February film fest, or “Let the Bogarting begin!”/ #globalboho.

Saturday started in the early A.M. with the Ultimate Warrior. Yup, Yul Brynner in black jeans &and waistbelt balletically beating ass in an apocalyptic NYC lol. Trinity’s roof scene from the Matrix was in sync for a few paces with the man who pre-widowed me when I was ten without me knowing lol.

Carrot kept fucking with me. Ginormous ginger mofo- you rarely saw that till that recent Viking renaissance in Pop culture. When I dug deeper I found a potential why he eye poked… Turns out he was somewhere in my other husband’s (at the time I was being pre-widowed, keep up lol) Arnold Schwarzenegger’s matrimonial Opus, Conan the Barbarian lol. So now I gotta watch that sometime this month again lol. Though it’s been years, I’ve seen it 120 times, I’m sure. It’ll be the second official bogarting into the month’s movie marathon.

It’s raining in the woods, laundry is done, salmon is broiled, sushi rice in process and the Marriage of Figaro is singing out up into the clouds.

I’m okay with Opera. I’d never turn down a ticket of course, but I’d choose the Symphony or Ballet over Opera most days because my mind can do with those what it wants.

I do love the dressing up for it though. Some of my fondest nyc memories were heading to the gym, sauna’ing and then dolling up in velvet, lace and ripped denim for nosebleed seats in the rafters at Lincoln Center, scoping the box seats & orchestra section from above the first act to see who I was going to butter up for right of ways after intermission. But My most transcendent sonic moments went down at Carnegie Hall, at a rate of three to one. My mentor in Ancient Near Eastern civ routinely gave me his unused box seats there.

Not even Broadway-Not Les Miserables OR Rent. I’m more of a modern Rock Opera girl at heart lol…who understands that these were THAt back then…which doesn’t seem to register as such at the Met, spiritually speaking. Sometimes you see it shooting out of their eyes…but rarely seeping down into their bodies. If I’m going to subject myself to such a communal sensory experience, being as sensitive as I am, I need my compadres to be whole-hogging vibrationally, not toking.

But where it did register shamelessly was in the golden age of Hollywood. Watching those movies with other campy performing arts school kids? Sheesh. Transcendent goofballisms!

That kind of breaking into song, Gene Kelly on roller skates falalalaing gobsmacks me in the heart every time. That chick in the pool my also nonswimming at the time actual trained dancer sister used to be nutzo for? Yeah. I can do that all day. But Les Miserables madness makes me want to punch people in the face until they run into the woods screaming mama mia lol.

…Cough.*

Um…The only Opera that wasn’t Rock (as in Rocky Horror,etc) that hasn’t Ever triggered boredom(or violence) in me was and is what the Shaman instinctively brought me in that sweet pile of vinyl.

Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro. Which is playing now…for the first time in my space in eons. Decades.

…it’s Why I married him as a kid, probably. Yes, I was an outright creative bigamist child lol.

THIS particular Opera hits me like hot milk after a hard day. It soothes me. Soaks into my bones, maaan! But listening to it the first time in forever today I’m realizing it may have had an assist beyond mere miniature musical man I could keep in my Amazonian pocket husbandry.

My intro to it wasn’t at Severance Hall. It was in the movie theater. Amadeus. In fact… I Just pinpointed the scene again that’s been playing on the periphery of me all morn as I listened, sprawled, content.

“God was singing through this little man to the whole world, offering absolution.”

MAaann, minime was on some stuff I’m Still only catching up to lol. Imagine being in 4th grade hearing That line as that music plays larger than life and being like “Yep, I’m marrying That vibe. We’re not fucking with nobody’s cooties who isn’t channeling. Big Pop”lol.

I’m just like no wonder I’ve never gotten hitched lol. Who is out there in 2019 trying to heal the world with their craft? Lol.

Anyway, as the day goes on we’re getting a bit more 70s sci-fi about the thing.

Zardoz was the first February film Bogart. In seventies sci fi they really were like “…fuck your feelings, face it! We’re all going to die!” & ” You Gone LEARN Today!” And iiiiii Love it.

But what really spooks me (& there’s gonna be an escape from marathon squeezed in this month’s marathon somewhere because a lot of movies that cross ref it are in the list-up) – is how, like with the Wiz… New York fn City really WAS an apocalyptic wasteland of sorts in the 70s. Even if The Ultimate Warrior used the Nyc lot out in LA(which I think it did), the Warriors did not.

We don’t realize how lucky/blessed we were to have been born when we were until we see from different angles the things we got to miss.

…Just felt worth noting.

So anyway… Zardoz.

At 1pm.

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