↑

Archive of ‘movies’ category

blog, friends, movies, yoga | 0 comment

Rush to Last Days of Summer

After making half a dozen plans to see Harry Potter 7.2, my Mum, Angela and I finally made it to the theaters. It was incredible!!! I can’t believe that there will be no year-long wait for the next film, that this really is the end. How strange it is that kids nowadays can just pick up the books and read them one after the other? The anticipation before the release of each book and movie was so intense, and made me savor every word. I suppose there will never be another world like Harry Potter, and that’s just fine by me. I don’t mind reading the books another dozen time (honest! I have them on audiobook and have probably read each more than a handful of times).

I decided that versus writing about yoga 3 times a week on my Lyme blog, which I feared might bore some of you, I created a blog about Yoga entitled “8 Limbs, 1 Chair” (referring to the 8 branches that make up yoga!). I am very excited to begin recording my thoughts after each practice, and to document my journey and improvements. Michelle has created some chair yoga videos, and I would encourage those you in wheelchair, or with limited mobility to give it a try. You just might surprise yourself. I am improving already; my arms and legs raise higher and with greater ease and assured movement, my breaths are deeper and come more naturally. Has it been two weeks? Hardly, because the teachers were away 2 weeks ago on a retreat. I practice on my own almost every day, if not the asana (poses/positions), than the 3 part breathing exercises and the meditation. Please check out my new blog and hopefully I can inspire you to try yoga yourself!

memories, movies, not sticking your head in the sand | 1 Comment

Fireworks, my Lumax and a Proverbial Ostrich

Ew, 2009! That officially makes me OLD (ha!) and about to graduate, or in a year. I mean it looks way closer than it ever has before. And it’s never looked this far away.

I can’t wait to get home. I know it’s true. I say it all the time, and yet, I think, what happens when I get home? What happens when I see, up close, the life I used to know going on at a ridiculously fast pace, leaving me behind. Leaving me further and further behind. I want to know when I will begin to remember things again. A fortnight or perhaps just a month? I shudder to even imagine, a year? I want it to be the future already and I know, with so much certainty, that I’m gonna run hard, and learn new stuff. There’s a reason they say that we’re always learning, like it or not (besides being true); it’s ’cause without constantly learning, life feels a waste. Now I read, but glean nothing. Now I listen, and it’s in one ear and out the other, literally. Now I play music I’ve had for months, but each time I play it I am sight reading. 
I hate to harp on about the memory loss thing. In my defense, I don’t really remember writing about it a lot, so it feels new. But I want to be wholly honest when I write everything. I want this to be just exactly what I’m thinking, as it falls from my mind. I’m keeping it real. Ohh I feel so scattered…is any of this making sense? 
If you lived, but had no memories of living, couldn’t call on your mind or trust it, you’d make it a focal point too. 
I take pictures. It’s how I deal. I take pictures of the lame and boring details that you don’t have to take pictures of. There are photos on the walls here, most 8 x 11 ‘s of my favorite places, flowers, colors. And a collage. And some leaves are strung up on the wall. And dried flowers…gah…I’m falling off topic. I take movies too. 
Simple movies. I just turn around as far as I can, and pan back to the far side of my field of vision, just to capture everything as it was, as it breathed. Sometimes when I watch them I get angry at the betrayal of my temporal lobe. It’s hard to hate an inseparable part of yourself. But mostly, or when I’m feeling patient and reflective, they don’t make me angry, just curious. 
There shall be no sticking of the head in the proverbial and aforementioned sand. Which is why I take pictures really, because, “An ostrich with its head in the sand is just as blind to opportunity as to disaster”.  
%d bloggers like this: