)(( hannah mello ))(

What a film can do.

I sat there tonight. The movie theater (the film will go unnamed). And I remembered for the first time in years, what a movie can do.

In Winter 2004, the same thing had happened. I went with my posse of girls to see a flick, and I ended up being the last person to leave the theater.

Spring 2004. Fall 2001. The same.

There were films I didn't even get to see on the Big Screen that will forever be on the wall of my mind. Constantly challenging my thinking and perceptions of how the world works or could. Films from Fall 1981, Summer 1937, Fall 1941.

I wish we could talk about what dates and times and films there were for you. When a film goes into a space of influence and impact that is surprising to the point of astounding.

Tonight that happened.

I've been working a lot this year. 4 jobs. Tons of hours. A lot of mental calisthenics always. A lot gets put to the back burner. When I'm working hard, I dig in. Too far in. Tonight was the first night in months that I spent intentional quality time alone. I really needed it. Time to creatively and spontaneously shape a night. Time to breathe and be. Time to think about things that I don't usually schedule in.

So, I stepped into the theater just for fun and I left reminded. Reminded of the reason why life excites me sometimes. Reminded of what thinking makes me want to sign up- to get on board- to give time- to be a part of something big and something worth it.

I'm grateful. I'm grateful for what a film can do. I don't know how 2005 would have played out otherwise. A film, actually 2 (Spring 2004, Winter 2004), really pushed me out to adventure in a way that I am still venturing now.

Wow. What a film can do...

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:38 PM 1 Comments

What a cold can do.

Coming down with a cold can be just the thing to awaken the senses. Along with the sinus headache, all-around-aches, conjestion, etc can come a sensitivity that nothing else could afford.

Today, I found myself under the weather. Leaving both jobs early, under the direction of both bosses to REST-- the second of the two advising to sit in the sun and get Vitamin D; sweating it out.

I did both.

What a cold can do...
- Remind you of your insecurities and vulnerable emotions.
- Awaken dreams and desires for the present and future.
- Open your eyes to the beauty of nature surrounding. The sunset. The Full Moon rising. The foam pounding the sand at the beach.
- Provide moments for laughter and comedy in the stead of tasks and work.
- Force your body to inactivity and your mind to thoughtfulness.
- Demand that you sleep, sleep, and sleep even when you didn't know such sleep could be possible (in duration and depth).
- Inspire loved ones (and even unexpected loving ones-- like bosses and coworkers) to care and to be caring.

It's truly amazing, isn't it, what a cold can do?!



photo by Bogac Erguvenc.

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:35 PM 1 Comments

Status =

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:28 PM 1 Comments

The Where.

I'm sure all of us could name a specific location where some significant thought has occurred.

Maybe we kept going back, and it became "the spot". Maybe we couldn't go back because it was too significant of a place, and returning would only revitalize emotion/the moment better left in the past.

7+ locations have been sites of such significance for me.


1. The Sitting Tree (Mello Mountain) 1983-1991
From 0-9 years old, Mello Mountain was my home. A little hill we named as such, on 350 acres of mountain land. There was one particular tree with a branch, much like the tree pictured here, that protruded from the tree-trunk low. It overlooked the valley that Hwy 17 wound through, so far below. My mom and me would always go there. Separately, and always alone, but we knew it was "the spot" for both of us. I'd go there to pray, to think, to dream.


2. Branciforte Drive Creekside 1994-1996
Everyday after school, I would go home, change out of my uniform, lace up my tennis shoes, and walk into the forest. We lived on 36 acres with 5 other families, and most of the acreage was the undeveloped wood. I found a spot next to the trickling stream where the air was always so cool. You could smell the moss. You could hear the trickle of the water falling from the rock. So much space was created for me there. Space to be silent. SO MUCH was going on in my life around that time. Turbulent times. Tragedy. That space saved me.


3. Twin Lakes Beach 2005 & Today
For some reason, I found myself on the shores of Twin Lakes Beach that morning, June 1 of 2005 when in silent moments, I decided internally to move overseas. Ever since then, that spot of sand has been a place of rest and thinking for me. It's not because I think it's the best beach, or the best spot in Santa Cruz, but rather, it's where I feel PULLED TO whenever something is going on with me. I went there after moving back to CA from NYC. Life felt simple and quiet there. Even tonight, after seeing a challenging film, I found myself there on that beach's shores, prawn tacos in hand (Thanks to El Palomar's goodness), thinking and at peace.


4. Napoli, Italia, Waterfront (Chiaia district) 2005-2007
The very first day I arrived in Napoli as a resident, I found myself on the railing overlooking Vesuvius and the Mediterranean waters before me. There was something about standing with the Mountain in view. Feeling small. That was a big time period for me. A period of years where I was making big decisions internally about the kind of woman I wanted to be. What from the past I wanted to leave behind. What of my family heritage I wanted to carry into the future; what I wanted to leave behind. There in the quiet of those moments, hearing the Italian young people laughing and on a moto (motorcycles) nearby. The lapping of the salty sea. I returned to that waterfront every day I could. After a day of teaching nearby, I would take time to walk. Before moving back to America in '07, I returned to Napoli to meet myself here. To remember all that had been wrought in my heart during my time there.


5. Piazza Grande, Modena Italia 2006-2007
I lived across from this piazza my second year in Italy. I saw the cathedral tower through my kitchen window. But nothing was like being in the piazza at night. Using the free wireless on my laptop. Hearing the echo of laughter from Cafe Concerto's outdoor seating in the piazza. The almost-always live jazz band. The click of Italian women's heels on the cobblestones. The rickety clatter of bikes bumping up and down on the stones' rise and fall. Seeing others like myself sitting alone in the quiet of the night. The moon bright over the piazza. The stars dim.


6. Glendalough, Ireland (Wicklow County) April 2007
It's ironic that today is the day before Easter and I'm writing about Glendalough. I visited Ireland intentionally that Spring Break, my second year in Italy. I desperately needed nature. I was tired of the glamor of Northern Italia. The fashion. Ferrari. Ducati. And, there I found myself canceling my Dublin hostel reservation to go to these Irish mountains-- all because of a German girl in a hostel's recommendation. And it was there that SO MUCH happened in my soul. I hiked 9 miles over a mountain on Easter Sunday (long story), and the next day, I actually video taped myself on the shores of this here-pictured Glendalough lake, sharing my heart. The questions in my head were: "What do I want to do with my life?"; "Do I want to go back to America?"; "What do I value most?"; "At the end of my life, what kind of life do I want to have lived?"... Existential wrestlings. Glendalough was the setting. I still hold dear the photos I have from Glendalough. I feel like there was a lot that was happening to me during that time.


7. The steps of the church on the corner of Bleeker & 6th Avenue, NYC 2008
I loved living in the West Village of New York City. In the buzz of my day, coming home to quiet Morton Street felt peaceful and truly like home. But it was there, just around the corner from the Washington Square Park train station, on the odd intersection of Bleeker & 6th, that I had some really beautiful and true moments. There was a fountain, just outside Joe's Pizza, and across from that a little cathedral-like church. I would go get self-serve, weighed frozen yogurt at Yogurtland and sit on that church's steps. Looking out to the piazza with the fountain and all the West Village people, I loved hearing the sounds. Feeling in the middle of so much activity, and yet in a little bubble of solace. The full moon would always seem to sit perfectly in view.


So, a toast. To the rarity of solitude and silence. To the places that make such a rare gift possible. :) Cheers. Cheers.

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:27 PM 0 Comments

Artiste.

The artwork of Nikki McClure has always deeply impacted and inspired me.

Her medium: intricate paper cuts. She is known for posters and calendars, and children's books...

I first intersected her work when in Bookshop Santa Cruz, just before moving to Greece. I bought 2 posters ("Process" & "Collaborate") that ended up adorning Grecian, Italian, New Jersey, and NYC walls those next 3 years.

Not long ago, I found that she is a favorite of the Swansondexel family; her work adorning their Big Basin Forest walls.

Here are some works that have impacted me of late.

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:09 PM 0 Comments

Challenged by Phoebe. ~

Popcorn in hand, in the very back theater @ the Nickelodeon downtown, I settled into the seat. "Phoebe in Wonderland".

It was beautiful. From the first scene - on.
It was so crisp. Every scene was intentional, every word to-the-point.
And, afterwards, I was left deeply quiet inside.

I found myself at Twin Lakes beach so so so quiet inside. Everything outside felt SO LOUD, and my head and heart felt so still but aware and active.

I love when a movie gives me a good whupping. Initially, my thoughts were reflective; in adjective-form.

Masterpiece.
The creativity / life in the wardrobe, the wonder created in every frame.

Challenging.
Confronting. The characters' way-- their reactions, their wrestlings-- made you stop and turn to yourself, looking to see what parts of yourself resemble them.

Riveting.
I was sucked in.

No, this isn't a movie review. It's self-expression. I have been challenged. Here are some corners of how the film challenged me.

- I want to be a good mom.
...
...
- I want to listen well-- to give the gift of hearing another person in the moment they need to be HEARD.
- Life goes so fast. You turn around and all your choices have been made.
- I want to help create space for people. Space to just be. To talk; to learn; to grow; to discover.
- Confessing anger can free you to acceptance.

...
I don't really know what to say. I don't even know why a blog post like this should be published. ha. But I guess, I'll make a toast. To the small things that affect your life course. To the art that compels your soul to expand. To the characters that challenge character. A toast.




Other movies that have challenged me like this one...
- A Man Named Pearl
- The Emperor's Club
- Life as a House
- Gandhi
- Felicity (TV show)
- Brideshead Revisited
- The Kingdom of Heaven
- The Simpson Movie
- what others... I don't know... but I love movies like these...

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 8:08 PM 0 Comments

What I love. }}}

I love getaways.

Spots where you know you can tuck away and enjoy a moment.

...

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 11:08 PM 0 Comments

Word of the Hour.

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:58 PM 0 Comments

Dali. ___

For some odd reason, tonight I'm in the mood for Salvador Dali.

In January 2007, I visited Dali's town and the place of his self-made museum-- Figueras, Spain.

Sofia and I met in Barcelona for New Years. We lived together in Modena, Italy-- teaching at the same language schools and spending a lot of time together. She was 1/2 Italian, 1/2 English. Knew both languages perfectly-- perfect accents. What everyone wishes for.

Sofie's father was a famous photographer in Italy that, curiously, collected jars of honey from all over the world. In his little dank kitchen in Prato (a city in Tuscany), he cooked up the best Carbonara Pasta IN THE WORLD and then allowed me to pick what honey we would eat for dessert. There were glass jars that looked self-packed from one of his photography trips to Africa or Southeast Asia. There were jars that were labeled and price-tagged from specialty shops in Europe. Such a conglomerate. Such a wealth of stories in that honey cabinet.

So, Sofia...

We met up in Spain just after I had spent a week and a half in Paris. Some time by myself, some time with my parents for Christmas. They had flown to meet me there. It was my mom's 50th birthday that December, and it was her wish.

I had arrived to Barcelona late.

My flight from Paris had been cancelled.

Gotta love Ryan Air/Easy Jet. My flight was literally 2 euro (a special promo price), but the airport was 30 miles away and when I got there, it was cancelled. Had to pay 20 euro for the bus all over again, back to the city, back to the hostel I had been staying at. Ha, but back to PARIS. :) Spent time at Notre Damn that extra day-- and more luxurious time at my beloved Shakespeare and Co bookshop and historical nexus....

But, that extra night in Paris ended up connecting me with Adam/Jose-- New Yorker best friends on vacation-- who I would later work with and share life with in New York City, as a resident, 6 months later. A serendipitous, providential twist of fate...

Wendy and Julia, my Santa Cruz CA friends, met us as well in Barcelona.

They were my Poetry Group friends-- a poetry group Wendy, Molly and I started the Summer of '06-- The Monday Poets' Society. Still in existence today. I actually missed our monthly meeting tonight. Had a Greek dinner with Natalie on the West Side instead.

Barcelona.

We had a crazy New Year's Eve night, where, in searching for a restaurant, all 4 of us got lost and ended up in a dark, quiet neighborhood when midnight came. Anti-climactic and very un-Barcelona New Year's Eve stroke-of-midnight. Sofia and I ended up on the main street later that "night" / early morning having Tapas and watching the sun come up.

The next day, New Year's Day, just Sofia and I ended up on a train to Figueras. I took this picture that morning on the way to the train. One of my one-on-one English students from Modena had told me that I had to go to Figueras. She described the museum that Dali had designed for his own works-- the same location one of his first paintings had originally been displayed ((she told me in English :) ... yey for oh-so-wonderful English conversation practice where I learned so many historical and travel gems)). I knew it was a must-see.

So, Sofie and I took in every square inch of that museum. So colorful. So strange. With the big eggs and bread loaves on the exterior of the building. Ah! I found some pictures of my own... Here and Here and

I remember this ceiling work (left)... There are many details to it as well... A photo I took of a corner of that same ceiling is Here ...

I also loved the sculpture on the steps leading up to the museum... similar to this one photoed here. There's something about it that moves me.

Of all the fun pieces of the museum (there being a few installations that were so great), it was the section of drawings that captured me the most.

I have a thing for unfinished sketches. Sketches that were just observation-based scribbles, or were studies for a later painting.

I remember the first time I discovered my love of sketches was in the National Gallery of Scotland in Edinburgh. They were Rembrandt's sketches of Jesus' acts as told in the Gospels of the New Testament. Those sketches are forever in my mind... The light and motion and mystery captured by them.

It's amazing too to behold a painting done by a modernist-- or a symbolist, or some such wacky mind-- that looks more "traditional" or representational, even be it impressionistic.

I remember going to The Picasso Museum in Paris and seeing his earlier works...

This one (left) that Dali painted of a scene near Figueras is beautiful to me... and even more beautiful because it was dreamed by the same mind that expressed far more unbelievable creations.

So, a toast. A toast to Salvador Dali specifically. The man that made unparalleled symbols and forms. A toast to remembering the gems from history-- not just art history, but my personal history-- that bring gratitude and joy... :)

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 9:57 PM 3 Comments