“We don’t care how they do it in California…”

… and other uncurbed ideas and sentiments.

 

I enjoy notes written, well, on almost anything. "We Don't Care How They Do It in California!" was one of the quotes embroidered on towels in a cabin in Colorado. It proofed to be true.

I also enjoy needlepoint pillows with witty sayings. Like the pillow that a disgruntled girlfriend once gave to Hollywood producer Robert Evans that reads "He knows where you've been sleeping."  Needling?

Polaroids

& cocktail napkins-

Printed ones.  Alas, there are no "he knows where you've been sleeping" around my house.

And some truly inspired free-lanced moments...

 

 

We are only 'limited' by what we can imagine.  In Los Angeles everyone used to exchange phone numbers on napkins.  It helped me to remember where and how I met someone.  Oh, yeah, that’s the napkin with a bit of spilled salsa on it.  We met at Cugat’s while drinking margaritas.  And that red napkin there, that was from Britta’s Christmas party. 

I’ve drawn designs and, of course, I’ve jotted my share of ideas for posts on napkins. 

Many of these squares and rectangles of paper stay tucked into notebooks and files to be discovered years later…

【ツ】

Put them in a box somewhere put them in a drawer…

Elton John

Perhaps the creators of “The Red Shoes” did not propose for the film to have the profound meaning that it would have with women, especially with women artists, in years to come. Still beautiful to look at (despite the frightful melodrama of the acting), and a brilliant score by Brian Easdale, it strikes a chord.

Ms. Edna's favorite image from the movie

After a screening of the movie yesterday, followed a heated discussion with women artists who were pointing out the conflicts between dedication to their art and the relationships with the people they love. This was not an analysis of the film but an examination of the issues it raised for women and art.

Women and sacrifice abound in art... Anna Karenina, La Traviata, Jane Eyre, The House of Mirth, The Portrait of a Lady... These stories have enormous power. However, far fewer stories exist about one's dedication to and sacrifice for one's art.

In the film, Victoria 'Vicky' Page is an unknown dancer who aspires to dance with the prestigious Lermontov Ballet. She meets Boris Lermontov, the charismatic impresario of the Ballet Lermontov, who tauntingly questions her about her devotion to ballet before he sees her dance:

Lermontov: Why do you want to dance?
Vicky: Why do you want to live?
Lermontov: Well, I don't know exactly why, but...I must.
Vicky: That's my answer too.

Vicky is as compelled to dance as we are compelled to write, to paint, to sing, to act, to create, to live.
Intrigued by her saucy answer, Lermontov takes her on as a student. He sees her dance in a performance of Swan Lake in a small, modest venue and realizes her potential. Vicky is then invited to go with the company to Paris and Monte Carlo and when Lermontov loses his Russian prima ballerina (she wishes to marry - apparently it is impossible to think that she could possibly do both), he begins to see Vicky as a possible successor.

Lermontov pronounces, "A dancer who relies upon the doubtful comforts of human love will never be a great dancer. Never." When someone notes that you cannot change human nature, Lermontov snaps, "I think you can do even better than that - you can ignore it."

Lermontov creates a starring role for Vicky in the new ballet, The Red Shoes, written by a new young composer based on an old folk tale by Hans Christian Anderson. In the ballet, a young girl becomes enchanted with (and enchanted by) a magic pair of red shoes which permit her to dance and dance but the trick is that she is unable to stop dancing even when she wants to. In desperation, she even tries to cut the slippers off her feet but to no avail. The only way that she can stop dancing is by dying, with the slippers on.

These were/are our choices then, and now?

Rejecting one's art = death? Love = stop pursuing one's passion in life?

Despite the tragic ending, the film resonates. Are we in love with the fantasy of giving up everything (art, independence, freedom) for love? Yes, masochistically, sometimes we are.