Monday, July 02, 2007

Ratty Bliss and Others

Ratatouille first came to me as one of the advertising campaigns that we need to report on, in my new job. I told myself I better watch this film for all the hair pulling the team has done to get the number out.

Then I watched the trailer for 20 seconds, the scene on the river bank, when the boy and little rat was staring at each other through a glass jar:

"I can not cook, can I?
The little rat did not even hesitate and shook his little pointed head. I love his pink nose and innocent big eyes.

" You know how to cook?"

The little rat shrugged and opened his hands, like saying "yeh, you know..."

That is enough, I made my mind to see it this past weekend. And I never know the Clearview thearter on W 54 street is so gigantically red.

Pixar movie brought back warm memories, our visit to MOMA, your love of Incredible.

And I love this one not just for those memories, I love it for it is fantastic: the perfect computer created animation, the smart script, all the right and funny and cosy moments.

It has some of the favoriate things of mine: French cooking, Paris, streets of Paris, colors of Paris, mastery animation and lots and lots of laughter, hearty ones.
A little rat having a dream overlooking Paris. It melts my heart.

When the food critic took a bite of the Ratatouille, being instantly transfered back to that little boy, I was laughing, but meanwhile tears came out of my eyes, and I know those tears are not just for the laughing, it is also the tears of longing and gratifying, and warming of heart happening in ultra tensity and speed.

I can walk back anytime to watch it again, and again. I hope you have seen it.

This is a beautiful weekend in New York, no humidity, occasional breezy, city is not as crowded for the out of towners, simply loveable. I rode my bike up to Washington bridge with a friend, overlooking the island.

I saw the glass building that I last saw you in. It is among the dense green of trees. My island is so graceful and calm while I gaze it in silence.

We sat in a coffee shop at Washington Heights, seeing the limpid afternoon flowing. Newly discovered neighborhoods in the city are always lovely.

My shoulder blade was burned again since last weekend's ride in another city. I wait for the uneven tan, carving out memories of sun on the canvas of my smooth Asian skin.

Things I want to write down are: the K, Werner Hezog and Rescue Dawn, short stories that gave me solace, and how small the world is, only not for people who are once in love.
And more Rats! What is the difference between rat and mouse again?


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