انا سعيدة لان ساذهب الى مظاهرة الاحد
مساء مشيت مع ابني بجانب الحقل
انا احب النظر الى اشجار
اليوم ساعدت ام زوجي مع بنكها
Showing posts with label Oxford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oxford. Show all posts
Thursday, 3 September 2015
Friday, 24 April 2015
Disaster tourist in Oxford - Taste of Cherries by Abbas Kiarastami - Sitting on a kerb
Disaster tourist
I stood and looked up at the black burnt timbers of the one damaged section of the Randolph's roof. I wonder how long it will be before the structure is cool enough for a scaffolding roof to be put over it. When it rains the water will add to the water already poured in by the fire engines. I wouldn't like to be managing that building. Imagine the smell and the damp and the damage inside. My own house is quite complicated enough.
Taste of Cherries
Each time I watched further into the film, restarting from the beginning.
I found the pressurising attitude of the central character worrying. Was this representative of his internal problem? The soldier and even the birds rushed away from him. I don't know where to start with making comments. It's similar to engaging with a poem, the more I am in the zone of floating about with thoughts and memories, the more I could discuss any topic under the sun and relate it to or find it in the film. It would depend on the person I am talking with too and what they say.
I could give myself some sort of severe constraint in order to make myself write comments replying to my own self, based on and circling around the film. One small page of my note book, 3 words per line, fill each page, stick to one topic per page, keep going up til the tiny notebook is complete, then leave it, never to return. That sounds intransigent enough to produce results!
It's mulberries in the film anyway, so why put cherries in the title in English?
Kerb
I called my mother, she was in the car.
I told her 'I am your one and only daughter' when she wasn't quite sure who was calling her. Then she said I had sounded different, she hadn't recognised me, so I explained that I'd just finished work, so maybe that was it.
Then I sat down on a kerb, by a bike park. One or two people looked at me as if I were in trouble, but I wasn't, just chatting and listening carefully, blocking out the whole city.
My mother was looking on the bright side a little too much, so I said 'Things aren't 100%, are they?' which she agreed with. I could hear it in her voice.
I stood and looked up at the black burnt timbers of the one damaged section of the Randolph's roof. I wonder how long it will be before the structure is cool enough for a scaffolding roof to be put over it. When it rains the water will add to the water already poured in by the fire engines. I wouldn't like to be managing that building. Imagine the smell and the damp and the damage inside. My own house is quite complicated enough.
Taste of Cherries
Each time I watched further into the film, restarting from the beginning.
I found the pressurising attitude of the central character worrying. Was this representative of his internal problem? The soldier and even the birds rushed away from him. I don't know where to start with making comments. It's similar to engaging with a poem, the more I am in the zone of floating about with thoughts and memories, the more I could discuss any topic under the sun and relate it to or find it in the film. It would depend on the person I am talking with too and what they say.
I could give myself some sort of severe constraint in order to make myself write comments replying to my own self, based on and circling around the film. One small page of my note book, 3 words per line, fill each page, stick to one topic per page, keep going up til the tiny notebook is complete, then leave it, never to return. That sounds intransigent enough to produce results!
It's mulberries in the film anyway, so why put cherries in the title in English?
Kerb
I called my mother, she was in the car.
I told her 'I am your one and only daughter' when she wasn't quite sure who was calling her. Then she said I had sounded different, she hadn't recognised me, so I explained that I'd just finished work, so maybe that was it.
Then I sat down on a kerb, by a bike park. One or two people looked at me as if I were in trouble, but I wasn't, just chatting and listening carefully, blocking out the whole city.
My mother was looking on the bright side a little too much, so I said 'Things aren't 100%, are they?' which she agreed with. I could hear it in her voice.
Thursday, 10 July 2014
Between a film and a poetry workshop..
..I was able to phone my brother, father and mother. I leaned over a stone bridge in the sunshine, sat on a bench, sat on a wall, found a quiet street with another low wall to sit on. So lots f chatting and catching up until my phone ran out of power. I was probably speaking rather loudly but who cares, the traffic was doing its best to drown me out. My brother sounded as if he were underwater so w were repeating everything to eachother several times. I did say it would be better if we texted eachother.
My brother was on the Strand in London on his way to meeting a friend, my parents had just got back from a day of travel and excitement including lunch at The River Cottage. I asked my fatherctontell me exactly what they had eaten. The soup was celery with some little gooseberries included. My mother was on the sofa with her legs stretched out. I was with her when the phone died on me. I am sure she understood.
My brother was on the Strand in London on his way to meeting a friend, my parents had just got back from a day of travel and excitement including lunch at The River Cottage. I asked my fatherctontell me exactly what they had eaten. The soup was celery with some little gooseberries included. My mother was on the sofa with her legs stretched out. I was with her when the phone died on me. I am sure she understood.
Thursday, 3 July 2014
For everyone's inner engineer - conversation - Oxford
Here are 2 videos which my son T has just shown me:
Dyson - Air Multipliers and the blue balloon
Honda - The Cog sequence
He and I have discussed the summer, internships, travel to Scotland, money (all conversations get to money eventually), petrol, the tiring and unsuccessful trip to Henley to pick up his father this evening and a holiday invitation.
I typed out my cv this afternoon and gave it to the person I have wanted to give it to for months. So all in all a successful trip to Oxford for me this evening. Plus bumping into someone I know, who I bought a hot chocolate for. I hope it helps in some way. At least we can chat about stuff in an almost normal sort of way. He may be homeless, but I met him in better circumstances and we have mutual friends. His dog always recognises me and likes having his nose stroked.
Dyson - Air Multipliers and the blue balloon
Honda - The Cog sequence
He and I have discussed the summer, internships, travel to Scotland, money (all conversations get to money eventually), petrol, the tiring and unsuccessful trip to Henley to pick up his father this evening and a holiday invitation.
I typed out my cv this afternoon and gave it to the person I have wanted to give it to for months. So all in all a successful trip to Oxford for me this evening. Plus bumping into someone I know, who I bought a hot chocolate for. I hope it helps in some way. At least we can chat about stuff in an almost normal sort of way. He may be homeless, but I met him in better circumstances and we have mutual friends. His dog always recognises me and likes having his nose stroked.
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