Went home for Holy Week. First time since Grandfather's birthday last July that parents had all three of their kiddies under the same roof with them. Swear, the house was subtly bursting with life again, an energy long missed once more powering through the walls and floors. The sheen of the tiling was different, could tell with an expert's eye.
Weather is burning, scorching. Had an awesome intermittent headache that spanned three days. Nearly went down with some respiratory affliction as well, but was quick to act on that one. The things the intestines emitted were strangely, wildly foul - the result, one suspects, of devouring pure-chocolate brownies the cousins made.
"Cloud Atlas" was the biggest snub of the entire awards season, that much is true. Got a blu-ray copy of it (had it returned Sunday as the thing turned out to be a Russian blu-ray) - still, this film is massive, major, monumental. One can only suspect how, in twenty years, everyone will watch this again and think, "What were they thinking back then?!" Watched it Tuesday night, stayed up til two, and rewatched portions of it the next day and the day after, every viewing revealing something new - product of scriptwriting's ingenious reworking of the novel. At the very least, the score should have been nominated and won over "Life of Pi" (but Pi was a deserving winner, of course).
Watched "Zero Dark Thirty" again. Heart is still crying over Chastain's loss to that flavor-of-the-month Jennifer Lawrence (who had reason enough to beat Natalie Portman for "Winter's Bone"). Also, "The Devil Wears Prada" on Holy Thursday. Realized my high school English teacher and school paper adviser was imitating Meryl Streep's Miranda Priestley all along - "Why is no one ready?" for example, when no one would be able to present his or her analytical paper draft. And "Vicky Cristina Barcelona," which got one's Woody Allen wheels going again.
Easter Vigil went rather well, save for the pianist/keyboardist competing in volume with the choir. And that weird Exultet at the start, which came off as a rather forced new inclusion. Ryan Cayabyab's "Prayer of St. Francis" has been playing in me head nonstop since.
Tonight, will be off to Shanghai - land of dead pigs and the new influenza strain. Second year of med school's over, by the way, but more on that some other time.
"The Prayer of St Francis of Assisi (Il Signore)" by Cayabyab.
"All Boundaries Are Conventions" from "Cloud Atlas."