A milestone of sorts
Today is the first day I've noticed my pants feeling kind of loose around the waist and baggy in the butt. Finally! The boyfriend keeps reminding me to not think so much about the numbers on the scale (which are not going down as quickly as I would like), because by riding I'm also building muscle, which weighs more than fat. So the fact that I'm not getting lighter very fast, doesn't necessarily mean I'm not getting smaller.
Last night while I was writing about that party I was also watching Heart of Light, a really beautiful movie about change and destruction and reconciliation and redemption in the life of an Inughuit man and his community. It has everything— violence, tragedy, an epic odyssey into a mystical world .... Plus, everyone in it is from Greenland! I'm going to need to watch it again tonight, because it's the kind of movie that deserves my full attention.
But the reason I brought it up was that it contains a scene in which this topless woman is banging a drum and dancing in a stone hut out on the tundra, and she's so thin you can see all of her ribs. It made me wonder, when was the last time I saw my own ribs like that? I could not remember. Probably sometime in my 20s, before I started spending so much time at a desk.
Lately I've caught myself several times thinking that if I could only lose some of this weight, I would be magically restored to the same body I had when I was in college. I have to keep reminding myself that getting fat is not the only thing that's happened to me over the last 20 years! I've also gotten older.
Another movie I watched this week, as is my custom at this time of year, was Herzog's 1979 remake of Nosferatu, the most luscious and evocative vampire movie ever made. One of the characters in that movie (in a very small role) is this little old Roma woman who's hanging out at the remote mountain inn where Jonathan Harker stops on his way down the mountain after being chomped by the Count. She's so tiny and ancient and just ... opaque. Totally mysterious and self-contained. A whole lifetime of harsh experience in the Carpathian mountains ... I would love to be able to get inside the head of a very old person like that and take a look around. And I hope I'll be even just half as fabulous as that when I'm a hundred and ten years old.
Last night while I was writing about that party I was also watching Heart of Light, a really beautiful movie about change and destruction and reconciliation and redemption in the life of an Inughuit man and his community. It has everything— violence, tragedy, an epic odyssey into a mystical world .... Plus, everyone in it is from Greenland! I'm going to need to watch it again tonight, because it's the kind of movie that deserves my full attention.
But the reason I brought it up was that it contains a scene in which this topless woman is banging a drum and dancing in a stone hut out on the tundra, and she's so thin you can see all of her ribs. It made me wonder, when was the last time I saw my own ribs like that? I could not remember. Probably sometime in my 20s, before I started spending so much time at a desk.
Lately I've caught myself several times thinking that if I could only lose some of this weight, I would be magically restored to the same body I had when I was in college. I have to keep reminding myself that getting fat is not the only thing that's happened to me over the last 20 years! I've also gotten older.
Another movie I watched this week, as is my custom at this time of year, was Herzog's 1979 remake of Nosferatu, the most luscious and evocative vampire movie ever made. One of the characters in that movie (in a very small role) is this little old Roma woman who's hanging out at the remote mountain inn where Jonathan Harker stops on his way down the mountain after being chomped by the Count. She's so tiny and ancient and just ... opaque. Totally mysterious and self-contained. A whole lifetime of harsh experience in the Carpathian mountains ... I would love to be able to get inside the head of a very old person like that and take a look around. And I hope I'll be even just half as fabulous as that when I'm a hundred and ten years old.
1 Comments:
Oh, thanks for reminding me to watch Nosferatu! It's been years since I've seen it.
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