CARPE DIEM: MOVIES, MEMOIR and VICARIOUS TRAVEL to ITALY

In the garden, the delphiniums were in flower. Through scented twilight the girl in the white dress walked with a step as light as a cobweb. That evening, she hadn't a care in the world.

Mrs. Delahunty, My House in Umbria

Mrs. Delahunty: I may be dead next month. The moon may have crashed into the earth. Who knows what dreadful things may come to pass? But at the moment, I'm happy. What else matters?

Colonal: Carpe Diem

Mrs. Delahunty: I'm never really sure just what that means.

Colonal: Oh. Seize the day. Embrace the present. Enjoy life while you've got the chance.

Mrs. Delahunty: Carpe Diem. I'll remember that.

My House in Umbria

~~~~~~

Lately, I am aware that I have to do just that, carpe diem, because everything seems to have a feeling of impermanence. Not in a dark somber way but in the way that you feel that something's moving and changing.

I wonder why after you hit a certain age, you wake up with memories of people and places that you haven't thought about in a long time. Often fragments of youth-inspired dreams come back to your mind with a strong force. When I was a teen, I wanted to travel to Europe and it became one of my main goals to tour England, Scotland, Ireland as well as France and Denmark. After much saving, planning and determination, I finally was able to make the unforgettable trip. I think my early obsession with travel was connected to my love of romance novels. Though the love story obsession was left in my teenage years,  the enjoyment of other lands and people remained.

I think that's why I love Maggie Smith in My House in Umbria. The film is set in Italy, where she plays the lead character Miss. Emily Delahunty but (as she tells us) her name is not important. In fact, we learn that she has many other nom de plumes and we realize that she actively creates her own fluid identity. She's a writer of romance novels who feels most alive when she's helping others. In one scene, she invites a group of complete strangers to move in with her after a train explosion. Through her engagement with the other characters, we fall in love with her quirky personality. Whenever I want to imagine myself in another life this movie does the trick.

If you can watch My House in Umbria and not yearn to travel to Italy, you are a strong person.  If you are having an Italian themed movie night, you might watch Under the Tuscan Sun or go out to see Letters to Juliet. Both of these movies will make you feel as though you have been in Italy or that it's essential for you to go there now!

I have read the memoir, Under the Tuscan Sun (Frances Mayes), and found it to be richly satisfying. I loaned this book to a close friend who found it tedious with detail about the Italian countryside, garden restorations and house renovations. However, I like these details of ordinary life. I like to see how people make decisions and what occupies their time. I'm interested in both real and spruced-up life. (A little magic making fantasy is fine with me.) Another popular book made into film that has an enchanting section on an vacation in Italy is Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. (Julie Roberts plays the author Gilbert in the movie.) There is another saturate-yourself-in-Italy movie that I have already mentioned in previous blogs, Enchanted April, which documents a life transforming month in an Italian Medieval castle. Gorgeous scenery!

In the London Times, a small classified ad appears:

“To those who appreciate Wisteria and Sunshine:

To let for the month of April - a medieval castle on

the Italian Mediterranean shore.”

Photographs and movie review here.



If you want to explore Italy or imagine yourself there in real life, try Rick Steves' link to travel. Now I wonder, which movies you watch (or books do you read) that bring you into lovely romantic Italy? Have I missed any? 

Do you hear Italian music...

~~~~

Waking up on the Island of Enchantment that is also know as Puerto Rico, I plan to bake a fragrant pan of vegetarian lasagna, toss a green salad and toast garlic bread.

I promise myself that at every moment I will carpe diem!

On a side note: my struggling gardenia bush finally bloomed after three years of waiting, hoping, and supplementing it with coffee grounds. 

I like to believe that this momentous occasion is symbolic, perhaps it's foreshadowing a trip in the near future?

Memory Mosaic

It was the first time I had done something important. I memorized the Ten Commandments; and too, the history of the Lutheran, Methodist and Episcopalian churches. I had passed the exam with high marks and the church was recognizing me as an adult. I was to speak in front of the congregation way up on the podium. For my big moment, I had prepared a speech about honesty where I would assert that I learned this trait from my father. However, he would not be there for this first public speech. He would not be there because he never attended my special events- not in school or performances in band, choir or drama. I didn’t expect him to come, and yet I couldn’t keep some small part of me from hoping. When the day came, I wore the mantle of my disappointment at his absence gently like the embracing wrap of a surrogate parent. I would bow my head and hear my own counsel culled from other such letdown moments, “Don’t want too much or you will feel the consequences of getting too little.”

My mother was there as expected. She was the one who took the children to church, a responsibility she shouldered in spite of our resisting tears and lateness. It’s Sunday. Go to church. No questions. Up on the podium, I bravely spoke about honesty to a sparse but attentive audience. I told the story about how I learned to tell the truth from my dad. I’m telling the anecdote about eating the prohibited jelly, however I'm omitting important details, such as the truth that I didn't actually eat the jelly though I said I did. The truth didn’t fit my point well. I wanted to claim that Dad taught me to value honesty even when it was about little indiscretions. I left out the entire scene where he paced in front of a row of five scared children cracking a belt and speaking in a deepened Tennessee hills’ voice that terrified us until the guilty party was forced to confess. I didn’t say that he threatened  to beat everyone until someone confessed. I also didn’t say to the congregation or to my father that I knew who ate the strawberry jelly.

Temptation. The Lord knows the art of temptation. Do you recognize the line from Enchanted April? That strawberry jelly was just sitting on the shelf offering a special kind of temptation. We yearned for the taste of summer freedom from this forbidden fruit. My sister couldn’t resist. I knew she wouldn’t confess. I knew no one would. I knew we would all be needlessly beat if someone didn’t confess. I said I did it. My jellied legs were ordered to Mom and Dad’s private bedroom where I was taught honesty by my father- the same father I was lying about during my maiden speech.The father I was devoted to in spite of the beatings and his absence. My father who taught me to value honesty. I can still hear his voice, Take your pants down. Bend over. 

I highlighted my father’s integrity in the speech my mother attended. The speech father didn’t hear. When I finished, I don’t remember my mother's praise. I remember her tight face; it was a face that yearned for validation from a daughter and a face that could never receive. Mom was playing the thankless mother role while her middle daughter praised the absent father. She didn’t see her daughter’s hidden hope that if she were good enough she might somehow earn his love and feel safe. I admit that I was the daughter who felt sorry because she couldn’t appreciate her mother. I was the daughter who was shamed into silence. My mother didn’t tell me that day that Dad didn’t deserve my devotion though she knew about the beating. Mom, how could you allow it? You used our fear of being beat to control us. Just wait until your dad gets home then you’ll get it. Instantly, that would silence us. Why didn’t you protect me, Mom?In all of the silences between us over the years, my mother never learned the truth about that incident. She never knew how much I lied in my speech about honesty. She didn't know I did not agree to these repeated beatings. Our Father who art in heaven...hallowed be thy name. I would do anything for my father but it would never be enough. In my mind, Mom was responsible for his behavior. Why is it we always expect more from our mothers? After the service, the members congratulated me. All strangers. All empty. All those who weren’t in my life except on Sunday. Soon the final stage of my confirmation would come and we would celebrate the official ceremony. This was the day that my mother’s extended (and unknown to me) family could be invited to our house for a big party. I would wear a white dress and after my first trip to the hair salon, I would have an up-do.  Stepping in a pair of low heels, I would receive all of the attention of a grown up girl- just the way my sisters had before me.

It came down to this- my mother said, “I will give you one hundred dollars if you take that instead of a party.” One hundred dollars! That was a lot of money. More money than I had ever received before. If I accepted the money there would be no party. That was the deal. Mom said I might not get that much money in gifts even if I had a party. So it was a gamble. Should I take the sure money or have a party? I could tell that my mother wanted me to take the money so I did. I knew she didn’t have time or the desire to throw another confirmation party. Now I’m twelve again. I’m angry. I’m the older woman now and I’m fighting for the girl who was tricked by her mother- her mother who was jealous of the girl’s devotion to an undeserving father. The mother who wanted to be done with this child raising drill and just get on with her own life. I’m the woman remembering the girl. I was conned. I was conned by my mother who didn’t want to do the mother thing anymore and by my father who just didn’t do.

My parents are fighting again and I don't know how to stop it. Stop the yelling. Stop it!  Only I don’t say anything. I'm listening to an old fight. It reminds me of that scene in Nine Months where the quirky character Gail (Joan Cusack) says to her husband, “I can’t believe you are fighting during my moment. My moment! My miracle! She screams at him while he is punching and wrestling with another father in the delivery room. The laughter lightens me enough to remember that Dad was absent during my birth. According to Mom, he went out and got drunk while she was having a baby. (Really she can't remember which child it was.) Apparently, he met one of my uncles and they took off to celebrate. Mom said she could have died while he was out getting tanked. I heard this fight many times over the years. I don’t know the true story but I do know that Mom couldn’t get over it. She needed recognition and support, he wasn’t there.

At home, I’m sitting on the stairs after my big ceremony. I’ve been confirmed but not affirmed. We arrive to an empty house. No dinner. No cake. No one’s there. I’m so alone. I feel this space gaping wide and wider still. Mom walks up to me with the one hundred dollars. Here’s your money. Remember our deal. Just the money. I look at the money. No card. No friendly faces. I’m sitting alone in my white dress. My piled up and sprayed-still hair is wilting. The curls stretch out on one side more than the other. The hair pins press against my scalp but I don’t take them out. No one is here. Mom’s gone. Did she know how I felt? I prostituted myself for one hundred dollars, and she made the deal.

[Enchanted April- this is a hyperlink to Elizabeth von Arnim's novel, which is provided by Project Gutenberg.] 

Carpe Diem

In the garden, the delphiniums were in flower. Through scented twilight the girl in the white dress walked with a step as light as a cobweb. That evening, she hadn't a care in the world.

Mrs. Delahunty, My House in Umbria

Mrs. Delahunty: I may be dead next month. The moon may have crashed into the earth. Who knows what dreadful things may come to pass? But at the moment, I'm happy. What else matters?

Colonal: Carpe Diem

Mrs. Delahunty: I'm never really sure just what that means.

Colonal: Oh. Seize the day. Embrace the present. Enjoy life while you've got the chance.

Mrs. Delahunty: Carpe Diem. I'll remember that.

My House in Umbria

~~~~~~

Lately, I am aware that I have to do just that, carpe diem, because everything seems to have a feeling of impermanence. Not in a dark somber way but in the way that you feel that some thing's moving, some thing's changing.

I wonder what it is about life that after you hit a certain age, you wake up with memories of people and places that you haven't thought about in a long time. And fragments of youth-inspired dreams come back to your mind with a strong force. When I was a teen, I wanted to travel to Europe, and I did. I think my early obsession with travel was connected to my romance novel addiction. The love story inclination was left in the past, while the enjoyment of other lands and people remained.

I think that's why I love Maggie Smith in My House in Umbria. She's a writer of romance novels who has a calling to help people. She quirkily entertains us by her thriving imagination about the people who stay with her after they all are involved in a train explosion. (I wanted to post a link here but it's difficult to find a positive evaluation- to many spoilers. ) Nevertheless, I love the movie and the character that Maggie Smith plays, Mrs. Emily Delahunty- who has many other delightful nom de plumes.

The movie is set in Italy and if you can watch it and not yearn for travel to Italy, you are a strong person. It has magical views and entertaining cultural moments. If you are having an Italian themed movie night, you might rent Under the Tuscan Sun or go out to see Letters to Juliet. Both of these movies will make you feel as though you have been in Italy -or that it's essential for you to go there now!

I have read the memoir, Under the Tuscan Sun (Frances Mayes), and found it to be richly satisfying-and NOT A ROMANCE. I loaned this book to a close friend who found it tedious with detail about the Italian countryside, garden restorations and house renovations. However, I like these boring details of ordinary life. I like to see how people make decisions and what occupies their time. I'm interested in both real and spruced up life. (A little magic making fantasy is fine with me.) Another popular book that has an enchanting section on an extended vacation in Italy is Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. Did you know that Julie Roberts is going to play Gilbert in the movie? (Scheduled to be released in August.) There is another saturate-yourself-in=Italy movie that I have already mentioned in previous blogs, Enchanted April, which documents a life transforming month in an Italian Medieval castle. Gorgeous scenery! If you want to explore Italy this summer, or imagine yourself there in real life, try Rick Steves' link to travel.

~~~~

As for myself, I plan to stay in Puerto Rico, cook vegetarian lasagna, solve concrete everyday problems and at every moment-carpe diem! If that doesn't excite, think about my lovely gardenia bush that finally bloomed after three years of waiting, hoping, and supplementing with coffee grounds. Finally, it has a fragrant white bloom! Maybe it foretells of positive moments yet to come? ~~~~~~~~

Happiness Inspired?

Oasis Lifestyle:

Who needs inspiration? Me!!

I inspired myself this week by planting a little kitchen garden of sweet peppers, grape tomatoes, basil, cilantro, recao, golden marigold, and purple inpatients. It was a quick project because I planted it in a large pot and set it on the patio wall which overlooks the central mountains of Puerto Rico.

After reading a few pages from The Happiness Project a new memoir by Gretchen Ruben, I joined the website so that I receive inspiration on a regular basis. (!) I have also joined a time management site so that I can cut down my stress level.

~Are you feeling overwhelmed?~

Lately, I have been overwhelmed with tasks and stress, which has made me solution-oriented. I want to write a little about this problem. Just to keep it manageable, I have identified three common areas where we can be overwhelmed; work, finance and family. In my case- all three overlap.

@Work

What makes us happy at work? I found this John Ruskin quote at "The Happiness Project" website:

In order that people may be happy in their work, these three things are needed: They must be fit for it. They must not do too much of it. And they must have a sense of success in it.--John Ruskin (Ruskin is mentioned in Enchanted April- a must-read about love and reconciliation!)

[photo credit/painting by Sir John Everett Millais]

Makes sense?! What gives you a feeling of success at work? Is it recognition? trust? validation?

Does that affirming sensation have to come from the outside or can we give it to ourselves? I'm not going to answer these questions because I think Ruskin's wise comment is enough for now. However, I'm sending out a gentle suggestion that we learn to validate ourselves-to notice the good that we often do for others. We are all connected in some way. Our work extends our connection and can be employed to uplift others.

@Finance and family (I'm giving this problem breathing room. No solutions offered!)

It is not how much one makes but to what purpose one spends. --John Ruskin

Recently, I bought a pocket size black Cash Book. I thought I would like to record expenditures there. It's not going well. I just haven't been able to record what I spend. One day passes and then another, and I still forget to record purchases. I tell myself, "I will have to start again on payday." I refuse to admit that I just don't care enough about money. I like to say "yes" when the children ask, "Could you pay me back for... I had to spend my own money for a book, a ticket, a ..."; and "Could you give me a little money for...lunch, going out, just in case...". I think they are reasonable in their requests. I don't like to say no.

My poor little Cash Book is neglected, yet again.

I'm seriously flooded with memories of that powerful money management book, Your Money or Your Life. (Vicki Robin, et al.) Have you read it? It teaches you to recognize your own spending patterns and identify the feeling of enough. It's been updated but I'm thinking of the first version. I have a strong memory of the authors celebrating the fact that they were able to wear a pair of shoes for a few years!

Weakness? I buy shoes... often. (I'm feeling a bit of guilt. I'm still looking for that perfect pair.) My parents were frugal. Yes, frugal. As a child, I could not bring myself to ask for anything because I dreaded the inevitable, "No." Concerning my own money management-or lack of-my working theory is that I am now overcompensating with "yes" but it's under control. (If only I could verify my expenditures...poor little Cash Book-we need another reconciliation.)

~My New Sandals~

I love these stress relieving shoes. I recently purchase another pair at the local health food store. If you want to relax and increase your energy, you might try these sandals. Still, I must caution you that they cause some soreness while you become accustomed to the pressure. (A bit like a bed of nails?- no, just rubber nails!-ouch!)

reflexology health shoes -Mine cost about $20 but the link here has a pair for under $4 See how I'm trying to lessen my guilt by inviting you to spend money? Shame on me! :-) ...sigh...I should have waited to buy my shoes. What is my weakness? I don't comparison shop and I seek immediate gratification. (Note: these are insights for my little neglected Cash Book.)

~Digression~

There is a delightful scene in Enchanted April-the movie-where Lottie is suppose to record every cent in her own little cash book. I remember her husband, Mr Wilkins, asking her, "You are recording every cent you spend in that little book I gave you?" She replies, "Even the flowers." (He considers flowers a waste of money because they die.) Lottie does a much better job of record-keeping than me- even if she does waste money on charity and flowers! (Mr. Oasis is not involved in my money management project.)

As I'm on Lottie's side, I want to leave you with a pot full of tiny purple lantana flowers. (I think they are a lantana variety.)

Have a lovely week!

[photo credits-me]

(Run your cursor over the text for hyperlinks)

An Excellent Film: A Mighty Heart

Film review and photo credit

I've just finished watching the movie, A Mighty Heart with Angela Joli. I 've avoided watching this movie, I confess. It seemed too difficult to confront the real murder of a journalist through the eyes and experience of his pregnant wife, Mariane, who is also a journalist. Some of you know that my own mother was murdered and I find these stories difficult to watch. I remember the media that surrounded my mother's murder and the opportunistic way that those involved tried to use the story to foster their own often unrelated causes.

In Mom's case, the Huron Township Police Chief, Mr. Cagal, tried to use her murder to argue against gun control. Others carried the story with an emphasis on property line disputes emphasizing how people allow their emotions to get out of control. The problem with these interpretations was that Mom and her partner, Christine Puckett, were treated as somehow responsible for the event. Their same sex relationship was hinted at but not addressed as the real reason for the murders. One article was published with the headline, "Two Lesbian Women Shot" and this created a stir in the gay community. No one except the gay community wanted to admit that it was a hate crime. The general media tone was geared to comfort their reading audience by couching the truth in a mild it-could-never-happen-to-you message. I had a shocking realization that the news reports were gently placing the blame on my mother and Christine by subtle inference even though the facts tell us that they did not kill him, they did not carry out weapons, and they were innocent of any crime.

One of the reports, revealed that James Brooks had used a shovel to attempt to hit Christine. Mom went into the house and called the police. Soon after this, she called the police again to report that Christine was shot. Does this sound like a woman who would let her emotions get out of control? She was on the phone when she witnessed Christine's murder, she dropped the receiver and she went out to help. Brooks came out with a shot gun, came up close to Mom, and she didn't turn away. She spoke with him as he shot her at close range. There is no doubt that the newspapers were placing the blame on the victims by their objective stance. There is a feeling that we have to uncover the real story. (It couldn't be an unprovoked murder.)

The problem with objectivity is clear. If Mom was enraged or "over-emotional" she would have gotten a weapon herself. Friends, this is rural Michigan, everyone has guns. Mom had a license to carry a handheld weapon because she transported substantial sums of cash and was occasionally threatened in her real estate business. She also had the "normal" weapons, rifles and such that you have on a farm. Brooks had weapons, too. Only he used them to shoot animals that crossed onto his property,e.g. chickens, dogs and a goat. And he used his guns to shoot and kill both Mom and Christine. They were the innocent of any crime so why did the papers try to shape the story in a way that softly but securely placed part of the blame on those murdered instead of securely on the the murderer?

When Brooks was questioned as to why he killed them, he said "It had to be done." Did the community of reporters, police, and passersby agree? I reflect on the thinking, "So two lesbian women were killed? Life goes on. Don't get in fights with your neighbors." And under these messages there is that subtle message, "If you are lesbian, watch out. Keep it a secret. You also could be killed."

~~~

The movie murder depiction has something in common with hate crimes. It is talking about terrorism and senseless murders but also it successfully delivers a message about tolerance. One review, criticizes the lack of information provided about the cross-cultural undercurrent that contributed to the murder; and though I understand the film director's choices (Michael Winterbottom) I do think many "why" questions are left unanswered.

I think that the story could have benefited from a historical placement of the conflict between Muslims and Hindus because many viewers do not understand the history of religious tension and peace between the two groups. Unfortunately, most people like to have an easy target in which to place the word terrorist, usually depicted in an image wearing a head wrap of some sort which results in the meaning: head wrap + dark face = terrorist. I've had friends who were detained by the airport security because of suspicious skin tone, or an Arab look. (Puerto Ricans are a multi-cultural group.)

That's me in my cold university office warming myself with a makeshift sweater head wrap. Watch out!

~~~

Mariane Pearl's memoir, A Mighty Heart; The Brave Life and Death of my Husband, provided the inspiration for this film. Mariane tries to show the world a way to understanding through continued dialogue and a shift from the focus on fear and retaliation. Pearl's insight is informed by Buddhists principles and as she continues sharing the story, she extends both her husband's and her own committment toward peaceful action in this world. (Here is the link to the organization Mariane Pearl founded.)