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Misfit: a person who is not suited or is unable to adjust to the circumstances of his or her particular situation.
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The violence of a morning routine… ;) & :)
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Michael: I hate so much about the way you choose to be.
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
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…courtesy of Dwight K. Schrute (The Office)
I never smile, if I can help it. Showing one’s teeth is a submission signal in primates. When someone smiles at me, all I can see is a chimpanzee begging for its life.
This post is the creative work of Iris Watts Hirideyo and is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
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Dwight: (to himself) So, we need someone to work this Saturday… and I think that that should be… Jim.
Jim: God, this is so sad. This is the smallest amount of power I’ve ever seen go to someone’s head.
(The Office - Season One)
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There’s nothing particularly fabulous about Amélie Poulain’s destiny or her life for that matter. For starters, she’s almost painfully shy. She grows as the subject of scrutiny. The scrutiny of a writer, of a filmmaker, of an actress, of an audience. She grows to be larger-than-life on the big screen (just as we alternately grow and shrink in life as the subjects of self-scrutiny, self-centeredness and an endless trail of actions and reactions.) She is sort of timeless too. She’s part contemporary, part a throwback to a different era altogether. Vivid enough up close to color the world around her as a painter would a canvas. And… she’s all about little things. She’s in essence a little thing herself.
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It’s impossibly simple - what we want. It fits perfectly inside the picture we draw for ourselves up in the attic of our minds, the one no one has access to without our say and one that may very well not make much sense at all. But hard-headedness dictates that it fits - yes, it does. And it’s… well, impossibly simple. Charcoal on paper. Black on white.
When asked whether she wanted out - out of the country, out of the picture perfect 50’s suburban life she had been leading with husband Frank, April Wheeler (played by Kate Winslet in Revolutionary Road) corrects the thought behind the question by retorting ‘I wanted in. I just wanted us to live again.’
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Fielding Pierce’s* beautiful chiseled face makes room for Irish eyes, traces of a blue collar background and a tranquility that should be beyond anyone. Out of those, what interests me suddenly is the tranquility, not the face (borrowed from an actor) and not any given circumstances but that brand of serenity that’s able to withstand even an outburst of anger, raised voice and all. That brand of serenity which will vie for control of a body and its soul and come out on top. There’s peace for a nucleus in him (or the appearance of it, for true peace can only be identified from within) and a bubble around it for protection. There is a soft spokenness to Fielding that the angles of his face strive to contradict.
That’s a quality shared by three other fictional characters I’ve revisited in memory recently: Gilbert Grape (What’s eating Gilbert Grape), Private Witt (The Thin Red Line) and John Halder (Good). Soft spokenness as the contour of a grappling with goodness.
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