The Miserables

We dined on movie theatre pizza washed down with a side of popcorn and coke. Don't think we covered any known food groups in the process, but it was a necessary evil if we wanted to catch an early flick after work, and before my bedtime. 

Hubby agreed to see Les Miserables with me -- or as he calls it -- "The Miserables". He thinks the French pronunciation sounds pretentious...  It was a big deal to get him out to this movie (even though it was pay back for The Hobbit) as he despises musicals, when, as he puts it, actors suddenly burst into song "for no apparent reason". He persevered and even I couldn't contain my giggles at one point when they "suddenly burst into song for no apparent reason". I swear I saw him tapping his foot or perhaps it was just an uncomfortable twitch.

The movie was as triumphant as the stage production - yielding tears, gasps, the occasional laugh via the comedic relief, and more tears. The tale is a tragedy of mammoth proportion; a story of love, forgiveness, and devotion. The music was simply wonderful - large and inspiring and the acting was superb. Hugh Jackman carried the film and Anne Hathaway's performance was epic. Shall I go on? Can you tell I enjoyed the film -- enough to bellow out the main theme song in the theatre parking lot (mainly to irk hubby).

Sitting now by the fire with my crazy schnauzer curled up at my feet, I'd say that it's been the perfect close to the week. And I am feeling anything but miserable.

"Take my love. For love is everlasting. And remember. The truth that once was spoken. To love another person. Is to see the face of God."   lyrics from Les Miserable finale

Pain and Pride

The week was fully devoured.

It's been a while.

This arm and shoulder of mine, the pain in which had me fantasizing about amputation, has been keeping me busy with physiotherapy and massage. The therapists at the torture chamber clinic are full of energy, enthusiasm and sweetness and they have hands that work magic and provide relief. As I lay face down with my face mashed into the crisp linen of the massage table, having my shoulder worked over like pizza dough, trying to suppress the spontaneous giggles that erupt when she presses my "laughing buttons", I can't help but feel like a pre-owned vehicle whose miles are beginning to show. I have work to do - things that involve broom handles and pulleys - but I know that the day will come when I am pain free and ready to rumble. In the meantime I search for the lessons to be learned and am, if nothing else, humbled and grateful for my health insurance!

 

Director daughter explaining the White Ribbon Campaign

The week was not all about pain; it delivered a healthy dose of pride too. My daughter Harmony produced and directed her first production for VDay: A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant and A Prayer. It was a fundraiser for the White Ribbon Campaign to help end violence against women. The whole tribe turned out to the funky little cabaret venue smack dab in the city's gay area. I helped myself to the extra strength condoms from the jar in the bathroom -- just kidding -- I just photographed them as I commended the efforts to thwart the HIV/AIDS epidemic. As directed by my bossy director daughter, my sister and I sat in the vacant front row - to give the actors someone to play off. Each monologue was delivered with the kind of passion and authenticity that makes you squirm uncomfortably in your seat while your eyes stay locked on the performance unraveling just a few feet away. Violence and rape are disturbing topics and the play tackled them both with raw honesty. As Harmony took to the stage to emotionally explain the WRC and thank everyone for turning out, I could feel mama's pride welling up inside me.

And my wish is the same for each of those wondrous spirits - my girls: that they may cultivate joy in their lives and find their passion and purpose.

It was a full week, and I devoured every morsel and crumb. Next post: how to walk off those extra crumbs and pounds!

Bathroom freebies - I'm all for prevention.

Moving monologue delivered tears.

Ruined

Photo from Obsidian Theatre Company

Ruined. Maybe it was a little ominous sounding for a festive night out with Adventure Girl to celebrate Tender Heart's  birthday. But needless to say we happily traipsed into Toronto to see  Obsidian Theatre's production of Ruined. I had been anticipating seeing this play for almost a year but I wasn't sure how much my gal pals knew about the subject of the story. A few hours before we were scheduled to meet, I cut and pasted some information about fistula and the Panzi Hospital into an email and sent it off to them.

The play is set in a humble shack of a bar in a small mining town in the Congo. Women rule the stage in this production and from the first moment the lights dropped and the drumming began, my heart pounded just a little quicker. From our second row seats in the intimate theatre we sat - eyes transfixed on the mosaic, textures and shades of fierce femininity that unfolded  - mesmerized by the slow, deliberate reveal. There were moments of shock and awe - mentions of  ways in which women have been, and are violated - so horrific that the air is sucked from your lungs when you heard the words. The pit of anxiety that is formed from the first appearance of the shunned, shattered girls in tattered rags continues to swell with each layer of conflict and hopelessness. We learn what "ruined" means ... and how these violent crimes and acts of war raged upon women's bodies are intended to break the spirit and destroy the very fabric of the family and community.

As I watched, the whole while trying to contain the waterworks, my mind drifted to my Sudan sister from Women for Women International and to the horrors she has experienced. Hurts felt by our sisters are felt by all women. There is a kindred thread that binds us together.Ruined is a story of the phoenix rising from ashes with a display of unfailing human resilience that is blinding. Or maybe it was those tears ....

Wordless Wednesday - Brush With LIfe

How Art Thou

My friend is going to kill me but I can't resist posting one of her first second artistic creations. She is one of those people who wants to do and try everything. We were teasing her at dinner the other night that she has taken every course offered at the community college. She protested that no she hadn't -- only sewing. photography, floral arranging etc etc. She learned to fly. She loves to boat. She took a horseback riding vacation in the Canadian Rockies and a safari to Kenya. She skies, golfs and fishes. She cooks, decorates and can keep the books. She has an insatiable thirst for knowing and a desire to do. She can be a handful on vacation with her boundless energy and "every ready" attitude - especially for a bookworm like me.

So it only makes sense that she is taking a painting course. It's an uncharted creative territory for her. She said she is finding it relaxing .... (her relaxing? THAT's a picture!) She is what I call a life long learner. The reason I am blogging about her I suppose is that she is an inspiration to me. She reminds me to see things in fresh and new ways and like my father, she is has a keen interest in virtually everything.

And although her second attempt at painting a canvas may not be a Monet, it represents the spirit of trying and perseverance. And I believe she will prevail.

Update: Apparently her most recent work is her interpretation of "The Scream" -- now THAT will be a scream! (All in good fun my friend)