|The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.)||The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.)||The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.)|
Frankly, my dear.
Later that very same afternoon...
I just got off the phone with Sophistica during which she shared information in that crazy veering way of hers. I love that woman. We'll likely have dinner with her this evening, Max and I.
I have done nothing with my day, children, except lie around and read a biography of Carrington, the artist, played, of course, by what's-her-name-Kenneth Branaugh's ex-wife--in the movie of the book of the life. I'm very interested in her relationship with Lytton Starchey (I'm fairly sure I'm spelling that incorrectly).
Yesterday, I had the second meeting of my Japanese literature in translation class. We're reading a translation of the Tale of Genji. The professor is very into anime, so we also watched an anime version of the novel. The class is three hours long which makes things like this possible. I was very struck by the anime--not because it was particularly striking, but because this was the first time that I ever read something in English, then saw the movie version in its original language as envisioned by someone from the original culture. I don't know if I'm explaining it so that it is understandable, but what I am trying to say is that, when my American-ness can't get in the way (or doesn't get in the way) my view of an event, book, etc. is very different that when it can. Does this make any sense? I suppose it would be something like seeing Gone With the Wind if the Japanese had made it into a movie...Scarlet O'Hara as a geisha fallen on hard luck, Rhett as some salaryman...? Oh, I don't know, kids. All I know is that my boring little life is ebbing away. My headache grows hourly.