Hi everyone, I know that I’m behind on my nominations posts (one should be coming tomorrow, I meant to be writing it now, but I forgot my notebook and I’m at work and technology hates me today and I’m tired…)
OK, enough whining, especially because, although I am tired. It’s because I actually had a weekend this weekend. Actually, I had the equivalent of like three weekends for me. This was mostly possible, because I didn’t have to work on Saturday (thank you Austin Seminary’s strange academic calendar), and because I did almost none of the homework I meant to do. (Which has made the last two days really fun and not at all stressful.)
Anyway, the adventures started with a happy hour (because I’m in grad school), this one was hosted by the Association of Moving Image Archivists student chapter here at UT. I’m not really planning on being a film archivist, but I do really love movies (as I hope you can tell by now), so I tagged along because they were going to a screening of Paris, Texas hosted by the Austin Film Society.
I’ve been on the AFS e-mail list for a long time, but their theater is a little tough to get to without a car, and I didn’t know until AMIA let me know that I can get free tickets to their screenings as a student. (More info on there here.) Well, this was a great first screening to catch. I didn’t know anything about the movie going in (I have a lot of film geek blindspots to address), and I got totally swept away in its beauty and its heart. Harry Dean Stanton is magnificent both chilling and childlike and lovely and awful all at the same time. I’m not going to write a full review, but if you ever want to talk about this with me please let me know, because I have a lot of thoughts.
On Saturday I did get some work done, but I also, binge watched the entire first season of You’re The Worst.
It’s strange and dark and delightful and funny. It’s a romantic comedy about just truly awful people, that have just enough self-awareness and charm to make them likable in a twisted way. Not for the easily offended, but well worth a watch.
That night I met a bunch of my favorite people out on Rainey Street. We started at Clive Bar and ended at our secret wine bar. It isn’t really a secret, but I’m still not going to tell you where it is. Every time I go there it feels warm and lovely. And I drink too much. Here are some pictures I took that I haven’t already shared on social media:
This was like attempt 6, you can tell my face is tired from the look in my eyes. A much cuter version is now my profile pic on Facebook. I’m sharing this was mostly for the blurry-Taylor photobomb.
As I’m sure you can judge from that last picture, the less said about I felt on Sunday morning the better.
But that afternoon I went to a Super Bowl party. Despite really loving football, I couldn’t bring myself to care at all about the outcome of this game, but I loved the halftime show. And, more importantly, the party was also a birthday party for a dog:
Miró and I ducked out after half time (and birthday cake), because we had tickets to an event. It was called Monkey Town 6, it is very hard to describe. The simplest way to try is to say that it’s an art show. Sort of. It’s a collection of video art pieces projected on a cube. Guests sit inside the cube and are fed gourmet food. There are also dancers. I’m making it sound strange. And it is, but it was also lovely.
A view of the cube from the outside. Piece currently playing is “Central Park Quilts” by Theo Angell
I’ve never been a huge fan of video art. We were talking after the show that the only place you encounter it is tucked away in corners in contemporary art museums. I always try to give those pieces a shot, and a few times I’ve been rewarded with something interesting or beautiful. But it’s hard, you never know how far into the piece you’ve walked in at the right time or you can hear everyone around you in the gallery or you are just awkwardly hovering waiting for a chance to sit down.
What was great about this was that it forced me to forget all that. I was literally immersed in an environment where I had to just stop trying to figure out the pieces and sort of let them wash over me. Some of the pieces were wonderful, some weren’t for me, some I couldn’t process enough to decide if they were for me or not, but they were all interesting. And it helped me put a finger on what I had found frustrating about this genre in the past. I kept waiting for these to feel like movies or at least like art films I’m familiar with, but really they’re more like poems than anything more straightforward and narrative. And I love poems, so once I thought of these as visual poetry I was totally in.
Also, the food was great.