Sunday, December 21, 2008

just a little person



I just saw the film, "Synecdoche, New York," written and debut directed by Charlie Kaufman ("Being John Malcovich," "Adaptation," "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind").

I really liked it.

After seeing it, it's been even harder to curb my developing soft spot for Charlie Kaufman over the years. (He's the bright and witty yet charismatically awkward classmate that I am really jealous of, but also have a crush on.) I have often identified myself with Kaufman as a thinker who uses art as a tool for understanding ourselves, re-telling or reframing our past and perception of the world with the elements of culture, personalities, film techniques, drama... except he does a lot better job than me and is kind of a genius.

In "Synecdoche," Kaufman masterfully talks to us about mortality, finding truth and significance in a massive fucked-up world, and working hard at your craft, in a tightly - yet light-handedly - woven collective of life-like characters anchored by the central main character, Caden, a New York suburb regional theater director. I was especially delighted by what I considered Kaufman's signature commentary on the protagonist's self-referencing journey through the dramatic theater process. In the past, I have been slightly annoyed by it, but here, I found it well-developed and enjoyable.

And I love the soundtrack of this film and can't stop playing "Little Person" composed by Jon Brion.

If you're feeling pensive or frail...or just in the mood for something Kaufman-esque, please give this movie a chance.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

meet another Carolyn

"He may not answer me when I want him to answer my prayers but...he's always on time..."
- Carolyn

Sunday, December 14, 2008

mermaid



i wish
i could live
in your ocean
but
i fear
i will drown

will you
come with me
to the light
and water my life

will the sun shine too brightly?
will you learn to hate me?

i will remember
this place

where kindness broke my heart

how can they say
that you're not real

where here
love truly lived

maybe
there's
no place

for both of us

maybe you're
the home

that i've
been waiting for...
but i can't have.


(c) 2008 Carolyn Chen

* This week, I was determined to record something even if I was sick and it was going to be ghetto. Other recordings can be found at www.myspace.com/notesfromunder.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

bjork, here i come...


I'm a little stressed out and grouchy these days from work, people, myself. Perhaps I'm a little disappointed, too, that I recently spent big bucks to go to Asia for vacation when I'd rather go to Iceland. With the way its economy is going, I can actually afford to go now after all those years of fantasizing about it. Maybe next year...? For now, I'll just imagine myself chilling in a hot spring, without a care in the world.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

ten year reunion

On my way home from my therapy session tonight, "Ready or Not" by the Fugees began to play on the radio, and I was transported back in time to ten years ago, when I was a 19-year old freshman at MIT. Mind you, the Fugees' "The Score" came out earlier in 1996 - but it wasn't until 1998 that I began to acquire mp3's by my new friends and was able to play the song over and over in my dorm room.

As I sat in my car parked in front of my apartment with just the radio on so I could enjoy the song from start to finish, it just hit me: I've been struggling with my worst bout of depression for ten years...
Ten years ago from today was just before "the" depression began. It all started with a theater audition with my best friend. She didn't get a part in the play, but I did. Since that point, she became more anxious, more angry about everything, and then more abusive towards me...
I never fully got over it.
As I have processed the relationship over the years, I realize now that what hurt the most was not so much what she did, but more what the people around me did - or did not do. Not all of my friends knew what was going on, but some did. No one told me that it was wrong and that I didn't have to take it, that things would be okay if I left her. Not even the counselor I saw at MIT. Not even my women's small group leader. It was only my sister who, after hearing what happened once my freshman year had ended, told me that what that friend did was wrong and I didn't deserve it and that I had to leave the relationship. Things didn't resolve so simply after that, but have mostly resolved now.

Hearing that song in the car reminded me of the person I was ten years ago: A happy-go-lucky girl with a dark streak but who felt excited by life and people. A girl who had no idea that in a matter of weeks, her life would be changed for the rest of her life for the next ten years. I still know that girl, but she's hit a lot of spikes along the way and is still working on getting those wounds healed - but what can you do? The show must go on...

What is this song about anyways? I love it anyhow.

Monday, December 1, 2008

thanksgiving: black friday

Friday after Thanksgiving, my dad and I worked the lunch shift at Union Rescue Mission in Los Angeles (near Little Tokyo, Toy District). We served about about 800 people: 200 some men at 11 o'clock, 200 some women and children at 12 o'clock, and 440 men at 2 o'clock. As my dad described it, it was "intense," but he said he had a good time. (It was his first time doing a soup kitchen.) He scooped rice, and I switched between serving chicken tenders at one lunch, serving vegetables at another lunch, and distributing plates of food to the guests. After each lunch, we cleaned the tables. The menu: three chicken tenders, rice, peas and carrots, and salad.

I've volunteered at a number of homeless shelters, but it was my first time serving with Union Rescue Mission (URM). I decided on URM because I didn't have a lot of time to research Los Angeles shelters, so I picked the most well-known. I shouldn't have been surprised, then, that celebrities (or former celebrities) like coming to URM, too. As we're waiting for the guests to come, a volunteer named Cruz tells me that he helped out the day before on Thanksgiving, and "the blonde woman from MASH" distributed plates to the guests. On a previous occasion, the twin sisters of the show, "Sister, Sister" came. As he's telling me these stories, I hear a staff member yell out, "Yo, the guy from Korn is coming today..."

The first lunch flew by and I barely had time to look up to say "hello" to the guests as I painstakingly tried to quickly pick three good sized chicken tenders (and not broken off pieces) to put on the plate. After the second lunch, the other volunteer servers (mostly dressed in black) chatted me and my dad up and introduced themselves. We talked about whether it was each other's first times. It was their first time, my tenth or so time. I asked them about what made them decide to serve, and one guy with dreads and a beard named Reggie said, "I've been donating money here for some time, but decided to meet the people here and just get a group going..." I wasn't sure if they were a church group or not. I finally asked them, "Hey, I heard someone from Korn from is here...?" and Reggie said, "Yeah, that's me." Excitedly I said, "My friend is a huge fan, and I've heard so much about your band through him!" Then, all of a sudden, I felt embarrassed, starstruck, now that it was out there that I knew he was someone famous. I worried that I insulted him by telling him that I didn't know his music, then worried that maybe he didn't want to feel like a celebrity, and there I was, pointing it out.

Nonetheless, his friends and father-in-law were very friendly and urged me and my dad to take a tour of the facilities with them, led by one of URM's staff members, Rosie. I am so impressed with URM - it was established in 1891 and has done a lot of great work since then. The facility has separate quarters for men and women, dental and medical clinics, a gym made of old tires, weight room, chapel, and spaces for people to just come in from off the streets. Their various programs are also noteworthy. Also, every time they get a donation of $30,000 or more, they ring a big bell in their office and just thank God for his provision and graciousness of the donor. Finally, Rosie saved the best for last - the rooftop of the building where the CEO holds a barbeque for all the staff and guests every First Friday of the month. Here are some pics for you to chew on as the first Friday of this month approaches...






Happy Thanksgiving.