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“Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent.” — Marilyn vos Savant
(Source: lastcigaretteinthepack, via taherehmafi)
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![It took me a while to get into the pathos and comedy and rhythm of Federico Fellini’s Le Notti di Cabiria [1957] — and frankly it was largely because Giulietta Masina’s titular character seemed off-putting. At first, that is. A streetwalker who seems to defy the demands of her profession by being awkward and comic-looking, I kept wondering how I was supposed to sympathize with Cabiria’s constant cycles of heartbreaks and denials. But as the film sets her up in a series of situations that bare her frustrations and wants and hopes and dreams, I was drawn bit by bit by Masina’s carefully constructed quirkiness. This is a damaged woman, but she wills herself to live through each day with a bravado that seems almost heroic. That I still felt she was being stupid until the very end did not deny me the sudden identifiability I had with her character: how foolish we all are in the pursuit of love, and how we give all to the point of being emptied — or in this case, almost murdered. Twice.
But also how redemptive her final act is: her heart broken once more, and having lost everything, she comes out broken from the darkness of the woods and then into a throng of teenagers singing and dancing their way back to town. Through her tears, as she walks on with these gay people, Cabiria begins to smile. And it is a genuine smile, yet something that also encompasses the depths of her sadness and loss, deepened by a reservoir of unquenchable hope. Because really, despite all these things, life goes on.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4jgq3ggGR1qbbr9bo1_500.png)
It took me a while to get into the pathos and comedy and rhythm of Federico Fellini’s Le Notti di Cabiria [1957] — and frankly it was largely because Giulietta Masina’s titular character seemed off-putting. At first, that is. A streetwalker who seems to defy the demands of her profession by being awkward and comic-looking, I kept wondering how I was supposed to sympathize with Cabiria’s constant cycles of heartbreaks and denials. But as the film sets her up in a series of situations that bare her frustrations and wants and hopes and dreams, I was drawn bit by bit by Masina’s carefully constructed quirkiness. This is a damaged woman, but she wills herself to live through each day with a bravado that seems almost heroic. That I still felt she was being stupid until the very end did not deny me the sudden identifiability I had with her character: how foolish we all are in the pursuit of love, and how we give all to the point of being emptied — or in this case, almost murdered. Twice.
But also how redemptive her final act is: her heart broken once more, and having lost everything, she comes out broken from the darkness of the woods and then into a throng of teenagers singing and dancing their way back to town. Through her tears, as she walks on with these gay people, Cabiria begins to smile. And it is a genuine smile, yet something that also encompasses the depths of her sadness and loss, deepened by a reservoir of unquenchable hope. Because really, despite all these things, life goes on.
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Why hello there, Mr. Shum. Aren’t you looking dreamy these days…
New Directions finally won the Nationals, after three long years of most of us following Glee. So how come victory seemed so … anti-climactic and hollow? Third season finale had its heart-tugging moments, but it was largely a bust. And that last song, as Rachel steps into New York, was far from memorable. In the end, the last three episodes were disappointments, considering the three-episode high that preceded them.
So yeah, this will be my last season of Glee. So long, guys. It was nice knowing you.
“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand — and melting like a snowflake…” — Francis Bacon Sr.
So you’ve been warned. :)
(via lemontreeboy)
FRANCES: The procrastination is going along fabulously. And soon it will breed abject self-loathing, and then I’ll just become a writing machine.
PATTI: It’s her process.
~ From Audrey Wells’ Under the Tuscan Sun
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“Is your faith so shaky, that one song could make it crumble?” — Susan Lara