the upside of sick

Being home sick means I get to catch up on my huge pile of want-to-see movies, and flesh out in my head the kind of films I want to make and don't want to make. And whether shite or brilliant, I do always learn something about filmmaking, if only how not to do it.

I tend to give rom coms a chance because there is a handful of movies from that category that has surprised me very pleasantly. But this time I wasn't lucky with the rom coms. One I had to shut down after 15 excruciating minutes (I'm not even going to tell you what it was it's that embarrassingly dumb). But that happens and you have to cut your losses and turn them off before your brain shrivels up. And the other one, The Decoy Bride, I probably would have turned off had it not been for Kelly Macdonald who is always a pleasure to watch. But the writing was not up to par, neither was the directing, and, sadly, David Tennant who I usually love apparently phoned it in that day.

But I've been quite lucky in my other picks this past week. I've not picked a single fantasy or sci fi movie, I guess because I usually watch those with Finn Porter. Instead I went straight for those lovely slightly-indie-but-with-a-reasonably-known-cast films that she rarely goes for.

I watched the Four-Faced Liar (very indie), One Day (a lot more Hollywood), Last Night, and Like Crazy. The only one veering from the theme I inadvertently had going on there was The Descendants, which was oddly also the movie I least liked. I'd sum it up as Alexander Payne doing the same thing he did years ago in About Schmidt, with different actors and in a different landscape. Otherwise his imagery remains completely unchanged which I see as a lack of development. Sure, it's great to have a trademark as an artist but you'd want to develop your style further, no?

But the other films have all touched me in some way, in ways pertaining to relationships. The Four-Faced Liar and Last Night both deal with betrayal and lies - but in completely different way. One is loud and crazy and funny in between the drama while the other has a quiet intensity that I found riveting.

Like Crazy has a bit of both; it's quirky and odd in this indie kind of way that everyone finds adorable (think Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist), but can also be quiet and intense and in those quiet moments excelling in music choice and cinematography. One Day is maybe a bit heavy on the drama but its very distinct style of telling the story makes up for that from a learning perspective, and I'd be lying if I said the romance didn't get to me.

I find myself drawn to these perceptive, grown-up films that deal with grown up relationships and their issues, and don't claim to have the answers; Movies that end with an intake of breath instead of an exhale. When I say I don't particularly like happy endings in movies I don't mean I like bad endings. Life generally come with neither, not that distinctly in any way. I like to be kept guessing, because that's what's inspiring.

I regard it as such a privilege when I get to watch a film that really speaks to something inside of me and especially Last Night and Like Crazy have done exactly that. Three hours very well spent, and I am grateful for that.

Now, what next? I'm almost scared I could break this lucky streak of movie choices.

you are how much you love - pt 1

I've been more or less staring at this empty blog post page for hours now. I have been doing other things in between of course, I am ADHD after all. But this has been open at the back of my browser and the back of my mind. I want to write about it but it's not easy. It's rather complicated because I am only in the process of figuring it out. Which is why I want to write about it. Hello, vicious circle, nice to meet you - again.

The hardest part is probably that I am somewhat scared of judgement this time. Which is funny since I talk openly about depression, my ADHD and my bisexuality which is in the process of morphing into multisexuality (think Jack Harkness minus the aliens). I have never ever been afraid of backlash or judgement regarding these parts of me. But this one... it's tough because it's a topic that might touch some people deep down at their core values and possibly even offend them much like some people are offended by gay marriage. Is that okay? Definitely not. But it's something that - even if they are not attacked nor affected by it - people might want to take a stand about. And it's something, I think, only a few people will be able to handle without judgement - be it uttered aloud or not. You might accept me through all my crazy and queer but what I'm going to tell you next might just be a bit too much to handle. I say might. Because, of course, I hope.

But here goes.
(I just had to take a fucking deep breath.)

I do not believe in monogamy.
I do not believe that love is finite.
I believe in compersion (more on that further along probably in another blog post but you can find some stuff about it on wikipedia).
I believe that even if it might not take a village to raise children, in the end a bunch of people loving them and being there and available for them might just be the most perfect thing in the world.

I believe (though I have no way of knowing for certain) that I am indeed polyamorous.

This is not the throwaway line of the cheater claiming that "humans aren't made for monogamy" to still their fighting conscience.
It isn't an excuse to just "shag around" a bit when marriage becomes boring.

Funny, I don't actually believe in swinging. I realise I might be influenced by the image of a bored 50ies married couple fooling around with the neighbours and people group shagging to the backdrop of some impeccably ugly 70ies wallpaper. Whatever the reason, it seems a bit ghastly to me to go and meet a couple with the purpose of exchanging bodily fluids. Or, gods forbid, even go to a club where couples gaze demurely at other couples with the distinctive plan of picking something that strikes their fancy, much like you would chose the prettiest grape from the fruit bowl and pop it in your mouth.

It is not about sex.
It's not about fucking around.
It's about love. (Go on, call me cheesy, I know you want to.)

And it's something my life circles back to again and again.

When I was 16 I loved my boyfriend and I loved my best friend. And I didn't see much of a difference between those loves except I was having socially accepted sex with only one of them.

When I was about 19 my friends and I were quite open with one another. Relationships were more fluid than ever before or afterwards. It came with the partying and the utter absence of a readiness to settle down, I guess. With some people it was just about sex but there was a tightly knit group of people that actually loved each other. Naturally, we had no idea what we were doing and experimented the hell out of it. It was a damn sloppy mess and people got hurt in the process. And then we grew up and apart and returned to monogamy, mostly.

Since then about eight years have passed and for six of them I've been in the most serious relationship of my life. But polyamory has been on my mind. We got married last year. And still polyamory is on my mind. It's not a constant presence but it has been part of my inner conversation on and off again.
I am not currently in a polyamorous relationship. I am probably in what one might consider an open relationship but we find we still lack the words to properly describe this work in progress. It is definitely not monogamy. But it's a theoretical non-monogamy. And I'm fine with that because we just haven't met the right people yet. But at some point, I want to take it from concept to tangible.

Since this is running quite long already, I've decided to do this in two parts (at least). You just read pt 1. Now stay tuned for pt 2. In wich I will take you along on my little polyamorous daydream.

And please, please, my dearest lurkers - I know you're out there - this would be a good time to come out of hiding and give me some fucking feedback because I'm scared shitless about this as is :)

Happy Anniversary, Honey!

Six Years. Seventy-two months. A little over 313 weeks. 2191 and one half day. Since we were both 21 years old. Since when we were both still in university. Since when my hair was really short and the red always washed out and turned to candy floss pink within a week. Since when my teeth were crooked because I had just gotten my braces. Since five pairs of glasses ago (two of them yours, three mine). Since two flats ago. Also four deaths ago. But also two adorable bunnies ago. Three social networks ago. About nine jobs ago. An uncountable number of email addresses ago. I reckon about four mobile carriers ago. Three bikes and one car ago. Two depressions and two burn outs ago. A bunch of fights ago. About one hundred life-altering talks ago. Zero break-ups ago. Fairly few hangovers ago. Quitting smoking twice ago. An inordinate number of video games ago. Tons of books and newly discovered artists ago. Six iPods ago. I don't know how many Windows computers ago but definitely two Macs ago. Four proper vacations and three dog-sitting retreats ago. Not enough photographs ago. A gazillion of I love you's ago. That's how long we've been together. That's when I fell in love with you. No, actually, I fell long before that.

The numbers of friends lost and gained pretty much even each other out. So do the good and the bad days. That's okay. Because you get me.

I've never been in a relationship this long before. I honestly never thought I would be, because who'd be able to bear me this long? Well, apparently you are. I don't know how you do it because I know I can be a handful. But I guess so can you, and that's another thing that gets evened out. Balance.

It's not that we complete each other – we each have to do that for ourselves, and that's a good thing – it's that we understand each other, even in the most outlandish things. Sure, basic communication is not our thing but it only seems to be an issue in the trivial things and discussions. When it comes to the important stuff we do alright I think. We broke each other, in a healing way, and put each other back together again.

You take on the things around the house which I absolutely hate to do. I made you a cheesy anniversary video and you wrote me a wonderful love letter. You bought me a bike, and I built you a bar. You introduced me to Buffy and M.A.S.H. and I still haven't made you watch The Sound of Music (it's hilarious, really!). I got you to read the Harry Potter books and now you're obsessed with them. We played Splinter Cell: Conviction together and nothing hones your communication skills like stealthing and shooting your way through a room together.

I buy you more cameras than you can use and always overfill the fridge. You get me organised and make the dirt in our apartment go away. I make you put lotion on your elbows. You get up early, I go to bed late. When I studied for my final exam we barely saw each other. I have a hard time falling asleep without you, you prefer to not sleep at all when I'm not home. This is probably why we've spent only approximately a cumulative fortnight apart in the past six years. You got me through my fucking thesis and stood by me even thought I know you wanted to strangle me half the time. You brought me chocolate (which made me fat, but that's not your fault) and cooked me dinner and helped me focus when I freaked. You stayed up with me all night to add last minute changes and corrections. You believed in me when I wanted to quit my jobs and become a storyteller. You believe in me much more than I do myself and that's a good thing because I'm busy believing in you when you don't.

I love that about you, that you believe in my like no one else. I love that we can be really stupid together and talk in idiotic sentences and made-up words. I love that we can laugh until we're in stitches. I love that you damn well know how to use all those cute facial expressions that you can make, especially when I'm actually trying to stay mad at you. I love that you reconsidered having kids because of me. I love that you are my family. I love you.

our antebellum innocence was never meant to see the light of our armistice day

My wife deals with things through music, while I am writing. We still get each other. And our living room is wonderful enough to house both.

We've been having a bit of a hard time lately.
But I truly believe that we're going to be fine.
Yet her blasting Vienna Teng's Antebellum just now seems very fitting.