add, however:

You have to want to better yourself, want to pull yourself out of the fog and the sadness.  Of course you know there are many things you can do to pull yourself out, but what happens when you don't want to?  It can be preferable to wallow and reflect, unable to push for improvement because you are afraid that improvement leads to the acceptance of something that you do not want to accept.

We spend so much of our lives trying to figure out who we are, yet as we try to figure it out we are living who we are each moment, regardless of whether we've figured it out or not.  We think so hard about what we are supposed to do, and who we are supposed to be, but we are who we are no matter what.  If we run and hide and fear the unknown we might as well not do anything.  I have no idea how to combat or overcome this - and I think the search is positive and necessary, but it also can stop us from living and when we stop living for fear we will make the wrong choices, we just stop.

I am at a loss for my own words now, but I will leave you with this, from Julian Barnes' novel, The Sense of an Ending.  

...what you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed.  We live in time - it holds us and molds us - but I've never felt I understood it very well.  And I'm not referring to theories about how it bends and doubles back, or may exist elsewhere in parallel versions.  No, I mean ordinary, everyday time, which clocks and watches assure us passes regularly: tick-tock, click-clock.  Is there anything more plausible than a second hand?  And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time's malleability.  Some emotions speed it up, others slow it down; occasionally, it seems to go missing - until the eventual point when it really does go missing, never to return.  

As always, I hope my time away from this blog will not be long.  Until next time.

[amanda]

[there's a grief that can't be spoken...]

...therefore it must be sung.

Les Miserables 
Directed by Tom Hooper
Screenplay by William Nicholson
Screenplay/Music Production by Alan Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg
Screenplay/Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, Samantha Barks, Eddie Redmayne, Amanda Seyfried, Aaron Tveit, Sacha Baron Cohen, Helena Bonham Carter, and an enchanting and talented ensemble.

I'm about to review this cinematic marvel.  Get on this musical train.

I have been criticized in the past for my inability to be hateful and critical, especially when it comes to theatre and music.  I have been told that I cry too easily, that I love characters too much, that I mourn fictional loss as if it were true.  I know the difference between fiction and reality.  But when a story is beautiful, when it is captivating, when it reaches deep into your soul and pulls at your very senses, you must feel.  Reception on a deep level is connecting the story to your own life; however, reception on an even deeper level is letting the characters live in you, allowing their struggles and successes to seep into your skin, and empathizing with the people who share their stories.  I am not ashamed to feel too much.  The richness and appreciation it adds to my life gives me fuel.

I have been in love with Les Miserables since I was four years old.  My parents went to New York to see the show and brought the soundtrack home with them.  Some of my first solid memories are of listening to that musical over and over again, trying to understand the story, asking my parents questions.  This musical taught me about some very adult subjects, like prostitution, thievery, uprisings, and suicide - I found myself empathizing very much with the character of Javert.  My mom helped me understand that Javert was a man who believed so much in his morals and convictions, that his hatred for Jean Valjean blinded him to seeing any other path in life; and when he was faced with forgiveness and redemption from the man he hated, in spite of the years he spent in obvious determination to destroy this man, he absolutely cannot live in his world any longer.  Every story grabs and twists my heartstrings, and Javert's tragic tale has always held equal standing to those of Eponine, Fantine, Enjolras, Gavroche, the students, the beggars, the poor, the deluded.  I held a particular fondness for Eponine (what girl hasn't, really), and I remember imagining her in a pink bedroom when she sang "On My Own," as the rain poured outside.  I wanted Marius to forget about Cosette and love her; I wanted Fantine to be able to keep her hair and rescue her daughter; I wanted Valjean and Javert to be friends; and I was in love with Enjolras so I wanted him for myself.  I grieved for these people, I adored them, I wept for them.  And when I was nine years old, I went to see the show myself.  I bet my mom $5.00 that I wouldn't cry, and when I emerged from the theatre with tears streaked across my face, she told me to keep the $5.00.  She told me that it was okay to cry, that I should have cried, that when I see and hear a beautiful story and beautiful music, I need to allow myself to be affected.  I knew then that I should never be ashamed of giving into my emotions, and I knew in my deepest heart of hearts that I wanted to be a storyteller, that I wanted to be on stage and bury myself in a character and give the audience the ability to go on a journey with me.

So - the film!  I saw it last night.  I have been ridiculously excited about this film adaptation since I first heard of its conception.  I heard some critiques early on, and I also heard a lot of praise.  Obviously I just needed to decide for myself.  I had good feelings.  I walked into this experience with my heart open, ready to fall in love, ready to be swept away and enchanted.  And I was - I was completely and happily entranced in the film, every moment.  Of course there are imperfections, but that is always unavoidable.  I am ecstatic that people came together to bring this story to a wider audience.  While doing justice to the story, characters, theme, and music, the film also explored realms of the story that only a film can do - the scenery, panoramic views, costumes, make-up (and lack of make-up), montages, the close ups and ability for quieter, darker moments.  These aspects added a richness to the story and performances.  I also enjoyed the close-ups during the soliloquy/solo/ballad numbers, I think that the raw and unmasked emotions these actors selflessly bared for us was a brave and respectful way to give the characters life.  It isn't something one can always get from a stage performance in the nosebleed section (although any actor doing his or her job should be giving that much if not more), and I am glad that this adaptation took advantage of its resources.  Everything was appropriately magical and revolting, hilarious and tragic.  Some things were taken in a bit of a different order, and most of these changes I could accept.  I am happy with the casting.  While I know that a lot of these people were given the roles because of their names (and what Broadway show isn't doing that these days?), I feel like most of them made sense.  And if they didn't make sense right away, they earned my respect in the process.  There is never one perfect person for any role - I am sure hundreds of people well-known and unknown could have done beautiful jobs with these roles, but this is the cast so I will only comment on that.  I have always been a Hugh Jackman fan, and I thought he gave an honest, heartfelt portrayal.  I felt the same about Anne Hathaway, whom I adore, and I found her performance to be brave and thoughtful.  I was unsure about Russell Crowe, yet he surprised me.  While he does not have the beautiful voice that I long for in Javert, his stoic and honest nature interested me, and as he smashed into the Seine, I wept with as just as much sorrow.  Samantha Barks was endearing and tragic, although I didn't fall in love with her as much as I had hoped.  I very much liked Eddie Redmayne, despite the slight splash of femininity he added, and his rendition of "Empty Chairs and Empty Tables" was almost ugly in its honesty - I didn't think the pretty boy had it in him.  Aaron Tveit has the vocal chords of an angel and I am unabashedly enamored with him, so mixing that with the beloved Enjolras had me smitten.  And the horrifically gorgeous stage picture of his death was perfectly captured in the film, from what I could see through the blur of tears :)  Amanda Seyfried is a darling, although her soprano was a little Snow White-ish for me, but I can accept her in the role.  Cosette is easily cast aside as the "boring girl soprano part" and I wish that more people would enrich her spirit a bit, but I liked many of Seyfried's choices nonetheless.  I sometimes think audiences' disaffection for Cosette stems from annoyance that she gets what she wants in the end, but she is not without her trials.  Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen - what a duo.  I always love the laughter and disgust that the Thenardiers bring to the table, and these two added even more of their own spices and quirks.  Young Cosette and Gavroche were perfect.  And the ensemble was outstanding.  I especially loved "At the End of the Day."  The dirt and grime and bad teeth and tears seemed to make the smell of poverty and misery leap out of the screen.  Les Miserables was a surreal, beautiful, sublime experience that reminded me why I have always loved this story, loved these characters, loved this music.

One of the magical things about the theatre, in any medium, is that there are so many ways to depict a tale.  This was one version by one group of people.  It stayed true to the original, and bravely strayed and experimented with new and raw material.  Every production of anything should strive to find something new.  My life was enriched by this particular production, and I am excited that it is in a medium I can experience again and again.

There it is, people.  I'd love to hear your comments.

[amanda]

"Empty Chairs and Empty Tables" - Les Miserables  

[i guess you must be somewhere breathing]

I have not lived in New York City for almost seven months now.  Crazy, right?  Well, maybe not to you, as seven months have brought many life events of your own, but for me, it seems crazy.  And while I do feel like my life is constantly in a transition phase, there is a bit of me that feels...a little...wow I am even afraid to type the word...settled/settling?  I don't know if that even makes sense.  I don't know if I can ever actually feel that way, my heart is in too many places.  But I do feel like I made a good decision; however, with the amount of worrying I do about making decisions, I have not allowed myself to feel comfortable just yet.  Perhaps that is a good thing.  Perhaps one should never feel comfortable, then we wouldn't keep striving for more.  Yet I do think that there should be a combination of comfort and aspiration.  I think in some ways I am often wavering between those, and until now I thought of that as a negative thing.  But I have, once again, proven myself incorrect.

I have felt homesick so many times.  The homesickness I feel for New York City is emotionally overwhelming when it washes over me.  My reasons for leaving stand strong, and the positive outcomes from the move thus far have been lovely.  Theatre, time with family, good friends old and new, less stress about my job, less stress about finances, happier about my living location, and many opportunities on the horizon.  Even though my family has relocated (seriously - I mean it when I talk about our nomadic way of life), the time I had with them while we were living in the same city was perfect.  And I am looking forward to visiting them in their new location, which gives me the ability to keep my connection to the East Coast.  That connection to the East Coast is definitely important to me.  No place is perfect, and while some people may think of NYC as the Mecca for many, it is not lacking in its imperfections.  I think I talked about that a lot.  But my love for that city, though altered, never faded.  I miss so many places, so many people, so many regular day things that are only regular in New York.  I feel so happy, so fortunate, to have called that place my home for four years.  The difficulty lies in merging all of my lives, all of my places, all of the changes I have gone through, into the life I am living now.  I think many people go through this, to some degree, I just wish I didn't think about it so much, didn't worry about it so much.

I have been thinking a lot lately about early childhood behaviors and how they speak to our behaviors as adults.  I have always been afraid of new things.  Going somewhere for the first time, doing something dangerous - I avoid these types of things.  When I was learning how to drive, I avoided getting behind the wheel for as long as I possibly could, and when I did, I would freak out, even though I only practiced in this little residential area for a long time before going out into the real streets.  And even after finishing the class, I waited more than six months to take the test.  And I am still a little afraid when I drive.  Slightly because of the four years of no driving due to complete dependence on public transportation, but I am also too aware of the potential dangers of the road.  Driving can stand in for other things I fear - putting myself out there for love and success.  Moving and changing can help to overcome certain fears; however, some of those fears are ingrained within us and we really have to work to get away from them.  I will never stop being cautious.  Ever.  That's who I am.  I just hope that I can continue to blaze through some of my cautiousness to attain some of the beauty missing from my life.

I am really out of practice with this blog writing thing.

But I have missed it.

So here I go, pushing fear aside, and I'll be back soon.

[amanda]

- The National - "Patterns of Fairytales" - 

[cheers to the last four years]

While a blog post from me is long over-due, tonight I must write because it is my last night in New York City.  For now.  For a while.  These past couple months have been surreal - a mix of being completely and overwhelmingly aware of the finality of this chapter in my life, and an utter loss of understanding and comprehension of the changes around me.  I know that I am making these changes happen, and the personal recognition of the power of my own choices is startling.  However, no change ever comes with the absence of  anxiety and nervousness for the unknown.  I am incredibly excited to see where my life will lead as the following days, months, and years unfold.  New York has taught me to live day to day, sometimes hour to hour, and when I am more confident, perhaps week to week.  I do not know what the future holds, but I know that I have developed more of a trust in myself in these last four years in New York, and I will continue to trust myself as I move forward in this next adventure.  I have gained so much here.  I have grown.  I have cried and laughed and I don't know which one happened the most, but it doesn't matter.  I have met people who have changed my life, I have strengthened friendships with old friends.  I have done something I have wanted to do since I was nine years old and discovered that it isn't what I want anymore.

I am proud to have called myself a New Yorker for the past four years.  I hope that I will always be a bit of a New Yorker.  There is a magic to the city that will never lose it's power over me, but there is magic that has been lost as well.  Magic lost through knowledge, through experience, and, in the end, through acceptance, and a realization that magic isn't the only component of beauty and happiness.

The rest of my thoughts cannot be formed into words at this time.  I am quite full of emotions.  Thank you, New York City.  I bid you a fond farewell.

[amanda]

[you're a wasp nest]

It's funny. When there's so much to write about, the inability to write becomes greater. My mind has been consumed by thoughts about change and transition in my life. I have had difficulty sorting things out in my own silly brain, so the drive to write about everything in a blogging atmosphere was pretty much zero. Somewhat a case of perpetual writer's block, and somewhat a case of reclusiveness. Since moving to New York I think I have become more and more of a recluse, actually. Seems like an oxymoron, but interestingly enough, many people in NYC have told me that they often feel "lonely" more than anything else. I don't think lonely necessarily translates to unhappy, but it can.

So, the biggest news, in my life anyway. I have decided to leave New York. I am actually very excited about this. I am hopeful and optimistic. I am going to a place where I have a lot of good connections, great friends, and the opportunity to do more of what I love. My aunt Linda told me I should write a piece, "Why I am breaking up with you, New York City," and submit it to some magazines and newspapers, because what's on my mind is definitely on the minds of others. Besides, breaking up is hardly ever only negative - it's difficult to break up with someone (or something, someplace) you love. You have both positive and negative memories, and deciding which memories dominate your final decision can be nearly impossible. I've been going back and forth about this for over a year - but someone once told me that when it's time to leave New York, I'll know. And I have found that to be true. I know. I'm ready. Just like I knew when it was time to move here. I do not regret moving here at all, 0% regret, completely. I am so happy I did. But living here has taught me a lot - about myself, about what I want. And I've grown up in the past three and a half years. What I want now is very different from what I wanted when I was 24. I have always had trouble doing what I want vs. doing what others think I should do. That has evolved into doing what I think others think I should do. Hot mess. As I have said in many posts before, I'm sure no one else is even thinking about me. I don't mean that in a melodramatic way, obviously people think of me, like my family and friends. But I need to do what I want. So I am. And I am happy about it.

On to other perpetual wonderings! Another subject that has consumed my brain lately -consideration. Too much vs. too little. New York City vs. the rest of the U.S and the world. I wonder whether or not I am too impatient about consideration. Do I expect too much? I think I may be a little oversensitive to the subject of consideration, but there are times when the lack of it in this place is ridiculous. Between train etiquette and the retail industry in a city full of millions of people and thousands (millions?) of tourists; living in a neighborhood where people are yelling and fighting outside at midnight, littering in the street, and teaching their children to tell other children to "F$*k off" and hit each other; all of this has led me to become very weary and tired of the behavior I see on a daily basis. [Side note: this topic contributes just a small portion to my many reasons for leaving NYC, the more prominent reasons have to do with passion, art, personal happiness, pace of life, etc.] So many people just shove each other around here, and I've even been guilty of that before. Why can't everyone step to the side while people get out of the train before getting on? Many people do, yes, but many others are only thinking about getting a seat and where they are going that they don't notice that they are walking straight into another human being. I am at work at 6 o'clock in the morning five days a week to make a place look really nice so that people will want to shop there. And when I see people walk in at 9 o'clock and start to tear the place apart, I experience a heartbreaking challenge. Yes I know that I am quite a perfectionist and a bit obsessive and compulsive about organization and cleanliness. But I also go shopping, and I know it is possible to not do so like a fiend on crack. People have to know that someone has to clean up after them, and while yes, those people are paid to do so, it also takes a lot of time and energy and the ratio of shoppers to sales people is not even a plausible equation to me. This goes for restaurants, bars, the street, everywhere. I ask myself every day if my expectations are too high, and usually my answer is yes, they are - but I still don't see a happy medium.

I have become angrier and more frustrated than I'd like. It is difficult to look at myself and see traits that cloud the positive person I have always tried to be.

Moving around throughout childhood has invoked quite a sense of wanderlust in my being. Despite my inability to accept endings and change (even though I am forced to), I still find ways to make changes. This world is so big and full of interesting people and places. New York City is only one of them. I feel lucky to have been able to call this place home for three and a half years. I know that it is a fantastic place. I also know it is not the only place.

I need to write down all of the things I want to do before I leave. I don't really have a lot of time, actually. I know that there is so much I will miss about this city. I will cry when I drive away. But I am full of hope and excitement. I am ready for the next challenge. If New York could give me one parting gift, I want it to hold true to the statement that "If you can live in New York City, you can live anywhere." We shall see.

I shall see.

[amanda]

title quote: "Wasp Nest," The National, Cherry Tree

[i've got somewhere to go, i've got a new road to follow]

I was going to devote an entry to Christmas Traditions at the Carsons...and I started writing about it...but then I realized that the only people who would really appreciate my nostalgic ramblings about holiday tradition are the four people (and the crazy dog) who share the day with me. So I just want to say that I hope 2012 is off to a lovely beginning! And I encourage you to think of the traditions that make you smile, no matter what time of year.

The world is a big place. So many wonderful places to be, so much to explore. It's exciting and overwhelming. How does one go about choosing the best place to be? Many people don't even get to choose. I really love all of the places I've lived throughout my life, but it's impossible to choose a favorite, and to choose whether I want to stay here or move on to another place - or to go back to an old place. I have called seven states my home in my twenty-seven years of life...and they are all special and beautiful and full of possibilities. I wonder if people who move around throughout childhood/early adulthood have an ingrained sense of wanderlust. I just cannot figure out a way to combine my so-called wanderlust with my chronic nostalgia and resistance to change.

I already posted this on my facebook page, but do yourself a favor and watch this video/listen to this song from Ingrid Michaelson's new album, Human Again, which comes out on January 24th (wish it was sooner!). I cannot wait to have those sweet new melodies ringing through my ears. This woman knows how to write beautiful lyrics and music, it would do you well to become a fan (although I'm guessing many of you already are).

So far, I am not doing too badly on my resolution to listen to myself this year. The more I consider the things that I want and try to accept the fact that nothing can be certain, the more relaxed and optimistic I become. I think I am always going to be a "late-bloomer" in many respects, perhaps I'm learning how to embrace that.

I am watching Love Actually right now, already teared up during the opening montage, haha. Pathetic. Although that bitch who cheats on Colin Firth in the beginning really pisses me off. And my lovely roommate and bff is home to watch it with me, so farewell for the moment and I'll write again soon.

[amanda]

title quote: "I Must Go," Late Tuesday, Late Tuesday (scroll down and take a listen from two entries ago!)

new year, more thoughts

Happy 2012 everyone! I hope you all had a safe, restful, and fun holiday season. I am heading back to the Big Apple this evening, and while that should be the most exciting thing in the world, my reluctance to leave my friends, family, and cozy house behind is trumping that excitement. I am, however, trying to be a brave adult and think of the people I am thrilled to be able to see upon my return to NYC, and the beautiful places to go that can only be found in the city that never sleeps. This positive attitude alongside my melancholy heart is quite an odd emotional sensation. This will be brief, but I wanted to get a few thoughts out there. The next entry will be a fun exploration of Christmas with the Carsons - a commentary on the many years of celebration and weird traditions in my household.

I am not one for a long list of New Years resolutions. Obviously, there are many things I want to work on, that I want to change or better about myself, but I think that should be started and maintained any time of the year - and changes are difficult. I don't like writing a huge list and feeling guilty about what I haven't done. Haha...that sounds really optimistic... But I have two very important changes, or improvements, I want to make this year, and I think they might be useful to share.

1.) I want to listen to myself. What do I really want? How do I really feel? What makes me happy? What makes me unhappy? Rather than doing what I think everyone else thinks I should do, or feel the way I'm supposed to feel, I need to dig deep and figure out my needs. I am forever worried about being selfish, but I think we all need to be selfish to a certain degree. It does not matter what others think about my life. It is my life. Investing in my own happiness will only make me a better person in mind, heart, and spirit. I need to know what I want without feeling guilty or worried about making mistakes. Making mistakes is inevitable. Believe me, this resolution will be a challenge for me, but I'm hoping for the best.

2.) I want to stop comparing myself to other people. Whether they are people I know, or people I don't know, the only person I can be is me.

That being said (written?), I wish you all a happy and successful start to your new year, and I look forward to more thoughts and reflections as time goes by. Please do not hesitate to comment! I love to know what others are thinking.

[amanda]