Funny, older women; Is Shyamalan still scary?; Safari at home.
Funny, older women; Is Shyamalan still scary?; Safari at home.
3 Things this week and a poem
I'm writing from a camping trailer in eastern Ontario in my in-laws’ driveway. We're having a blast with cousins, but that doesn't mean the kids will fall asleep, so I write in the dark, hoping to hear snores, after the kind of summertime fun I adored as a kid.
What a gift to offer similar experiences to my very own kindred.
Happy weekend. Thanks for spending some of it with Things I Wrote Down.
1. Funny, older women
We did a cross-province drive this weekend, which means the kids got miles of tablet time and that when Petra wasn't attending her MBA course online in the passenger seat, we listened to podcasts together.
And so, I departed from my usual habit of listening to US political takes (what relief!) and listened to Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ interview Anne Lamott of Bird by Bird fame.
It was a delightful interview, full of wisdom and laughs. You may have seen both of us tear up as we drove through corn fields.
We recommend, but will add a language warning (which podcasts usually have, but we missed here, and were therefore surprised in one particular spot as we drove with kids 😬).
The episode will make you want to embrace life, forgive, throw off perfectionism, read more, and laugh at yourself.
2. Is Shyamalan still scary?
Remember when M. Night Shyamalan drew the crowds? His films were must-sees and every conversation about his films required careful warnings and spoiler alerts.
I avoided all conversations about The Sixth Sense until I had seen it (which was weeks later than everyone else). Signs could traumatize grown men (read: Chris Kooman) and the Lady in the Water ended relationships, depending on whether you liked it or not.
I went to see Trap this week with my visiting, traumatized-forever-by-Signs brother, and you'd never know it was the same filmmaker at work. The one, nightly screening was a quarter full.
The trailer gave away the narrative hinge, there were no surprises or mind-blowing moments. No scares or thrills. Just hopes that something amazing would happen.
Spoiler: it didn't.
I went to it cheering for M. Night and for Josh Hartnett, who is rarely seen on the big screen anymore, and drove away disappointed. Turns out I'm an optimist.
B
My silver lining: It was fun to see a film with my older bro, and to remember that “if aliens were real and they did invade earth, it'd happen exactly like in Signs,” and that's why he'll never watch it again.
3. Safari at home
We finally went to Cambridge to see the African Lion Safari. And it was wonderful.
To witness the sheer delight as our kids saw real lions, rhinos, giraffes and baboons up close, from our own vehicle. Wonderful to experience sheer delight ourselves. To see, with our own eyes, the bold, audacious vision of a master Maker and his created world.
And wonderful to do it all in an afternoon without the cost of airfare (though I've been to Kenya, seen it, loved it).
If you're in the area, check it out.
The voice on the mountain - A poem
Nature speaks to us, does it not? Seeing its splendor in a variety of ways on a week’s vacation, I was reminded of this poem from some time ago, which I dedicated to a dear friend.
I hope he, you, I continue to listen for and hear that voice.
the voice on the mountain the voice of the mountain is not in the wind, though it falls mightily upon the face of the rock nor is the voice of the mountain in the shattering of boulders as they splinter and crash with force to echo across the valley the voice on the mountain is in a quiet knowing a gentle, near fleeting mark pressed into the spirit bearing witness in the midst of the mountain’s power the voice of the mountain need not shout: here I stand and will not be moved see how I remain though Nature throw all her force upon me though I am scarred and grooved, ratcheted and chunked by wind, ice and rain here I will stay until all eyes are lifted up the voice on the mountain nourishes like a stream that emerges between a gap in the rock whose source cannot be detected originates from a unknown place secret and deep the voice of the mountain is a single voice but behind the mountain, a mountain and behind that mountain still another and beyond those, more: a cantata, a whole range of voices announcing to the creation the voice on the mountain is the voice of God © 2024 Andrew Kooman