Spell-check, People!

 

 

The other day I was looking for a local business to print some photos from negatives.

 

Now – before I get too deep, let me say that yes, I am someone who still has negatives from the days of film cameras. In fact, I still own film cameras and occasionally use them. And I treat that film like gold. Because it’s just that precious. But I digress…

 

Like I said, I was searching online for a local business equipped to make photo prints from negatives. I found a well-reviewed joint and started studying their website. And that’s when my head nearly exploded and I had to have a cool drink while walking around the block, just to recover from what I’d seen. The well-reviewed establishment was ready to provide “diggital prints” from “nagative” or slides. The site went on to read “glossy is available upon reguested” and that they “are a full service.” Full service what, I couldn’t tell you, as that bit of info was not provided.

 

I don’t mean to be all grammar-police-y. I don’t mean to even notice misspelled words and poor grammar. It just happens. In fact, sometimes when I read a news story with excellent grammar and correctly spelled words, I’m so taken by the professionalism of the piece that I miss the content entirely and have to read it a second time, just to focus on the information provided and not on the writing itself. This isn’t about some superiority trip. It’s kind of a curse, if you must know.

 

Anyhoo, after my head nearly exploded, I looked for another service provider. I mean, if you can’t even be bothered to click spell-check people, why on earth would I think you’d be capable of doing a good job?

 

You wouldn’t. Be capable, I mean. But that’s okay. Because there’s always some other business, ready to take my money. Here’s hoping nothing’s misspelled on my receipt.

Still

 

 

I’ve been married to Mister a long time. A long time, y’all. And as much as I can predict certain behaviors or statements, that guy can surprise me still.

 

This past weekend, for example, he asked if I wanted to go see a movie. I said sure. It never occurred to me to ask which movie. I just agreed. So at an appointed time, to the movies we went. We found our assigned seats and I still didn’t think to ask about what the heck we were there to see. A chatty lady took the seat beside me, asked if I’d read the book, and I said no. I didn’t tell her I had no idea if I’d read the book or not, as I didn’t have a clue what we were about to watch. The previews began and the chatty lady quieted down. I got comfortable and looked at the screen.

 

Room” is the movie we saw and it was amazing. The story, the acting – all are top-notch. If you’re thinking of seeing it yourself, maybe check into it a bit (unlike me) and get a general idea of what you’re in for. I can tell you this much: I would not have chosen to read that book, nor would I have elected to see the movie – given my druthers.

 

As much as I know Mister, he knows the same about me. Had he asked if I wanted to see a movie about a woman in captivity, held there with a child of rape, I surely would have sprouted a second head out of my neck and stared at him with such ferocity as to burn his retinas. But he knew better than to ask. And, I suppose, he also knew he could get away with not having to give me any details about our outing. Regardless of how this may seem, he wasn’t taking advantage. The guy had done his research and knew that if I gave this movie a chance, I’d appreciate it. He was completely right about that and I did indeed love this little film.

 

The fact that someone so familiar can still surprise me is inspiring. I don’t merely love Mister. I happen to really like him. A lot. He’s my favorite person and I am beyond grateful for getting to ride the waves of life by his side. Still. After all these years. And being surprised by the guy is such a bonus! I mean – I wish I could convey the joy, the feelings, but it’s all so big and beyond my capacity for words.

 

As we were leaving the theater, we saw the gi-normous “Hunger Games” wall display partially shown above. I asked him to take my photo with it, and he said sure. He didn’t understand why I chose a particular place to stand, nor did he understand why I wrapped my scarf around my hands as if it were a weapon. And then he got it, and laughed. I surprise him sometimes, too. Still. And that’s pretty freakin’ beautiful.

“The Salt of the Earth”

 

 

The other night Mister and I watched an amazing documentary made by Wim Wenders. And when I say amazing, I mean amazing, y’all.

 

The film is called “The Salt of the Earth” and photographer Sebastião Salgado is the focus. His work spans some 40-odd years and is phenomenal in and of itself. But the film goes beyond his photography and covers his family’s conservation work as well. To hear his stories and see his work is a gift. And I won’t lie – some of it is uncomfortable. For while Mr. Salgado has documented earth’s beauty, he has also covered human tragedies and devastation. More than once, I found myself tearing up.

 

Without giving anything away, I do want to tell you that one tear-filled moment was just lovely. A part of the film caught me by surprise and wowed me in the best way. So not only is this documentary stirring for its darkness, but also for its light.

 

I highly recommend seeing “The Salt of the Earth” and I really hope you do. Salgado’s work is reason enough. His life puts it over the top.

Ready for the Big Dance

 

 

Mister and I have now seen all 8 of the Best Picture Oscar nominees. It wasn’t as difficult as in some years past, but it wasn’t a cakewalk either.

 

Looking at the titles of the nominees, I’m okay with these choices. (I am not always okay with the choices, y’all.) That being said, I’m thinking only a couple of these flicks are in real contention for the coveted award. And I hope – as I always do – that the winner will deserve the Oscar because it is truly the best picture, and not simply be handed the statue because of some political crap.

 

Anyhoo, I haven’t yet filled out my ballot sheet for the big dance, but I will. Soon. Seeing the danged movies is the real task. I can hardly believe we’re through them all – with a month to go before the show. If you’re an Oscars junkie and have feelings about your own top choice for top marks, let me know. I’d love to hear which is your fave flick!

 

 

D-Squared T-Squared – Week 40

 

 

I’ve shared a couple of these photos already, but as they’re part of the “good” shots I got in London, I’m sharing again.

 

 

I love photography. I love the work of people who are adeptly skilled at its finer nuances and I love the lucky snaps that any random person may snag. It really is a numbers game for most of us. Personally, I have to take about a jillion photos to end up with a handful of pics I actually like.

 

 

All I can say is, thank goodness for digital cameras. Makes life a lot easier. And by easier, I mean cheaper than film.

Jiro

 

 

I love documentaries. The best ones move me, make me laugh, touch my heart and leave a well-appreciated impression on my movie psyche.

 

Mister and I recently watched “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” and I couldn’t be happier. This master sushi chef, born in 1925, is a true artist with an astounding life philosophy. Watching him speak about his job (which he began training for at the age of 10) causes one to stop breathing for a moment, just to take in the weight of his words. And then there’s the food. The food! Beautifully photographed and shot, the food images were frame-worthy. And they made me hungry. That’s why Mister and I headed out for a sushi dinner immediately after watching the film. And that, friends, was an excellent idea.

 

“Jiro Dreams of Sushi” is a wonderful documentary. It has depth and humor. So much life is shown in this film, I am certain it will stay with me for a long, long time. And if I ever make it back to Japan, I will definitely be making a reservation at Sukiyabashi Jiro, the 3-Michelin starred, 10-seat restaurant owned and operated by Jiro Ono. For this gal now dreams of sushi, thanks to Jiro.

“Beasts of the Southern Wild”

 

 

I went to see a film screening last night and wow! I didn’t know what to expect, as I knew so little about this film. Now that I’ve seen it, I don’t know what to say. It was loud. No, it was quiet. It was overpowering. But it wasn’t. It was gentle. I’m making a mess of this. Let me start again…

 

Tuesday evening, I attended a screening of “Beasts of the Southern Wild.” Later, at home, when I was falling asleep, I placed my hand over my heart and softly cried. I recognized I was caring for the child inside. I then began my nightly ritual of thanking God for at least 5 things from the day. I thanked God for “Beasts of the Southern Wild” – 5 times. That’s how much I appreciate this film. That’s how much it affected me. That’s how grateful I am for having seen this amazing art.

 

I can’t tell you if this is a movie for you or not. I only know that I pray “Hushpuppy” and “Wink” exist somewhere on this earthly plane, and are as real as can be. I also pray I never forget them.

 

Enough said.