strg grf

A couple weeks ago, I was taking a course on company culture. The woman in the video said (paraphrased):

You don’t need to empower people. People walk in the door already with power. All you need to do is not take that power away.

And I keep thinking about that.

Just like I keep thinking about perception. I feel like I’m starting to sound like a broken record. I’m stuck on it. There are so many different truths. You would think when it comes to truth, that there is one truth, as there’s one right and wrong. But it’s never that simple. It’s always a spectrum. Almost always. Sort of.

Tonight, I started rewatching The OA on Netflix. In the first episode, you see OA’s parents removing her door and taking away her camera. Stripping her of her privacy. Her power. And that leads me to -> What gives someone the right to make decisions for someone else? I guess the parent-child scenario isn’t a good place to start. (In the show, OA is in her mid/late-twenties, if that matters). Isn’t making decisions for others taking their power? I’m not talking about someone in a coma getting decisions made for them. I’m not talking about a parent telling a child they can’t eat ice cream for breakfast.

I think this is a grey area. Where does the line start, and where does it end? Is it okay to make decisions for other people? What are the scenarios? After answering those questions – what is it like to be the person whose decisions are getting made for them?

And all these thoughts on decision making, bring me right back to to thoughts on ownership and possession. Vicky Cristina Barcelona. We do not own others. They are not our possessions. They’re not ours to keep… they are not ours to make decisions for?

I don’t know.

To be continued.


Photo by Luis del Río from Pexels


Beautiful things are often sad.

A few months ago I watched the movie A Ghost Story. Watch A Ghost Story | Prime Video

It wasn’t a horror movie. It wasn’t a thriller either. I don’t really know how to describe it, so here’s the synopsis:

In this singular exploration of legacy, love, loss, and the enormity of existence, a recently deceased, white-sheeted ghost returns to his suburban home to try to reconnect with his bereft wife.
Imagine: your deceased loved one in a sheet, following you around the house. You can’t feel them or see them. It’s not creepy. It’s not anything. You don’t vibe them or even know that they’re there.

The scenes were long and drawn out (cue Rooney Mara eating a whole pie in one shot), and could make you uncomfortable (cue the conspicuous silence in many scenes). It’s definitely not a movie for everyone. But it is purposeful. It’s a movie about a ghost, in which the ghosts life is long and drawn out and is unapologetic on if it makes you uncomfortable. To think about a dead loved one, lurking around in your house, unsure of why or how they’re still there, watching you, wanting you to notice them. Wanting to be there.

The soundtrack really helped tie this movie together. One song in particular, I Get Overwhelmed by Dark Rooms, particularly stands out. The best way that I can describe it is Cinematic. It’s Cinematic and Beautiful.

Please listen to it before reading this next bit.

All of the layers and layers of this song. All of the audio tracks playing and having their own textures. It’s beautiful. It reminds me of the first time I heard Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. You can hear and feel the depth of a song and it’s passion.

I also like when vulgarity is mixed with beauty. To sing:

All the women
That you wanna fuck
On the internet
Wouldn’t give you a second look
Did you fool yourself?
That’s privilege
That’s power without power
That’s a business

This brings my mind to Gaspar Noé’s film LoveA film that tells it’s story around sexual encounters. Vulgarity mixed with beauty. A lot of people say it’s just a feature film porno… but I have to disagree. I think it’s just like A Ghost Story. These are both introspective films that bring you along on a journey.

It’s been a few years since I’ve watched Love, maybe I’m remembering it incorrectly. Maybe this is the part in the blog post where I doubt myself and everything that I’ve written. Where I doubt my memory, and remember that life can only be lived by the person living it, and that your reality is drastically different than everyone else’s and this is why people remember things differently and feel things differently in the moment – why an experience can be freeing for one person, but traumatic for another. We can only truly see through our eyes. We can have others guide us into a different reality through films and books and photographs and stories and music but we’re still seeing it through our eyes, and even if we somehow lived exactly the same life as them, we still wouldn’t see it exactly the same.

How someone would feel about any of the things I’ve written tonight, is all based on personal experience, perception of beauty, judgement of art, and judgement of the artist. This is my perspective. If anyone has watched both A Ghost Story and Love, please tell me how you feel on the matter. Did you like one but not the other? Did you hate both? Did you love both? Do you feel like they’re connected? Or do you feel like the stories and movies couldn’t be further apart? I want to see it from someone else’s perspective, and I want to hear why.


The first definition on Merriam Webster of “Original” is:

original (noun)
orig·i·nal |
Definition of original (Entry 1 of 2)
1 archaic : the source or cause from which something arises
specifically : ORIGINATOR

I read somewhere recently that there’s no such thing as an original thought. The way this person explained it, I thought… wow. Your thoughts are created from all that you’ve been introduced to previously. So when you hear a radical idea, or when thoughts really hit you, maybe they are life changing. Literally. They will forever change what thoughts you will think in the future.

Continue reading “Ideas”