Ode to Grandma and Photographer Sebastiano Salgado

Today is my Grandmother’s 95th birthday. It’s also the day I finished Wim Wenders 2014 Oscar nominated documentary and free Selby Library loaner “The Salt of the Earth”.

What could these two things possibly have in common?

First, my grandmother, Florence Baker, has endured countless deaths and tragedies. From her parents passing, to four siblings, to her husband and her 50 year old son, she has endured. She’s lived in Sarasota since Old 301 was a dirt road to the present where there is barely room for a sidewalk between condos. A mind bending life for anyone.

Similarly, the photographer, on which “The Salt of the Earth” was based, weathered existing among, and taking photos of, dying populations, from the Ethiopian famine to the Rwandan genocide. He also wrestled with his son’s Down Syndrome to the disintegration of his Dad’s ranch. Brazilian photographer, Sebastiano Salgado has also survived.

Not only has this unlikely pair lived to tell, so to speak; they are joyous.

My Grandmother has never giggled more in her life. She laughs at the strife of Pence’s book and its liberal rebuke; she shakes her head at my father who thinks he remembers better than she does.

Salgado found his renaissance in the replanting of trees on the barren Brazilian farm he inherited from his father; in essence turning away from the pessimism of human death to the wondrous birth and survival of nature.

Perhaps the key to life is to focus on joy and to turn our attention to where happiness and re-birth occur.

Both Grandma and Sabastiano would agree, it’s high time to stop the whining nonsense. Look around and take time to appreciate your blessings.

Paris, Texas a PPLL Extravaganza

Well, my main complaint about Paris, Texas was going to be the length (2 and a half hours), but as I type, I’m watching and listening to director Wim Wenders‘ commentary on deleted scenes and I am transfixed with hypnotic awe.

Except for the older vehicles, Pars, Texas (circa 1984) could be shown today. It’s a timeless tale of lost love and the invincible bond of parent and child. Compounded with the poignancy of the film, is the bittersweet sadness of Harry Dean Stanton’s life and death. If you get a chance and care, listen to Marc Maron‘s podcast with Harry Dean Stanton which captures Harry’s level of despair with a hint to some trauma suffered at the hands or mind of his mother that sent him into an abyss of eternal solitaire. Not that he didn’t date (and younger!) or have a good life, but there’a deep melancholy to his life story that leaks out in Paris, Texas and his last movie, Lucky.

In fact, I wish I had seen Paris, Texas before seeing Lucky as the two are definitely parallel films (though the former was written by Sam Shepard, another bone deep melancholy soul) and the latter by Logan Sparks. They share similar settings (southwestern desert), similar music (twangy soulful electric acoustic) and the search for meaning in a solitary hermetic life.

A scene from Paris, Texas that I adored reminded me of a scene from the original Jaws. In Jaws, Roy Schneider is at the dinner table with his son. Each begin mimicking the other’s facial expressions in a cute father-son bonding moment. In Paris, Texas, Harry Dean Stanton and his son, (played gorgeously by Hunter Carson, son of one of the writers for the film and Karen Black, the actress) execute a similar scene while walking on opposite sides of the street, mimicking each other’s gaits.

I loved the use of color in the film, from gorgeous Texas skies, to LA night sky; from matching red shirts to Nastassja Kinski and Hunter bother wearing green shirts with the green lit buildings behind them outside a Houston hotel, the film was produced with an artistic eye.

And don’t let me forget to praise Dean Stockwell and Aurore Clement who were also fabulous in their sibling and parental roles.

I’m partial to this film due to the aforementioned, and Hunter, the young boy loved his Star Wars action figures which took me back to my son’s childhood. I had just written to a friend the other day that if I could have one day of my life back to re-experience, it would be a day of fun with Liam (this was brought on by the sad closing of Toys R Us).

Two and a half hours of film didn’t seem long until an unnecessarily over written cathartic scene in a peep show between Nastassja Kinski and H.S. Stanton, but in watching the deleted scenes and becoming mesmerized by the Texas landscape and the German accent of Wim Wenders, it was worth the time.

PPLL for any newcomers to my blog stands for Pre Pension Library Loaner, #55thbirthdayninemonthsaway!