with what shall I wash?

my favorite thing at frameline so far:

¿Con qué la lavaré?
María Trenor
2003, 11 min
Daybreak in the red-light district of a Spanish town. Someone who earns a living on the streets makes the trek home, sits down, and begins removing make-up. This is a celluloid tribute to the transvestite artists of the late 1970s, just after Franco’s dictatorship. María was born in Valencia (Spain) in 1970 and this is her first film. There's no dialogue, just this haunting 16th century song:

¿Con qué la lavaré la flor de la mi cara?
¿Con qué la lavaré que vivo mal penada?
Lavo me yo cuitada con ansias y dolores.
¿Con qué la lavaré que vivo mal penada?
Lavan le las casadas con agua de limones.

With what shall I wash the flower of my face?
With what shall I wash away my sorrow?
I wash myself to take away the anguish and sadness.
With what shall I wash away my sorrow?
Married women wash with lemon water.

another gorgeous frameline short

John and Michael (2004, 10 mins)
The story of a relationship between two men with Down's Syndrome.

"It's a bit like having to do 10,000 oil paintings for 10 minutes of film. I never thought I'd have the patience for something like that." That's how Shira Avni describes working with the medium she's chosen for her current film, John and Michael, in which clay is spread thinly on Plexiglas and lit from behind.

Working on a light table, Avni shapes the clay onto the glass to create her scene, takes a shot with the camera, paints the scene again with a slight change and then takes the next shot. There's no going back. The results are, as she describes it, "stained glass in motion."

shut up, kaiser

one of my favorite internet people is sarah bunting, aka sars, who is a founding mother of TWoP. i loves me some sars, and here's one reason why: cirque du shut up.

had another go-round with fucking kaiser today. after waiting two years for my eyeglasses benefits to come available again (and it's not two calendar years, mind you, it's two years from when you *use* them), i learned today that if you don't use the whole amount, you simply lose that benefit. so my contact lenses cost $100 of the $175 benefit, and since i did not need anything else today, i just lose the other $75. and, no more benefit until june 20, 2007.

shut up, kaiser.

using my powers only for good

i have jean's power of attorney while she is travelling, so that i can do things like dispense money to contractors and repairpersons. this week, one such repairperson presented himself at jean's bank to cash a check drawn on her account. "oh no" said the bank manager, "we must protect our valued customer, ms. sirius, by speaking with her to verify that this check is valid." "she's not available", says i. "but we must speak to her", says he.

we continued in this fashion for a while. eventually it became evident that i would have to go to the bank and smack them with a rolled-up power of attorney to make those checks cashable by the hapless repairdude.

what. ever.

it took two trips and about an hour and a half of faxing and explaining and presenting identification at the bank, but eventually i was electronically designated as having POA over jean's checking account (bwahahahaha, world domination can't be far) and then...

the bank lady prints out a form, highlights it in two places, and says brightly, "so, just have jean sign here, and here, and then you're all set."

uh huh. i grind another millimeter of enamel off my teeth, and say quietly, "jean. is. not. available."

the bank lady looks defeated. i slump in my chair, thinking many bad words which only my southern upbringing prevents me from saying out loud.

then it hits me like a thunderclap. i sit up, smile beatifically, brandish the POA one more time, and say, "this of course gives me the authority to sign legal documents for jean" and i sign jean's name in two places, and then sign my own name in the final place, and for a long moment the bank lady looks at me wide-eyed.

and then she smiles, a broad and generous smile of shared delight at the cleverness of that solution, and she takes the little piece of paper and puts it in her file and says "have a nice day, ms. carroll."

it's dark in here

the glorious dr. spot spent monday night elsewhere. i spent monday night mostly sleepless, trying to corral my catastrophizing thoughts. catastrophe, from the greek, meaning to overturn, ruin, or undo.

turns out the furry little darling had gotten locked into my neighbor's basement. again. there must be something powerfully enticing in there, is all i can say. but of course even those of us with brains bigger than a walnut get locked into familiar basements.... like expecting the worst.

::sigh:: oh my dears, our silence will not protect us. and neither will our paranoia.

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