June 29^th/30^th: Middle of the Night Sleepless in Bologna:

 

Okay. Other than my birthday, my most anticipated day is soon to arrive: Wednesday. Wednesday may be one of my favorite cinematic experiences of all time. I am counting down towards it as if it were Christmas day. Let me break this down:

*My day will start at 10:30am. The first films to be screened are part of the series collection of “1909”. All of the films are brilliant shorts from…well, 1909. This particular set of the series contains a short including Argentinean revolution, African tribal dance, and tamed animals as workers for humans. I am fascinated, to say the least.

*From there, I will go to my favorite screening theatre in Bologna, Cinema Arlecchino where they will be screening Frank Capra’s “Platinum Blonde”. We’re talking Jean Harlow, we’re talking 1931 pre-war film, we’re talking PLATINUM BLONDE. I will be smiling.

*Then (alora), I will be SCREENING MY BOYFRIEND’S (Jean-Luc Godard) Pierrot Le Fou. 1965. French New Wave. I adore myself some Godard and have never even seen this film of his before. My first viewing of it will be on his continent. I am honored.

*I will finish my night at the outdoor screening at 10:00pm in the Piazza Maggiore under a starlit sky. And what will I be screening? A 2009 Bjorkman and Ingmar Bergman film. AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Then AFTER that film, we will be viewing a restored version of Les Vacances De Hulot by Jacques Tati…1953 comedy, and in English! If this day is half as exciting as I believe it to be, I may never return. Sorry United States!

But in non-film-nerd-related news, tonight I understood what it feels like to be ostracized based on ethnicity or origin. As Americans (the typically hated country throughout the world), we were forced to eat in the corner of an empty room at a restaurant and served with upmost hostility. I have even had the experience of asking if someone at a restaurant spoke English with a simple “Parla Inglese?” and was brutally shot down with a “You are in ITALY. NOT America. You are in MY country. Speak MY language”. I thought of all the Latinos that are judged that way, and I do my best, but good god, I just wanted to order a sandwich and was asking a question. I am so sorry world that I happen to be American, next time I may just say I hail from Canada.  We have an embarrassingly loud reputation of George Bush, obesity, reality TV, and alcoholism and it seems to slather us in a stink wherever we travel. It is frustrating when you are doing everything in your ability to strike that reputation and replace it with a new generation interested in art, culture, politics and movement.

Interesting. I am going to do crosswords. My two sleeping pills from hours and hours ago seem to think this is some sort of joke.  As usual, it’s nearly 5am and everyone is asleep peacefully, as I type up a concoction of words that are attempting to describe this experience. The isolation, the tragedy, the uncomfortable routine of things, passion, tension, art, the interactions, cinema, the sexuality, and the history are all a bit much to squeeze into some pedestrian words strung along into a blog. A blog that fully depends on my macbook’s battery life and the energy left in my fingers and brain to type. I have little words to offer that could suffice, but I hope the picture I paint is decent.

Crosswords are calling my name and scorning me for only having a pen available. Let’s hope my mind is sharp and on point and in no need of an eraser. Ciao.