Under a Red Roof

The Brothers Bloom

August 14, 2009 in Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | Permalink

I lead a very privileged life. The kind that makes me want to shout from the rooftops in ecstatic joy at all I have: a perfect-for-me husband who is as handsome as can be, a great circle family and friends, a lovely home, cute and cuddly cats, and cinematic gems like The Brothers Bloom.

It’s the variety of story that made me fall in love with the art of film making in the first place: beautiful cinematography and that magical combination of wit, suspense, humor, and yearning. It doesn’t hurt that one of my long-standing movie star crushes, Mark Ruffalo, plays one of the leads, or that people fall in love, either. I’m a big fan of love, but I think you knew that already.

The Brothers Bloom are con men from way back, childhood, in fact, weaving the quite literary Stephen’s droll tales into brilliant, theatrical cons of world renown. The problem, as there always is one, is that Bloom, Stephen’s sensitive younger brother, has never liked the game and wants out, for good. This isn’t the man he wants to be. Longing to write the story of his own life, he leaves Stephen and their pyrotechnic expert of a side kick Bang Bang to be alone. They find him months later and convince him to do one last con.

What ensues is a sweet, tender, hilarious, and nail-biting adventure as Stephen, Bloom, and Bang Bang engage the naive and wise hobby-collecting Penelope. Globe trotting, the story grows more complex and unpredictable, as Bloom falls hard for Penelope, and the brothers are threatened by their former teacher and arch nemesis, The Diamond Dog. It had me on the edge of my seat, in delight and trepidation, wondering just who was conning whom.

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August 13, 2009 in Quoting by Colleen | 1 comment

Whatever the eye sees, the heart will not forget.

Armenian Proverb

Raining…

August 12, 2009 in Celebrating, Decorating, Gardening + Nature, Receiving by Colleen | Permalink

After what seemed an interminable twenty-eight days without rain, of living in a vastly foreign version of Portland, the skies finally opened up. I was watching television yesterday afternoon when I was hit by one of the most glorious scents – the first drops of rain hitting pavement – wafting through the air. At last!

Thankfully, the the initially fleeting sprinkles were only a preview of what was to come. As the hubster and I ventured out to the show, as my Grandma Frances would say, to take in The Brothers Bloom (more about that on Friday) on two-for-Tuesday night at our very favorite movie house, The Academy (two movie tickets + popcorn + Reese’s Pieces + hard cider for the hubster + tip = $16!), the rain began again. By the time we arrived at the theater, the drops had grown larger, more certain of themselves.

Much to my delight, the rain held steady through the gorgeous film, the tarred roads puddle filled and shimmering with moisture in the evening light. At bed time, the gentle patter of drops on the tin shed roof lulled me into sweet slumber. Thankfully, the rain has yet to cease, the sky a radiant combination of sun, cloud, and brilliant blue. Portland, no longer foreign, is home again.

Secret Garden

August 11, 2009 in Being, Feeling, Gardening + Nature, Quoting by Colleen | 2 comments

Yesterday was a great day. I felt the strongest I have had since my surgery. Feeling rather invigorated, I walked around the block twice without any discomfort and lifted some light weights. I could even shimmy well enough that I decided I would be fit to drive today. It didn’t matter where – the grocery store, lunch, anywhere. I was determined to get in the car and G-O. Too bad my body had other plans, for, despite a very good night’s sleep and a lovely bath this morning, I am exhausted, mentally and physically. I can only stand for brief periods without feeling woozy, and my large incision feels as though someone has taken a rather dull needle to sew it up again. On top of that, even though my narcotics consumption is limited to one pain pill when I go to bed, my mind is very much like mush. What the heck happened?

Then I saw all the splendor out in the garden and came upon this quotation by Ben Okri:

“Don’t depair too much if you see beautiful things destroyed. Because the best things are always growing in secret.” Suddenly, I felt better. Not like I could drive or miraculously be pain free, but lighter in spirit, because I know this is true.

For those of you who haven’t visited our red roofed house, we have an old fence surrounding the back yard, nearing the end of it’s life in several places. Next to this fence is the rocky area where we park the Subaru and, despite our best efforts, cultivate many species of dandelion, clover, and vetch. I am the first to admit that it isn’t the prettiest sight to see. But duck under the low apple branches and open the gate and there is loveliness in every corner: flowers blooming, food growing, birds chirping, and bees zooming.

Then I thought of my own precious body and the secrets it’s keeping from me, even when I feel destroyed. It is healing and growing in its own time and its own way. I need only patiently wait, and all will be revealed.

Thanks for the Memories…

August 7, 2009 in Remembering, Spotlighting, Watching by Colleen | 1 comment

Writer and director John Hughes died yesterday. He had a heart attack while out walking in his Manhattan neighborhood. I hope that there was some comfort to that, in walking around the city that is home, dying surrounded by the familiar. If I were able to choose, I think that would be a pretty good way to go, don’t you? Then there is the enviable way that Nico died, while out riding her bicycle. I wonder if she was singing, when suddenly it felt like she was flying, E.T. style, out of the beautiful day to day and into the sweet hereafter. Until it is our time, I suppose we’ll never know.

I am digressing, however, for this post isn’t about dying or flying, but the films of John Hughes. Boy did I love his movies! When I originally started writing this post, I included details from my favorites and why they were so special, but that somehow tainted the magic of the stories I return to again and again. So instead, I leave you with my favorites (one might surprise you!) and your own precious memories to conjure…