I’ve been invited to eat and to enjoy a night of games with wonderful friends Kris, Steve and Nancy. We’re getting together on Saturday night. I can hardly wait.
Thursday, as predicted, was another glorious day. When I got home from dropping Sheba off for her grooming session with Sara, I started cleaning up the front lawn. Now that it has been cleaned up, only the backyard and edible garden area remain to be done—plus all the gardens must be cleaned and tidied.
My tuned-up pacemaker is clearly working well. I have the energy I need to do the work, but I rest after every hour of exertion because I’m so bloody old. I need to rest because my back gets so sore from raking. The constant bending to pick things up really bothers my lumbar region. But oh, how much better Pinecone Park looks now. It makes me very happy to see my sanctuary looking like someone cares about this home and yard that I love so much.
I was outside working on the front yard from 11:30 until 4:00. No coat, no cool wind, no sweating; it was a perfect day. And I kept thinking about how none of the yard work that I’ve taken up in the past few days would have happened were I still involved with the Foundation. It is much more fun to be outdoors and doing yard work than it is to be at the computer writing and doing graphics.
When I finished the front yard, I cleaned the hot tub. Again, it felt very, very good to attend to a task that had long been ignored. Plus, I called the well maintenance people and arranged for my filters to be changed today. I earned my rest and relaxation time in front of the television last night after so productive a day.
I watched the movie, Close, last night. I got it on pay TV. It’s a Belgian film. The characters speak in French. To my taste, it is a perfect film. It’s an exquisite film in every way. The lead is on screen almost all the time. The film is his story; he’s 12 years old. The actor is believable in every frame. He does an extraordinary job. The story is gripping.
What I really liked about the film, though, is the editing. They are harsh, in-your-face edits. There are no teases in the dialogue either, no verbal leads into the next scene or time. Very suddenly we’re in another scene, always carrying the action forward. The way it’s edited, affects how we take in the story. The hard edits are jerky, and by the end of the incredibly poignant film, as I thought about the edits, I thought of a mother, curled up on the couch with her child, and she’s got a stack of photographs that she’s showing the child.
That’s how the film hits me, the scenes feel like photographs in an album. And we fill in the gaps, we are engaged by the film as we orient ourselves in the new scene. I really liked it.
The remarkable young lad who plays, Leo, is radiantly beautiful. He has enormous and expressive eyes and, of course, a very smooth complexion. The character is 12 years old. The camera is constantly on his face. He’s Tadzio, in Death in Venice. He’s brilliant, everybody’s brilliant, the writing is brilliant.
A commandment of good character development is, “show, don’t tell.” Close struck me as particularly well written.