Snowflakes and Mania Akbari
Friday night, as I was walking home from Nietzsche's, the snow was falling light and thin. So delicate and beautiful. I thought to myself, "I ought to blog about this." But I didn't.
Saturday night, I found myself walking from the bus stop, and again snowflakes fell silently, in slow motion, just as gorgeously as the night before. And I thought to myself, "Wow, I really ought to mention that in my LJ this time." But I didn't.
Then I popped in Ten (Abbas Kiarostami, 2002) this morning, and it was so wonderfully simple and human and incisive, I knew that I finally had something to blog about. I recommend that every woman and man on Earth see this film (with subtitles in the appropriate language, if necessary). It's a wonderful glimpse into the lives of human beings that is so devoid of artifice, it was hard to remember that it wasn't a documentary. This is my first Kiarostami film, and while watching the
I really hope my country doesn't start a war with Iran. I don't want any of those actors to die.
Saturday night, I found myself walking from the bus stop, and again snowflakes fell silently, in slow motion, just as gorgeously as the night before. And I thought to myself, "Wow, I really ought to mention that in my LJ this time." But I didn't.
Then I popped in Ten (Abbas Kiarostami, 2002) this morning, and it was so wonderfully simple and human and incisive, I knew that I finally had something to blog about. I recommend that every woman and man on Earth see this film (with subtitles in the appropriate language, if necessary). It's a wonderful glimpse into the lives of human beings that is so devoid of artifice, it was hard to remember that it wasn't a documentary. This is my first Kiarostami film, and while watching the
I really hope my country doesn't start a war with Iran. I don't want any of those actors to die.