The past
August ran away from me and I don’t know how. I had intentions to get my blunt nails into a project after weeks of my hand being in a cast. But then I filled up my calendar with other commitments, glittering things, and now I’m feeling like a useless lump. However, we are now in September. The real January. I can start again. Just kidding, I tested positive for covid yesterday. First timer, my mythological status ripped from me. I’ve watched Rome burn. This really is the year of God saying I need to lie down more.
It was a good month for brain food though. I saw the Indigo Girls in Dublin and a bunch of Rosetti paintings in Tate Britain, London. Then, as the month closed tight, I caught a preview screening of Past Lives, a gorgeous short story of a movie. It’s on a wider release this week. Cinematography is divine. Actors all wonderful. Such a simple, lovely film.
The movie is about two childhood sweethearts who are parted when one of them emigrates from South Korea with her family to Canada. They meet decades later in New York City for less than two days. She is now married. He is on holiday. They talk. They walk.
I did not have a childhood sweetheart. I read Star Wars novels and forums about Spike and Buffy over a strained internet connection. There is no one to wonder ‘what if’ about. My mirrors for back then are my family, which can be an annoying scratchy channel for reliving memories. A maybe too honest love. I read once that you should write a cover letter for a job as if your most cheerleading friend is writing about you. It must be intoxicating to know that a version of your awkward years growing up rest with someone who thought you were the bee’s knees.
Anyway, it is the type of movie that will make you feel many different things. Go see it.
P.S.
I loved this short film Liffey Faces. Part of The Guinness Film Society Film Group Collection. Recently restored by the IFI Irish Film Archive.
If you have any money to spare, please donate to this fundraiser for Macmillan Cancer Support.
I read the latest Claire Keegan novella/short story - So Late in the Day - in one gulp in the park under the sun and god she really does kick me in the stomach.