Posted tagged ‘Robert Pattinson’

Ten Reasons Not To Blog

September 6, 2009

Six weeks ago when I first started “ManicDDaily”, I wrote (as my third post) “Five Good Reasons To Blog.”

I still admit to neophyte status as a blogger.  (I have yet to fully investigate the varieties of graphics and the word “widgets” just brings up strange math word problems.)

Even so, I now have enough experience under my belt to understand a bunch of good reasons not to blog.   I list ten of these below:

1.  If the word “daily” is in your title, your blog will cloud your brain for a significant portion of every single day.  On a very lucky day, it’s the cloud of a brain storm.  On a frustrating day, it’s just a plain old storm cloud (without the brain part), in which you thunder at anyone (a child or husband) who threatens to disturb your computer time.  On a normal day, it’s more like a heavy fog, thick and unnavigable.

2.   The blog (which comes with “Stats” as to the number of views per day) provides a whole new way in which you can feel rejected.  A bad day can go right on the failed marriage, questionable career, dwindling stock portfolio heap.  It can bring to mind, with really uncanny vividness, particular manuscript rejection letters,  poetry contests lost, that boyfriend in law school who (unbeknownst to you) had a real girlfriend, and even all those 4th of July swimming pool beauty contests that your mom made you enter from age 6-10 despite your increasingly poor track record.

3.  A good day (lots of views) brings a certain zing to the old step, but it also raises the question of whether the credit is truly owed to Robert Pattinson.  (See e.g. numerous posts on same.)

4.  You suddenly notice that you never have any time to do your “real writing”.

5.  And what happened to all those cute little paintings you used to make?

6.  Your family would really really like you to make dinner before 10, at least 11.

7.  Your boss would really really like you to get in before 10, at least 11.

8.  Your body would really like you to have a bit more energy for the gym.  (The stationary bike was not actually meant to be a notebook and pen bike.)

9.  Your personal yoga practice could really use a bit more focus.  Breaking off mid-pose, repeatedly, to check on early morning “Stats” rarely leads to Nirvana.  (See e.g. Reason No. 2 – a whole new way to feel rejected.)

10.  Your dog would really really like your laptop, charger, electrical cord, and notebook, to stop hogging the bed.

    Poor dog.

    Write you tomorrow.

    Robsten and Government “Death Panels”

    September 2, 2009

    Until recently, I’ve never focused much on celebrities.  Even recently, I’ve only focused on one celebrity.  (If you’ve followed this blog at all, you know which celebrity that is.)

    My biggest number of posts on a single subject have probably been about him (Robert Pattinson, if you are new to this blog.)  The second largest number has probably centered  on the stress and isolation of modern life.  (I’m including in this number some of the ones not technically categorized under stress, but which probably should be, i.e. those on single parenting, marriage, Friday night gym, even some on writer’s block.)   I’m guessing that there’s a link there.  (Yes, between parenting and stress, but what I’m really talking about is stress and a friendly, middle-aged interest in Robert Pattinson.)

    But although both stress and my Manic D personality continue in full force, my interest in RPatz is slowly beginning to fade.  (My family members will soon be able to breathe a collective sigh of relief.)

    (Of course, Rob’s next movie is due out in November.  Who knows what that will inspire?)

    But putting Pattinson himself aside—(by the way, he just gave a really very charming interview in—STOP IT RIGHT NOW!)

    But (ahem) putting Pattinson himself aside, what continues to fascinate me is the coverage of him by the blogosphere, the little internet “news” outlets, the entertainment weeklies.

    It’s really quite amazing.

    The stories remind me of a big supernova daisy where one little comment by Pattinson,  Kristen Stewart (his co-star), an “insider”, or some other celebrity who has never actually met Pattinson, will generate huge petal-ly loops of increasingly remote speculation.

    When Rob has managed to evade the paparazzi for some time (as has happened recently), the celebrity “news” media even stoops to openly fictional stories based upon the activities of the character he portrays.  See, e.g. the recent cover of one entertainment rag which proclaims him and Stewart to be “ENGAGED!” on the set of third Twilight movie.  What I believe the story is about (I really really really have not actually read it) is the engagement of Pattinson’s and Stewart’s characters.

    The whole celebrity daisy phenomenon has set me to wondering how mainstream news is reported.

    And, frankly, the reporting of the health care debate has led me to believe that the mainstream news world is really not that different from the fantastical Twilight realm of Pattinson and the paparazzi.

    The furor over government “death panels” comes especially to mind.   This uproar, which has no basis in reality, seems especially ironic given that currently much medical care for the elderly and the disabled is already provided by the government in the form of medicare and Medicaid.  (The number of persons in nursing homes and disabled adults supported by Medicaid is already legion.  Medicaid planning is a huge and accepted area of the law.  Reports of Medicare and Medicaid recipients being denied care by government panels are relatively small, certainly as compared to reports of non-Medicaid patients denied private insurance coverage.)

    The death panel outcry reminds me of last summer’s netroar over Kristen Stewart’s alleged pregnancy (with RPatz as father, of course.)  The seed for this was apparently a blog in Australia (Stewart was in L.A. at the time) which reported that Stewart had asked a friend to purchase a pregnancy test for her.  Dozens (maybe even hundreds) of  headlines inquiring into Stewart’s childbearing status immediately followed.  Soon, they featured photos of Stewart in skin tight pants which were magnified to huge blurry proportions.  Arrows were drawn on the photos to point out a supposed tummy bump.  (The slender Kristen was not only supposed to be pregnant but showing.)  Pictures of Rob Pattinson wearing a sheepish, guilty father, expression were posted at the side.

    Of course, the death panel rumors really are somewhat different.  They originated in Alaska.

    I love Alaska; I love Australia; I love the Mississippi.  Check out 1 Mississippi (Karin Gustafson) at the link above.

    Robert Pattinson and My Dog Pearl

    August 30, 2009

    My online astrologer wrote that the troublesome opposition between Saturn and Jupiter this weekend might bring up a host of old, but nettling, problems.  I don’t actually pay that much attention to my online astrologer these days.  Any astrologer who predicted, as he did, that the economic downturn of 2008 would improve markedly at the end of August 2008—that is, a couple of weeks before the collapse of Lehman Brothers—has lost an identifiable percentage (let’s say 65) of my confidence.

    That said, it was a nettling weekend.  I felt the other side of manic, that is depressed enough last night, to actually seek out images of Robert Pattinson on my blackberry. (I had no internet connection.)  (Yes, it was pathetic.)

    The images were very very small, and frankly, some of the ones that were retrieved were irretrievably model-ly.  Plastic.  They looked about as much like my preferred Pattinson as elevator music sounds like real music (i.e. not much.)

    Still, I persisted, thumbing the little keys to next and next, until I finally got to a couple of tousled-haired, sweet smiles.  I felt immediately a bit better.

    Yes, it’s very weird.

    Seriously.

    In my defense, my interest really is not combined with any fantasies about Pattinson, not even a narrative line.  (Other than the fantastical stories of the Twilight books, I suppose. Though, those are not my fantasies.  I don’t even identify with them except perhaps with the heroine’s physical clumsiness, and …loyalty, and, okay, there’s the whole unrequited love aspect.)

    Still, feeling stressed, I guess, yet non-manic, I sought out the little postage stamp pictures.  (See e.g. post “From Rat Race to Rat Rut.”)

    The whole scenario reminds me of my dog (my family’s dog) whose name is Pearl.  Pearl is a very cute dog.  White tousled fur, black-nosed and eyed.  An easily anthropomorphized face whose (very cute) expressions run the gamut from “delighted”,to  “quizzical”, to  “I want,” to “pretty please” to “I don’t want” to “oh no!”

    She looks a bit like a classic cartoon, a children’s toy, which is to say mopsy, fluffy but ragtag, bemused.

    I am Pearl’s groomer.  Which is to say, she is not terribly well-groomed, certainly not symmetrical or in any way poofy.

    People absolutely love her.  Passersby stop and stare at her when we walk.  They smile.  They laugh.  Small children reach out their hands.

    The public reaction to Pearl has often made me feel that perhaps my whole purpose in life, the secret but true reason I was put on this earth, has nothing to do with my work, my wonderful wonderful children, or even the payment of taxes.  But simply to walk this cute little dog around, and, by doing so, to brighten peoples’ days.

    Which may be, at least a part, of Robert Pattinson’s purpose.

    Does it have something to do with tousled hair?

    Hmmm…..

    Check out 1 Mississippi (Karin Gustafson) at link above or on Amazon.  Thanks!

    Why I Stay Up Late Rereading Silly Books i.e. Twilight (ha!)

    August 25, 2009

    Why I Stay Up Late Rereading Really Silly Books (Like, I’ll Admit It, Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn, even Midnight Sun….)

    1. Otherwise, I read The New York Times.
    2. Or check on the stock market.
    3. Ugh.
    4. Books like Twilight have happy endings which, at all moments, even the “tense” ones,  can be foreseen by the reader.  Especially on a re-read.
    5. In the world of Twilight, even environmental issues, like the poaching of endangered species in national parkland, are dealt with soothingly.  (The  vampires only go after an “excess” of such endangered species after all, and with only their teeth as weapons.)
    6. And man’s inhumanity to man turns out to be actually vampire’s inhumanity to man, which somehow feels a lot less disturbing …  (I mean, what can you expect from a bunch of bloodcrazed supermodels?)
    7. Health care issues, at least in terms of access to treatment and payment for care, are arranged with breath-taking ease.  Of course, it helps to have a vampire doctor in the house.  And, in Breaking Dawn, a personal x-ray machine.  (Though blood banking’s a bit tricky.)
    8. Hardly anyone in the books seems to actually work at a job for pay except the policeman father (Charlie) who apparently plays cards with other officers much of each day.  Yes, Bella has a part-time job, but whenever this is mentioned, she’s being urged by her employers to take time off.  (The altruistic vampire doctor, who seems somehow to work at the hospital on a volunteer basis,  doesn’t count.)
    9. The New York Times, when I read it, frequently mentions the large number of ordinary Americans not working, being shunted to part-time jobs, or forced to take time off.   Somehow these practices seem a lot more fun in Twilight.
    10. Not only more fun.  More lucrative.  In the best-selling fantasy saga, college tuition and living expenses can actually be earned in one of these barely-existent part-time jobs.  By a teenager.
    11. More importantly, it’s somehow more pleasant to identify with Bella Swan than Maureen Dowd;
    12. More pleasant to read what Edward Cullen has to say than David Brooks, Paul Krugman, Bob Herbert, and/or Frank Rich.
    13. After all, Edward Cullen is even better than Robert Pattinson.
    14. True love conquers all.

    From Rat Race to Rat Rut

    August 18, 2009

    In the Science Times section of today’s New York Times (August 18, 2009), is a great article about the effects of stress on brain circuitry.  (“Brain is a Co-Conspirator in a Vicious Stress Loop” by Natalie Angier.)

    Ms. Angier reports a study by Nuno Sousa of the Life and Health Sciences Research Institute in Portugal which described how chronically stressed rats succumbed to habitual and seemingly compulsive routines (like repeatedly pressing a bar for food pellets that they had no intention of eating).  The study found that underlying changes had actually taken place in the brains of these rats, with decision-making and goal-oriented areas of the brain shrinking, and areas related to habit-formation swelling.

    As Ms. Angier writes, the stressed rodents “were now cognitively predisposed to keep doing the same things over and over, to run laps in the same dead-ended rat race, rather than seek a pipeline to greener sewers.”

    In other words, the stressed rats got into a rut, dug, in part, by their own brains.

    There’s no clear answer to why the stressed brain is so prone to habit formation.  One possibility posited in the article is that the brain in crisis may try to shunt activities to automatic pilot simply to free up space for  bigger questions.  Which, because of the concomitant weakening of the ability to make decisions, the stressed brain just can’t deal with.

    Ah.

    This syndrome sounds familiar.   Especially the compulsively pressing the lever part.  (Although it’s a bit hard to imagine any kind of food pellet I wouldn’t eat when under stress.)

    Still, after reading the article, I came up with the following list.

    Ten Signs That You May Be A Rat in a Rut.   (Or How To Know If Your Brain’s In Stress.)

    1.   When you are not sitting at a computer, you check your blackberry every few minutes, even on an underground subway train.

    2.   You check your blackberry when stepping out of the subway just to see how long it takes to get service back.  You study the little flashing arrows as you climb the subway stairs, conscious of your breath.

    3.   If, after a while, no one’s written, you start to open spam.  Just to clear it out.  Just in case there’s something that’s not spam.  You even open some of the messages for p*n*s enl*rg*m*nt.   (Yes, you’re a woman, but you’re only checking those to see how they managed to get through your spam filter.)

    4.   When someone on the phone talks of an article they’ve read, you find it online before they finish their sentence.   (At least you think they haven’t finished their sentence.  You were doing a Google search so you’re not really sure.)

    5.   You convince yourself that your interest in Robert Pattinson is a sociological study of our media/youth culture.  (Oh that RPatz!  Oh those Paparazzi!)  You are alternatively amazed at how little and how much is on Google News in the articles posted on Pattinson during the “Last Hour.”

    6.   You peruse the sales of online retailers even though you have no money, and (thankfully) no pressing needs.  When you buy something, you congratulate yourself on how much you saved.

    7.   You check all the stocks that have gone up dramatically in the last few months but that you did not buy.  (You studiously avoid checking stocks you own, hoping that you can not check those long enough to forget what they were.)

    8.   You find yourself reading the same books again and again.  These books are fantasies in which unreal things happen to unreal people, ending happily.  You don’t find the books especially satisfying after the tenth read, but, on the other hand, they are also not disturbing.

    9.   Your eyes are sore at night.  When you wake up the next morning, they are still sore.  Even so, you reach for your laptop and/or blackberry first thing.  You decide that a glare screen is the only solution, and shop for one online, looking for sales.

    10. Your daughter shouts from the other room at about 9:45 p.m, “are we going to have dinner soon?”   You are working on a computer that has no glare screen.  “Just a minute,” you tell her some time later.

    (Wait, what did they say about food pellets?)

    If you are more interested in elephants swimming than rats racing, check out 1 Mississippi at the link above or on Amazon.

    Person Blocks – “Pretending”

    August 17, 2009

    Thinking today of blocks other than writer’s block.  A person block is a big one;  the force that keep one from putting one’s true self into the world, that keeps one from being publicly one’s self.

    When I say “being publicly” one’s self, I’m not referring to celebrity.  (Although, weirdly, the subject makes me wonder again about my fascination with Robert Pattinson.  If there is anyone who has a hard time being himself in public, it would seem to be him.  See e.g.  screaming girls and clicking paparazzi.)

    But I wasn’t really thinking about Robert Pattinson.  I was thinking more about people like me, perhaps you too.  How hard it is for me (us) to take actions that might make us vulnerable to criticism.  How difficult it is to show openly the parts of ourselves which do not fit so well into a mold of other’s expectations.  (Or really, one’s expectations of other’s expectations.)

    These kinds of pretenses are deeply ingrained, at least for me.  Even as a little kid—I was not an especially hip one—I felt the need to pretend I knew all kinds of rock bands that I’d never heard of.   For years afterward, a more complex camouflauge seemed to be called for.  I won’t go into the specifics.  I’m sure most of you know the types of things I mean.

    What seems strange is that we actually live in a fairly tolerant society.  I compare my situation with my mother’s, for example.  A teacher, she happened to move shortly after I was born to a county where women teachers were only entitled to substitute’s pay (about 50% of the scale) during the full school year following the birth of a child.  It was a rule apparently motivated either by (a) a wish to keep mothers of infants at home; or (b) an assumption that mothers of infants would be at home, whether working full-time or not  (i.e. an assumption that women with young children were inherently unreliable.)

    My mom, both reliable and unwilling to take a pay cut, spent the whole first year of my life pretending I didn’t exist.

    My mother had a concrete reason for hiding a fairly big part of her life.  But for many people (me at least), the reason for the camouflauge boils down to the simple fear that if others really knew me better,  I would be deemed very very imperfect.  (Not just imperfect, downright faulty.)

    Unfortunately, however, a failure to be openly one’s self can doom one to being less than one’s self.    (Even less perfect!  And much less happy.)

    My ex- husband, an artist, gave me some good lessons in this area (though I am only beginning to follow them.)  He is a master of carrying out what sometimes seems to border on the silly.  (I admit, carrying out the silly is a whole lot easier in the art world than in the average professional arena.)

    In an early performance piece, he played a violin with a loaf of Italian bread.  He does not play the violin.  His lack of expertise with the instrument wasn’t important, however, since the violin he used was broken.   Besides, the bread, though shellacked, wasn’t a great bow.

    You can probably immediately intuit the piece’s potential silliness.  In fact, it was truly magical.

    I am not extolling performance pieces.  Many are self-indulgent, and full full full of pretense.  (One reason my ex-husband’s violin playing was so powerful, I think, is that it was not a piece about himself, but about Paul Klee during the World War II.)

    I’m not extolling confessional art either.  (Remember, you may someday wish to talk to your friends and family again.)

    What I’m urging, I guess, is not to be afraid to risk some silliness.  The unabashed showing of ignorance.  (Sure, ignorance isn’t something to be proud of, but pretended knowledge is way worse.)  A lack of hipness.  To be, in short, more openly yourself.

    Here’s a sonnet (unfortunately not terribly silly) about the long-term price of protective coloration:

    Pretending

    After years, pretending to be what you’re not
    becomes a nature;  a second skin
    coating you like a heavy make-up, caught
    in your pores, nestled in your grooves, a twin
    of features, caked, you need not reapply.
    But habits, faces, fail; pretense wears thin,
    until, worn through, you can hardly try
    anymore.  Too wary, weary–the word
    “cagey” describes so much of what you’ve been,
    the opposite of free-flying bird,
    while unheard, and hardly there within,
    is all you’ve been saving, what you hid, why
    you did this, what wasn’t supposed to die.

    All rights reserved.

    Blocking Writer’s Block Part VII – Don’t Show Draft Manuscripts Too Soon

    August 16, 2009

    Rule No.  9  –  Be Brave but Know Yourself.  Don’t Show Drafts Too Soon.

    In Part VI of this series, as Rule No. 8, I wrote, Be Brave, Read Aloud.  That post was about the liberation of reading your writing exercises aloud to your writing buddy, almost immediately following the writing of them.

    This type of immediate reading is very different from handing out a written draft of your work, a manuscript.  In that case, I would not urge bravery, so much as self-knowledge.  (Or perhaps bravery and self-knowledge.)

    Here’s the gist of it (for me at least):

    I am incredibly insecure.  Especially about writing.

    It’s frankly amazing to me that I can do this blog.  ( All I can think of is that it must have something to do with Robert Pattinson.  I mean, if you’re going to be silly, you might as well take it to the max!)   Even so, the night that I realized a guy in my office had discovered my blog name, I got physically ill.  I thought I would simply have to drop the whole thing.

    But I kept on.  Because it really is useful for a writer to have a sense of audience (even a slightly noncomprehending one).

    I also believe that, if you ever wish to publicize your work, it’s important to expand the limits of what you can tolerate–your comfort level, or perhaps more accurately, your discomfort level.    Keep in mind that even when your discomfort level gets quite high (that is, when you can tolerate a whole bunch of it),  you should not expect the discomfort to convert to ease.   You will still feel uncomfortable with many of the same things, the difference is that you will be able to breathe through more of them.

    That said, be very careful of prematurely sharing work that is truly important to you.  The danger is not copyright infringement so much as ego infringement.  Ego incapacitation.

    The showing of a manuscript can be paralyzing.  I usually cannot revisit the project when it is out with a reader.   If I do try to re-read it, it’s like looking at a mirror under an interrogator’s bright light.   Every single blotch shows up.  Stain, tear.  (How could I not realize that I had a long strand of toilet paper hanging out from under my skirt?)

    Even after comments have been delivered, it can be difficult to pick up the work again.

    A caveat to this rule.  The process does get considerably better with time. And, frankly, it is crucial to show manuscripts to test readers.  (Your goal is to produce a good manuscript after all, not to simply shield your ego.)

    One way to reduce the possible unpleasantness of showing work  is simply to really know your manuscript.  A good technique here is to wait a few weeks without looking at the manuscript before giving it to anyone else.  Then, still before you give it out, read it again yourself.  (If you can stomach it, read it aloud to yourself.)

    When you do give the manuscript out, try to separate yourself from it so that any criticisms will not seem to be shots at you personally.  In other words, go back to Rule No. 1 (in Part I of blocking writer’s block):  don’t care so much.

    At the same time, don’t forget Rule No. 2 – care.   Care enough to want to make your manuscript better.  Accept that part of that process is finding out what just doesn’t work.

    Most importantly, look for a sympathetic reader, ideally, someone who is also interested in writing.  People who are not writers will not realize (i) the amount of work you have done or (ii) how sensitive you are.

    But be sensible as well as sensitive.  If the manuscript is about your childhood, maybe your mother, or even sibling, is not the best first reader.  If it’s about your marriage, maybe you should  start with someone other than your spouse.   If it’s about Robert Pattinson, probably best to avoid your boss.

    If you are interested in counting and elephants and watercolors, as well as writing, check out 1 Mississippi at link above or on Amazon.  Thanks!

    Writer’s Block – Part , Rule No. Don’t Show Your Drafts Too Soon.

    In Part of this series, Rule No. , I said Be Brave, Read Aloud. I meant by that to read your writing exercises aloud to your writing buddy, almost immediately following your first writing of them. This type of exposure of work that is absolutely fresh (and clearly clearly a draft) is incredibly exhilarating. And the great thing about reading aloud is that you’re not actually showing anything to anyone—you read the words aloud, and then you can basically swallow them again. You can keep them private as long as you wish.

    For me this type of immediate reading is very different than actually handing out a written draft. In the case of written drafts, I’m not sure that I would urge bravery, so much as self-knowledge. And, if you are someone who is prone to writer’s block, you may wish to exercise some caution.

    Here’s the gist of it for me at least:

    I am incredibly insecure. Especially about writing.

    It’s frankly amazing to me that I can do this blog at all. All I can think of is that it must have something to do with Robert Pattinson. (I mean, if you’re going to be silly, you might as well take it to the max!) Even so, the night that I realized a guy in my office had discovered my blog name, I got physically ill. I thought I would simply have to drop the whole thing.

    But I kept on. Because it really is useful for a writer to have a channel, some sense of audience (even perhaps a slightly noncomprehending one). Writing is lonely enough as it is; if it is not a tool of communication (simply because no one reads it), the activity becomes very hard to sustain.

    Another reason I kept on is because I truly believe that it’s important to try at least to expand the limits of what one can tolerate–one’s comfort level, or perhaps more accurately, one’s discomfort level. This comfort or discomfort level is very different from the comfort zone. If you ever wish to put any of your work in public, it is important to expand the level of discomfort that you can tolerate. Keep in mind that eve when your discomfort level gets quite high (that is, when you can tolerate a whole bunch of it), you should not expect the discomfort to convert to ease (to any kind of zone). Many of the same things will still be uncomfortable to you, you should will be able to breathe through them.

    That said, be careful of prematurely sharing work that is truly important to you. By work, I mean a manuscript which is still in process. Because I know a little about law, a lot of people ask me questions about manuscripts and copyright infringement. But the danger here is not copyright infringement so much as ego infringement. Ego incapacitation.

    The showing of a manuscript can be paralyzing (at least to me). I usually cannot revisit the project when it is out with another reader. If I do look at it, it’s like looking at a mirror under a spot light. Every single blotch shows up. Stain, tear. (Oh, and by the way, did you realize you had a long strand of toilet paper hanging from under your skirt?)

    Even after the reader is finished, even after comments have been delivered, it can sometimes be very very difficult for me to pick up the work again.

    A caveat to this rule. The process of showing work does get considerably better with time. And in general it is actually crucial to show manuscripts to readers. The comments of others are absolutely invaluable. (Your goal is to produce a good manuscript after all, not to simply prop up your ego with fake pats on the back.)

    But if you are prone to writer’s block, take care. Know your discomfort limit. Know your reader. Know your manuscript too.

    One technique is to wait a few weeks without looking at the manuscript before giving it to anyone else. Then, still before you give it out, to read it again yourself. At this point, you yourself will be more of a fresh reader, and can perhaps see the weak spots yourself.

    When you do give the manuscript out, try to separate yourself from it a bit so that any criticisms will not seem to be shots at you so much as at the manuscript. In other words, go back to Rule No. 1 (in Part I of blocking writer’s block): don’t care so much.

    At the same time, don’t forget Rule No. 2 – care. Remember your goal is to write a good manuscript, a great manuscript. Care enough to make it better.

    One last tip—look for a sympathetic reader, ideally, someone who is also interested in writing. People may not realize (i) the amount of work you have done or (ii) how sensitve you are.

    Also, be sensible as well as sensitive. If the manuscript is about your childhood, maybe your mother, or even sibling, is not the best first reader. If it’s about your marriage, maybe start with someone other than your spouse. If it’s about Robert Pattinson, probably best to avoid your boss.

    Charm, Charisma, Disheveled Hair – Teen Choice Not Swan Lake

    August 15, 2009

    I know I said I wouldn’t  (see post re not watching the Teen Choice Awards) but I did just watch a couple of clips, very brief ones, with you know who.  (I’ll give you a hint–not Voldemort.)

    It’s an interesting lesson in charm.  (I couldn’t stop smiling.)

    Yes, I’m sorry, it’s ridiculous.  (See, e.g. post re why my feelings for Robert Pattinson must be strictly maternal.)

    Still (watch me try to turn this into an academic issue), I find the whole thing fascinating.  What is it that makes for charm?  Charisma?

    In Pattinson’s case, there’s the face, of course.  And body.  And disheveled, hand-raked hair.

    But a lot of the actual charm, I think, comes from  (i) his genuine (seemingly genuine) amazement, the fact that he still looks flabbergasted at all the screaming.

    (ii) there’s also the seeming politeness.    He put his arm around Megan Fox in a manner that didn’t appear to be the normal gush of Hollywood overfamiliarity, but was friendly, gentlemanly, supporting her as they walked to the stage in the way that an older-fashioned man might take a woman’s arm crossing the street.  (No, it wasn’t  patronizing and yes, I’ve always been very naive.)

    He pointedly thanked the fans,  Catherine Hardwick, and Stephenie Meyer.   (All with that same air of Britishy self-deprecating amazement.)

    So there’s the charm.

    Now the charisma.

    Okay, my eyes are drawn to him for some strange reason.  (See again e.g. post re maternal feelings.)   But I don’t think this is just because of the face (or the body).

    There is also such a quality as stage presence.  When they flashed the images of the “teen hotties” –what a term!   (see again e.g. post re not watching Teen Choice awards)—I was struck by the fact that the other male choices couldn’t hold my glance even when they were the only ones on the screen.

    This evening I was lucky enough to catch the last few minutes of a South Indian dance performance in Battery Park City.  There were two female dancers, both excellent.  Both held their fingers in lotus-like extensions, both flexed their feet, strutting about rhythmically, both opened their eyes wide wide wide.

    And yet I found myself focusing almost solely on one.

    At first, I wondered if it was because she was on a more convenient side of the stage for my gaze.  (I was sitting at an angle.)  But when the dancers changed sides in the second half of the dance, my focus changed sides as well, my eye still drawn to the one dancer.

    I couldn’t understand why.  Because her movements were sharper?  Maybe.  But I could never keep my eyes on the other one long enough to be sure of that.

    Were her eyes more animated?  Was her presence more authoritative?

    I tried to compare the two dancers, but the only difference I could be certain of was that the one I watched was shorter.

    But (as I discovered when she thanked the musicians), she was also the leader of the troupe.

    One of the first times I was truly conscious of stage presence was years ago when I was lucky enough to go to the ballet fairly frequently.  I saw Nureyev dance repeatedly.  Your eye (my eye) simply could not leave him when he was onstage.  Even when he was just standing quietly to the side, I watched him, unable to pay attention to the rest of the action, the troupe, even the ballerinas.   Charisma radiated from him like light from a supernova.  He wasn’t a very big person, and, of course, he was dark, his hair dark, the shadows below his cheekbones prominent.  Still, he captured all the light on the stage.

    Baryshnikov also commanded the stage, only his charisma seemed to me to come from his skill, his energy, his ebullience.   He was such a great dancer when he first burst on the Western scene—he leapt so incredibly high–you felt like you had to watch him constantly simply so you wouldn’t miss anything.

    But Nureyev commanded the stage even in stillness.

    Okay Rob, maybe I’m getting grandiose here.  I don’t really think I can compare you to Nureyev, and the Teen Choice Awards (the little I saw) were definitely not Swan Lake.

    The actual awards seemed to be full-sized surf boards.

    And, frankly,  after all this, I’m beginning to forget about charisma and wonder more about my issues with biggish dark hair, high cheekbones.

    Hmm….

    Six Reasons Why Modern Females May Prefer to Click on Robert Pattinson Rather than Marlon Brando.

    August 11, 2009

    The one person in my office who knows about my maternal interest in Robert Pattinson (see earlier post, “why my feelings for Robert Pattinson must be strictly maternal”) is mystified.

    He can’t believe that anyone, including anyone of the female persuasion, is actually interested in Robert Pattinson.  He starts going on about Marlon Brando and Clark Gable.  They were men, he tells me, while Pattinson, like so many modern male movie stars he says, is just a grown-up boy.

    I agree with him.  (See e.g. Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and Leonardo DiCaprio.)

    Though, of course, in Pattinson’s case, he still really is kind of a boy.

    I also agree that as some of these “boys” i.e. Brad, Tom and Leonardo, age, they lose a lot of their appeal.  (Although I have to confess I never ever understood the appeal of a Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise.)

    I blame it a lot on bone structure.   But my friend doesn’t listen to me.  He goes on and on and on about Marlon Brando.   Now there was someone, he says, for women to get excited about.

    Having, by chance, recently revisited clips from both On the Waterfront and A Streetcar Named Desire , I have to admit that my mystified friend has a point.  The young Brando is physically beautiful.  Then there is his power, passion, intensity.   I follow his hooded eyes, especially in Streetcar, my own eyes sometimes becoming hooded because the movie is so very painful.

    Still, there are reasons why some modern females may prefer to spend their down time clicking on images of Rob.   Here are a few of them:

    Six Reasons Why Modern Females May Prefer to Click on  Robert Pattinson Rather than Marlon Brando

    1. He’s alive (putting all vampiric characterizations aside.)
    2. He has not yet put on over a hundred pounds or so, and then charged astronomical fees for very small parts.
    3. Yes, he is less threatening than Brando.  For one thing he’s British, seemingly middle-class.  It is hard to imagine someone with his accent and bearing slamming a woman against a mirror. (Although I guess there will be some female vampire slinging in the upcoming Eclipse movie, vampires don’t seem as vulnerable as Vivien Leigh.)Most modern females aren’t really comfortable with the idea of being slammed against a mirror, no matter how passion-filled and intriguingly sweat-soaked the slammer.
    4. He (RPatz) looks like a male model.  I do not believe that most modern females actually want to be involved with someone who looks like a male model; however, they like the idea of being desired, at least talked to in a friendly way, by someone who looks like a male model.  There’s simply that elusive quality:   when you look at Brando and Gable, you kind of know that they will end up with some woman, no matter what.  But you suspect that it will be a faintly blousy,  big-hearted woman.  (Sort of like Belle, the good hearted madam in Gone with the Wind.) Yes, there’s Eva Marie Saint, but there’s also Stella.But the modern boy-type actors with the fashion model faces somehow seem more unavailable than Clark or Marlon.  Perhaps because they have such a definite hint of narcissism in their features.  While any woman’s good sense should tell her to stay away from narcissists, many women just love a challenge.  (If you can capture the heart of a narcissist, then, you must be very special indeed.)

      The weird thing here is that Brando, off-stage, really was an egomaniac, whereas Pattinson, with his self-deprecating Britishness, makes his fans think that maybe, despite the face, he isn’t.

    5. The modern boy types, even scruffy, have a certain affluence.  (It’s probably the feeling that they could always make money modeling.)  Whereas Brando carries himself like someone who would immediately spend (or lose) any money he made.    (See e.g., It Happened One Night where Clark is a down and out reporter and Guys and Dolls where Marlon ends up working for the Salvation Army.)
    6. A lot of modern women (e.g. me) are deeply tired, and prefer, in their down time, relatively soothing fantasy to gut-wrenching intensity.  You actually have to sit and, wincing, watch Streetcar; i.e. it’s not a flick for the quick passing click.

    Blocking Writer’s Block – Part VI – Be Brave – Read Aloud

    August 8, 2009

    I want to begin with apologies for my last post to those who are not interested in Robert Pattinson’s struggle with paparazzi.  I find the subject fascinating – the part about the struggles with the paparazzi, that is — but I understand it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.  So let’s try blocking writer’s block again:

    Rule No. 8   –  Be Brave.  Read Aloud.

    If you’ve been following this blog at all, you may remember Blocking Writer’s Block Rule No. 3 –  Get a Friend.

    By “friend,” I mean writing buddy, someone that you actually write with, meaning right next to, someone with whom you do writing exercises.  Your writing buddy may also be someone with whom you share finished, or nearly finished work, but the exercises I’m talking about are the ones that you do on the immediate spur of a new topic, the ones that you write for a set period of time (ten to twenty minutes usually) without stopping, erasing or crossing out.

    The next step- after your set time for each exercise is finished –is for you and your buddy to read your exercises aloud.

    To each other.

    Right then and there.

    (I’m not joking, and I want to take advantage of this break in the flow to give credit to Natalie Goldberg,  Writing Down the Bones, who originally popularized these types of writing processes.)

    Yes, I know.  Reading aloud is a bit like taking off your clothes in a crowded room.  Only worse.  Because the crowd may be so busy, people may not even notice your nakedness.  Okay, they’ll probably notice.  But it’s a crowd, right?  There may be no one that you know, no one that you need ever see again

    Your writing buddy is presumably a friend of sorts.  He/she is staring (i.e. listening) right next to you.  At/to just you.  You hope to know each other for a long time to come.

    Plus, you’ve just done an exercise that absolutely proves how idiotic you are.

    But here’s the trick of it.  Your writing buddy has to read aloud too.  You might even be able to make them read aloud first.  They too have written an exercise that exposes their idiocy.

    When you each start removing the clothes… ahem… reading aloud, it’s a tremendous feeling—of freedom, exhilaration, acknowledgement, even if coupled with acute embarrassment.

    I don’t know if it helps, but usually my writing buddy and I preface each reading aloud with some well-worn warning such as “this one is so stupid.”  Or “I don’t know where this came from.”  Or a simple heartfelt groan.  This type of introduction is not obligatory, but it does tend to clear the throat.

    Natalie Goldberg sets a few ground rules for the listeners of read-aloud exercises.  These include a prohibition against evaluating the work—against saying anything akin to either “I really like that,” or “eeuww.”  In Natalie Goldberg’s workshops, she urges the listeners simply to echo the phrases that they remember from the piece, a practice which encourages closer listening, but also tends to emphasize what was most vivid about the writing.

    That’s probably a good idea.  Even praise can be stultifying in the case of exercises;  soon you are distracted, writing your exercise for the praise, and frankly, you can’t always do a good one.  (Then, when you don’t, you feel horrible.)

    But for me and my buddy, Natalie’s prohibitions are hard to follow.  We really don’t have the short-term memories anymore to repeat too many phrases  that we’ve just heard.   And we know each other too well not to guffaw, or say “wow” or “whoops!”  So we are usually quite free with our commentary.  This makes our writing time more fun.  I would warn you, however, that beginners at these exercises might want to be a bit more circumspect.

    Still, the question of evaluations raises an important point.  One of the greatest things about reading an exercise aloud is that you are putting your work out into the world.  You are exposing your work in a very intimate way;  it’s not just your words you are putting out there, it’s also your voice.  It could hardly be more personal.

    But what’s great, what might even make it possible, is that you’re only doing it for a minute or two.  You’re reading aloud, and then you are done.  No one’s taping you.  No one has your printed page to peruse.  You’ve put it out there, then grabbed it back.

    Besides, it’s a DRAFT.  You did it in ten minutes, fifteen minutes.

    It’s relatively easy under these circumstances to follow the first rule of blocking writer’s block which is simply not to care too much.

    Nonetheless, they are your words, it is your voice, it does take courage.  So be brave—read aloud.

    You’ll be very glad you did.

    (To be continued with Rule No. 9Don’t be too brave too soon!  Know your limits.)

    Also, sometime soon, I’d like to write about the benefits of reading drafts aloud to yourself, and reading at public readings.  But that’s for the future.

    For now, please check out the link for 1 Mississippi, my counting book for children who like elephants (and watercolors) on Amazon.  See the link above.