” Life is messy. Life has Lint Rollers.” -Tavi’s Apartment

Check out this quick video of the creator of Rookie Magazine , Tavi Gevinson, on her apartment and its stories.

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Film..

Whatever the intention, there’s something uncomfortable about a person who makes me repeat something I’ve just said. I cannot catch my earlier light-hearted expression, and the entire point has now been missed. They’ve lost the impression, the sentiment in my tone, the reason I said it when I did, the alchemy. A friend of mine does this a lot. I particularly dislike when I’m giving her my time, my close attention, hyper focused eye contact and I’m perched, physically showing an interest in her hesitations, her wonderful revelations. As if I were at the cinema, I begin straining my eyes to the light leaving her lips, wincing at the darkness drenched in backbiting blue. I’ve said something profound now, something classic. I’m talking one time only stuff, and this friend, who possesses the opportunity to listen to me, out of curiosity, possible equal respect even, turns to me and requests something like, ‘say that again!?’ or ‘stop, wait, start again’, attempting to pry herself from her phone or tablet.netflix2

It’s my personal choice to tell stories, ones replete with sketches and mementos captured by a life filled with several hilarious east African personalities, blended with a fondness for character. People make me repeat myself sometimes, simply so they can laugh at a joke again. As if the first chuckle failed to flex their core muscles the way they’d have liked, as if I were a human television set, a film on repeat. On some occasions though, my friends and family fail to grasp that my silence or my poise through the chatter, indicates a refusal to repeat myself. What I’ve said won’t be the same. It was something destined for that very moment which required they’re full attention. It was a story.

notebookI have no issue however repeating the lines that Ryan Gosling recites in The Notebook. Especially the ones in my favorite scene, where he’s literally imploring the love of his life to please choose him.

‘‘So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s going to be really hard; we’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me… everyday.’’

I listen with fresh ears at these words when I re-watch this film, because they’re lines I love, from a movie I adore. It’s the sentiment in his tone in that moment which I’ve memorized. It’s a moment with such affection, such sincerity, that my skin often produces goose bumps watching Gosling’s passionate pursuit of his love interest, Ally. Maybe it’s about understanding the concepts of too much and not enough, about unleashing romance in all its wonder, about appropriate timing when safeguarding an explosion of buried truth. Or about asking ourselves as Noah asks Ally, ‘‘Dammit! What do you want!?, what do you want!?’’ In more ways than one, film is a reminder of craving, need and passionate emotion.

I sleep in a Queen Daybed and if you were to lift its mattress, you would find built in drawer’s underneath filled with clothes, accessories, photo albums, books and lots of them. Spread over my books like icing, you’ll also find a bunch of DVD’s, films I’ve kept like children, covers that have aged as I have. Not with grace, but by force.

My kooky, black and white bookshelf beside my bed is embedded with Shakespearean quotes like ‘‘say as you think and speak it from your soul’’, the shelves bursting with books of course. I’ve dedicated the two bottom shelves, to films I’m more likely to re-watch on the weekends; days when I have the time to putter between the kitchen and Netflix, barefoot so I can feel the front rooms cozy carpet fuzz between my toes, the scent of freshly washed linen ready and waiting to be folded top of the dryer.

mbfwI reach for a film that I can pour myself into when in need of an emotional pick me up, a mental cuddle. I look for ones that capture the seasons, that capture the essence of my memories, a story line that dislocates me, one that creates a temporary forgetfulness of who I am. These are the movies I watch with a cup of tea or coffee bubbling in my hand — a hug in a cup. The ones that require me to create my own alcove on our firm couch, one fit to house my many personalities and countless moods as well as some food and shelter; meaning a small homemade nook, a fluffy blanket and red packets of Butterkist popcorn.   romancing

Outside, the earth is tired. The city moves with a cause for concern and it’s like finding something rotten in your fridge. The joie de vivre of the times seems to be dying in a place meant to preserve it. In film, exuberance seems alive through form. Or, the groan of life is able to seek refuge at least in untangling itself through character, through tales.

My home is my special place, similar to the rose-colored space I’ve reserved in my heart for Robin Williams and Jim Carrey; the same one where I also preserve Tom Hanks as an uncle type. The place where I’d often google him whilst lying down, just to check that Uncle Tom’s still alive. A residence where winter means Lana Del Rey, candles and hot water bottles, and summer means cold drinks, R & B music and crisps. Anything in between can house the reliable satisfaction that stems from caffeine. Films have always been valuable to me in a tremendously charming way. I can’t say that I don’t know why. It simply has been and still is one of the things I run to, to escape — a tree-house.

riding

A great movie can set alight tremors in me reserved for just that — a remarkable film. Why a film is remarkable to you is debatable. It’s too personal. To me, films are about seeing rather than watching. A film is a snow globe and you are covered in white. Your left cold by the end and your lips have become purple but it’s okay, because you’re now thinking of how trees breathe, the shape of water and if the moon is offended by the sun dodging it.

Curzon Cinema

You’ve probably walked past it so many times that you’ve now lost count. It’s on Brunswick Square, not far from Russell Square station and once, even I walked by it not understanding what this building actually was. It was Christmas and wonder was in the air, fairy lights and large birds made entirely of bulbs adorned the square like jewellery. They almost distracted me from the foreign movie posters. What were there these new films displayed on the glass? They definitely weren’t typical of UK cinemas. They were movies I’d have loved to watch on the big screen, movies I’d watched people debate about on twitter but had no idea how to access. I’d seen the poster of a beautiful black woman on Spike Lee’s ‘ChiRaq’ in the window, the chilling darkness of James Franco’s locks in ‘The Disaster Artist’ amongst other colourful movies like ‘The Florida Project’ that seemed to me, as stirring as a blurb on a new book I was dying to read.

I decided to go one evening with a friend, entering in a nosy way as you would a new museum, crouching slightly. I was impressed immediately. Inside Curzon cinema, you’ll find an artistic interior at the reception. Lots of browns and beiges– bare colours on the walls. The architecture is elegant creating a sense of classy urbanism one would only find in the student area of Brunswick. This simplicity and inner-city vibe becomes key when faced with the bar. The food river is the opposite of simple. It’s crowded with items and prices and the place where you’ll buy your tickets, cake and drinks from the friendly and welcoming vendors.

curzonYou can just tell this place has had film premiere’s here and that celebrities have walked these corridors. It’s something about the thick richness of the carpet, the names on the doors of screens like Renoir and Plaza, the dull glare of the doors shading where dressing room names may have gone. Even the toilets were giving me that whole, this could be a scene from an American high school toilet scene vibe. There’s a seating area in the reception too, perfect for a quick nibble and catch up with friends or your date, while jazz music plays and maybe you discuss what movie you’d like to see today? Maybe you’ve bought your ticket online, sure of why a certain movie will become notable. You’re excited because it’s different and that’s the beauty of Curzon. Maybe you want to watch a different type of movie and lose yourself in another school, one of thought.

On your way upstairs, you may notice that the building is layered like right angles that have been instructed to make a cheerleader pyramid shape, and ordered not to move. The walls look like they’ve been washed with egg wash and painted over with a matte shade, the lighting catching the guest’s shadows, and eating it as they walk up and down the staircase. What will stop you in your tracks is the huge movie adverts, standing up by itself in corners of the stairwells. Arabic movies, Jewish movies, French movies, all as magnetic as Star Wars or Harry Potter. You’ll see booking information, quotes and stars describing the exhilaration, the chill and claustrophobia maybe. The words Curzon Home Cinema may prop up too. Yes, you can rent and watch movies that Curzon hold online. I know, where has it been all your life right?

Only dedicated movie goers have permitted Curzon cinemas to end up in the excellent place it is today. Once inside, after choosing a Syrian movie called Insyriated (2017) about a Syrian mothers last attempt to keep her family safe in her apartment during the war, I noticed the luxurious seating as you will, I’m sure. You have to, because the extravagance will reach your eyes. In the Plaza there were couches only which surprised me. But they were grey, loving smooth couches with no tables, cup holders – nothing. People held glasses in their hands like they were in the arms of their living rooms and shoes were off, coats slung behind or on laps, lovers cuddled. I came back again to watch a subtitled French film Happy End (2017) and was seated in the larger Renoir screen, an even more vintage style screen with private viewing cubicles making you feel as if you were at the Opera, holding binoculars and wearing long silk gloves. It was very Great Gatsby.

The trailers too are tremendous because they are different. They advertise foreign films coming soon, Curzon Home Cinema and show a different sort of advert you would not see in the regular pictures. The films themselves have not failed to impress me and I always leave feeling as though I must write about them in a tweet, a song or blog post. I always want to Lana Del Rey the hell out of them, because they all seem to ‘rock me like Motley’, as does Curzon in its blue moon kind of way.

After that experience, your class is around the corner, life is in full bloom and view. You are changed, and still Curzon cinema is there for you during the rough times. A friend, growing with ideas, and themes and stories. Treat it well and visit often.

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Stephen Chbosky – The Perks Of Being A Wallflower: Book Review (1999)

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still-of-melanie-lynskey,-logan-lerman,-emma-watson,-ezra-miller-and-erin-wilhelmi-in-the-perks-of-being-a-wallflower-(2012)-large-picture“There’s nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons.” 

Stephen Chbosky wrote a simple masterpiece, perfect for surviving souls out there.  Set in the nineties, this novel is written with a schoolboy innocence as the main character Charlie, writes diary like letters to a anonymous friend, chronicling his lonely high school debut and the demons that haunt his mind. He begins revealing truths about his friend whose recently died, recounting his shock and dismay at everyone’s continuance of their lives ever since.

With a genuine innocence about him, Charlie begins high school and meets a girl, Sam and a guy, Patrick. These smoking buddies welcome him in spite of his age, accepting each other despite all their flaws and secrets. Charlie falls in love with Sam, though she is uninterested and already in a relationship. His innocence is further highlighted as he promises that he loves Sam – so much, that he feels a gripping horror at even thinking about her in any bad way ever. Charlie is dramatic and timid, constantly crying about his life, but in that, there’s something so pure and endearing about him that you will fold to his woes.

ThePerksOfBeingAWallflower“I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.”  

It’s clear that Charlie loves his family dearly. He misses his brother who’s away at college playing football. He has a close relationship with his loving mother who understands his ways wholeheartedly. She also the only one skilled in knowing how to deal with him when he’s in a very dark place. But most of all, he misses his Aunt who died in a terrible accident. This is revealed in a interesting way.

Charlie’s friends become his life so much so that, when they’re not around, he finds it hard to breathe. When they argue, he falls apart and will do anything to go back to how they were. Charlie also experiences drugs, music, girls and books. His English teacher becomes inspirational as he realizes Charlie’s potential in writing and provides him with advanced books to read.

The simplicity of this book reveals Charlies state of mind and how he deals with his feelings in a childlike manner. With many turns of events and life changing moments, this is a book which can be read over and over again. Chbosky’s writing is enticing and somewhat addictive, in that he sets the scene as if you were present in the nineties. If anything, you won’t feel like a wallflower. You will feel like you’re driving fast, listening to cassette tapes and feeling infinite.