I asked Trista which Director she would like to visit in a month long retrospective, and she picked Hayao Miyazaki. We cheated by watching My Neighbor Totoro (a delightful film!) at the end of November, but have officially started out visit of the master's animated films tonight with Princess Mononoke. It was my first Miyazaki, and in many ways still my favorite. Not only does it grapple with themes of mythology, responsibility, controlling your rage, appreciating your own mortality, and the lopping off of limbs/heads of your opponents, it also overflows with philosophical richness. "You cannot change your fate," a wise woman states in the movie, "but you can rise to meet it, if you wish." Some noble advice, which has made its way into my own outlook on life. I'm not much of a fatalist, but I recognize that there are only so many things that happen in our lives, which we can directly change. Sometimes we have to rise to meet those unchangeable forces, and see them for exactly what they are with eyes unclouded by hate or fear (another notion from that movie). I was left breathless, once more, by the animation and the delightful story that picture had to tell.
I discovered last night that Mamalade (who is the kitty queen of the bedroom) has discovered a sort of joy in sleeping atop us. Trista zonks right out. Me? I am left awake, listening to the happy purrs, and feeling the 12 pounds of kitty on my side. Or my lungs. Or my belly. Or my arm. I love this cat to pieces, but I can't sleep with her on me. And when she hops off (if I have to, say, totter off to the bathroom), you can bet she'll be back before long when I return to lay down. All contented purrs, trying to lull me to sleep, while I sit awake. If it happens again tonight, I might try to crash in the second bedroom. Lol.
Needless to say, lack of sleep means less writing than I had hoped. Writing has been minimal, today. However, with the Ridler! Challenge still running, I managed to produce about 900 words on the pulp story (one session of writing, when I got home from a longish but productive day at work). Just when it was starting to lull into a flashback, one of the characters asked the important question: "How much of this is actually important?" Suddenly, a hardboiled adventure story becomes an Ars Poetica of sort. Lol. 900 words, however, is nothing to sneeze at.
Fiction Wordage: 900 (total this month: 5600)
Non-fiction Wordage: 0 (total this month: 0)
Blog Wordage: 450 (total this month: 1300)
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