Last week, I posted a rather cryptic, italicized blogpost talking about the kingdom of Sherlock. While I am quite pleased with this particular post, I acknowledged to myself while writing it that to an outsider unfamiliar with the television show Sherlock, it wouldn't make much sense. Admittedly, I don't have a very extensive readership and the majority of my readers are familiar with the show, but I figured I might as well do an explanatory follow-up post anyway. And there are other things to talk about.....
In 2009, Robert Downey Jr. starred in a wild, crazy, slow-motion-packed, artistic, and well-received movie, Sherlock Holmes. To the best of my knowledge, it had been some time since the last reimagining of the character, but evidently Downey's reinterpretation was awesome enough to spark a new Sherlock frenzy in the fiction-following public. Just a year after the Downey movie, Sherlock began airing on the BBC.
(There would be a picture here, but Google is being moody and won't let me put one in.) (Although probably you'd already figured out that Google is being moody if you noticed the wonky spacing and other formatting issues of my last few posts.) (I hate Google, by the way.)
Arguably one of the most creative adaptions of Arthur Conan Doyle's stories yet, Sherlock takes place in the modern world, with nicotine patches replacing pipes, a blog replacing stories published in magazines, and advanced microscopes and analysis machines replacing Sherlock's famous mishmash of test tubes and metal rods. Too modern to call each other "Holmes" and "Watson", the two main characters go by Sherlock and John; yet in spite of these radical changes, the plotlines still manage to remain impressively similar to Doyle's, with each episode finding its inspiration in one of the most famous stories. Four years later, the show has gained a massive, devoted fandom, critical acclaim, a few prestigious awards, and even its very own cruddy American rip-off, Elementary (featuring a short, blond, bearded Sherlock Holmes and an Asian-American female Watson) (I wish I was kidding).
Well, there're the facts. Now on to the opinions.
Ahem.
I. LOVE. THIS. SHOW.
At the current moment, I can find nothing whatsoever on this show to sincerely complain about. I'll see and hear various people commenting on Sherlock's "sociopathic" behaviors, saying he's cruel or dysfunctional or what-have-you, and I can only look at them quizzically. I hear people gripe about the writing, complaints like "It's so sad!" or "It's corny!" or "It's not like this in the books!" and I can only shake my head and wonder what's wrong with some people. I could go on. The point is, I love the writing and the directing, the sets and the acting. And the CHARACTERS. Sherlock. Moriarty. Mycroft. John. They're all simply perfect.
But believe me when I say that being a fan of Sherlock is no easy fate.
The three episodes of Series 1 aired, as I mentioned previously, in 2010. Series 2's three episodes weren't released until 2012. Both series ended in cliffhangers. While I hold the minority opinion that Series 1's cliffhanger was rather more stressful than Series 2's, I wasn't as much of a fan of the show when I first saw Series 1. In fact, while I always loved the show, I didn't really get thoroughly obsessed with it until last summer, when I introduced it to my best friend, Aloisa. Since then, we've been waiting impatiently along with the rest of the fandom for the arrival of Series 3 and the resolution of Series 2's dreadful finale.
Series 3, Episode 1, "The Empty Hearse", debuted in America a week ago today at 10 p.m. Aloisa came over a few hours before the episode started, and we spent the interim time trying to remain calm (as if that was ever going to happen) before finally breathlessly settling in with Kit-Kats and hot chocolate to watch.
Maybe it was because we were watching together, or maybe it was because of the excitement, or maybe it was just a magnificent episode. Whatever the case, I think that as of right now "The Empty Hearse" is my favorite episode of Sherlock. But who knows. Maybe that opinion will change tonight.
Episode 2, "The Sign of Three", starts in just over three hours. SQUEE.
I guess I haven't really explained why being a Sherlock fan is so difficult, so I'll get to it now: each series of Sherlock is only three episodes, with long hiatuses in between. This last hiatus was especially long, thanks to the involvement of stars Benedict the Brilliant and Martin the Magnanimous in the Hobbit movies (which are good enough that I can almost forgive them) (almost). The excessive joy that comes from finally seeing new episodes is somewhat dampened whenever I accidentally remember the fact that a mere week from today we'll be handed a new cliffhanger and go right back to desperately waiting for new episodes.
I read an article a few days ago that mentioned the words of Steven Moffat, one of the show's writers and creators, who reportedly said at some point that a series of Sherlock will never be more than three episodes, because, supposedly since each episode is about ninety minutes, making an episode of Sherlock is like making a movie.
By that logic, us lazy Americans with our twenty-two or twenty-four-episode seasons are cranking out eleven or twelve movies (since American television shows are forty-five minutes long) every year, while you're making three movies every other year.
I kind of have a love-hate relationship with Steven Moffat.
But I choose not to think about that now.
Instead, I am now going to commence my anticipation of another night of excitement, hot chocolate, Kit-Kat consumption, and glorious fangirling.
Long live Sherlock.
~Pearl Clayton
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Sunday, January 19, 2014
The Kingdom of Sherlock
Come, gather 'round, and I'll tell you a story.
Once, a long while ago, a great kingdom called Sherlock was built. Its many joyful inhabitants were ruled by a king, Sherlock himself, and a prince, called John. There were other lesser royals, but these two were the true leaders. Their reigns were built on laughter and camaraderie, heroics and triumphant victories.
But there were dark games afoot.
Overtime, another man, James, arose from the shadows with his own murky claims to the kingship. His motives were unquestionably of a cruel nature, but he was persuasive, and soon not only knights and deputies but even some of the citizens of Sherlock began rallying behind his bloodstained banner. Sherlock, John, and their still-loyal followers all began slowly to fear.
What few knew was that none of this was transpiring by accident.
Far away, hidden behind layers of lies and illusion, resided the three true rulers of the kingdom: Moffat, the Second Grand High Emperor of another kingdom known as Doctor Who; Lord Gatiss, Moffat's closest and most trusted friend and advisor; and Chancellor Thompson, a mysterious and unpredictable figure of fluctuating motives. Lost in their sheets of impenetrable mystery, the three plotted and wrote out the destinies of Sherlock's rulers, controlling each of every move of the great game as they carried it all too swiftly to the terrible conclusion they had planned for it.
And so, at last, one dark Midwinter night, their plot unfolded in a tumbling whirlwind of unforeseen tragedy. In one moment, Kings Sherlock and James were gone, Prince John left unfit for rule, and the kingdom collapsed into an endless Charybdis of insanity. Moffat, Gatiss, and Thompson sat back and watched with ever-increasing satisfaction as the citizens of Sherlock waited, confused, shellshocked, leaderless, growing evermore lost and desperate for some word, some glimpse, of their leaders. As the years passed, the citizens refused to let their hopes fade, but this became a greater challenge with each passing day.
But now, they are returning.
Tonight, long after sunset, Sherlock will be back, triumphant, carrying his banner, and we, we humble Sherlockians, shall welcome him with open arms.
I am Pearl Clayton, proud citizen of the kingdom of Sherlock.
And it's time.
Once, a long while ago, a great kingdom called Sherlock was built. Its many joyful inhabitants were ruled by a king, Sherlock himself, and a prince, called John. There were other lesser royals, but these two were the true leaders. Their reigns were built on laughter and camaraderie, heroics and triumphant victories.
But there were dark games afoot.
Overtime, another man, James, arose from the shadows with his own murky claims to the kingship. His motives were unquestionably of a cruel nature, but he was persuasive, and soon not only knights and deputies but even some of the citizens of Sherlock began rallying behind his bloodstained banner. Sherlock, John, and their still-loyal followers all began slowly to fear.
What few knew was that none of this was transpiring by accident.
Far away, hidden behind layers of lies and illusion, resided the three true rulers of the kingdom: Moffat, the Second Grand High Emperor of another kingdom known as Doctor Who; Lord Gatiss, Moffat's closest and most trusted friend and advisor; and Chancellor Thompson, a mysterious and unpredictable figure of fluctuating motives. Lost in their sheets of impenetrable mystery, the three plotted and wrote out the destinies of Sherlock's rulers, controlling each of every move of the great game as they carried it all too swiftly to the terrible conclusion they had planned for it.
And so, at last, one dark Midwinter night, their plot unfolded in a tumbling whirlwind of unforeseen tragedy. In one moment, Kings Sherlock and James were gone, Prince John left unfit for rule, and the kingdom collapsed into an endless Charybdis of insanity. Moffat, Gatiss, and Thompson sat back and watched with ever-increasing satisfaction as the citizens of Sherlock waited, confused, shellshocked, leaderless, growing evermore lost and desperate for some word, some glimpse, of their leaders. As the years passed, the citizens refused to let their hopes fade, but this became a greater challenge with each passing day.
But now, they are returning.
Tonight, long after sunset, Sherlock will be back, triumphant, carrying his banner, and we, we humble Sherlockians, shall welcome him with open arms.
I am Pearl Clayton, proud citizen of the kingdom of Sherlock.
And it's time.
Monday, January 13, 2014
On Disneyland
Greetings, readers.
On Saturday, I arrived home from a weeklong stay at my grandfather's house in California. You know those moments in time that end and you can't believe they're already over, but when you look back on everything that transpired in them you wonder how they could possibly feel so short? This trip was one of those moments. I feel like I only just left home until I really stop and think about all we did. It was amazing, seeing grandpa, wading in the ocean, visiting San Diego, etc., but the high point of the trip was probably the two days we spent at Disneyland and California Adventure (for those not in the "know", California Adventure is a second amusement park situated across a courtyard from Disneyland).
Even before we left for California, I knew I wanted to write a post about Disneyland. The only question was what to write. I'm going to go ahead and start with the highlights. They included:
- Walking on to Splash Mountain (and I mean seriously walking on, we waited for a total of maybe 30 seconds at the loading area) (and if you've ever been to Disneyland and ridden Splash Mountain, you know what a shockingly awesome occurrence that is)
- A completely unplanned and unexpected singalong with a pirate band on the raft ride back from Tom Sawyer's island (Tom Sawyer's island was a sort of "what the hey, let's just go check it out" detour while we waited for some Fast Passes to become valid, but boy were we glad we went; there was an upright bassist, a fiddler, a guitarist, and a flutist, all very talented, who led the crowded raft in a call-and-response drinking song that my whole family's been singing off-and-on ever since)
- Going into Innovations for the first time ever and about having a full-on fangirl spasm right there in front of everybody because of the lifesize replicas of every Ironman suit prominently featured in the movies (forgetful person that I am, it wasn't until the second day that I remembered Disney owns Marvel)
- Sitting on a garden hose while looking up at the place the hose connected to the water supply and feeling roughly two millimeters tall (but more on that later)
- My souvenir (I'll get back to that too)
But now on to what this post is actually going to be about. I don't remember exactly when the idea hit me, but it was sometime in the course of the first morning, and I've been mentally building this post since (in other words, it had better be good).
Throughout the two days, my father and grandfather (but especially my grandfather) often joked about the parks' miserliness, and I joined in. My dad shared his experience of being able to produce only $12.55 of a $12.57 bill and having to use a card instead of cash because the cashier refused to float him the two cents. "Well, dad, keep in mind that this is a struggling small business," I said. "They have to redeem every penny they can." We all laughed. This is how I communicate with my family: in jokes and good-natured mockery and sarcasm. I'm glad of it and I love them for it, but I'll confess there were times I felt a bit depressed by the picture we were painting. Disneyland is supposed to be the happiest place on Earth, not some uncompromising money-hoarding machine. In half the souvenir shops I ducked into, I overheard someone commenting on the prices of the items for sale, and frankly I agreed with them. Disneyland and California Adventure's tickets and purchasable items and food and everything are far from cheap, and oftentimes seem ridiculously overpriced. Add in other things, like the fact that characters from Disney's animated films have been added to the It's A Small World ride (which really annoys me much more than it should), or that some beautiful statues of Arial and Triton have been removed from the area in front of Fantasyland to make room for the weird Pixie Hollow walkthrough (random unnecessary aside: I hate the Pixie Hollow movies and if I ever watch one all the way through, it will only be The Pirate Fairy and it will only be because Tom Hiddleston is voicing Hook in that movie). To deviate from the park itself for a moment, the Disney Channel is a horrifying mess, and in my opinion even the animated films are gradually losing their innocence and magic.
In short, it feels like Disney is losing its soul.
But this week, in the park, despite all my joshing and irritation, I refused to believe that. It sure does a lot to convince me, but I simply will not view the Disney franchise as a corporate sellout. Not yet. After all, isn't one of Disney's big ideas looking beyond the appearance of things? Heck, my favorite animated Disney movie, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, is all about that. (Come to think of it, my second favorite animated Disney movie, Wreck-It Ralph, basically is as well. Do you think that says something deeply profound about my psyche?) (Second random unnecessary aside: when are they adding a Hunchback ride to Disneyland? I WANT A HUNCHBACK RIDE. Or attraction. Or SOMETHING.) (But I digress.)
I think that my favorite place in all of Disneyland is an easily missed little niche tucked it on one side of Sleeping Beauty's castle. It's not a ride or an "attraction", it's not a shop or a show. It's just a waterfall, decorated with finely made white statues of Snow White and the seven dwarfs. In the pool that the fall tumbles into, three stone fish on a simple mechanism pop out of the water, spin in a few circles while spouting fountains from their mouths, re-submerge, and repeat. On the walkway in front of the waterfall is a wishing well clearly modeled after the one at the beginning of Snow White that always has a layer of coins covering its floor. Painted around the top of the well is the inscription "Your wishes go to help children everywhere", referencing Disney's custom of donating all the money collected in the parks' various water features to charities.
Really, you could look at this little area as Disneyland's soul. Here it houses its beginning, Snow White, and here it houses its promises, its themes of charity and love and, perhaps most importantly, of wishes. Because, at it's heart, that's what Disneyland is. It's a wish, it's a dream, born in the mind of one of the most brave and imaginative people ever to change the world, grown and embodied and evolved over the years into the massive presence it is now. It's changed, and it's darkened, and it's lost some of its magic; such is the cost of existing in our world. But deep down, in its center, it's still just the beautiful realization of a wish, and as long as that niche exists in Disneyland, I will be incapable of seeing it as anything otherwise.
Now, I know this post is already insanely long, but I'm only about halfway done, so grab a drink or something and sit tight, because all that money is actually recognizing something, or really two very similar somethings: creativity and genius.
As I said a few paragraphs ago, one of my highlights was sitting on a garden hose and feeling two millimeters tall. That happened in California Adventure, in a section of the park the name of which I suddenly can't remember that is based on the movie A Bug's Life. A short journey through a structure that looks exactly like the inside of a cereal box deposits visitors in a world of straws twice the height of humans and lights fashioned to look like lightning bugs. The gigantic garden hose winds all over. One section of it is clearly meant to serve as a bench, winding around the place the hose connects to the ground, where a few tiny "leaks" spray water all over the ground, creating a play fountain that no child could resist romping in (a fact I saw evidence of when a small boy came by and stared in wonder at it before running through the water). We came to this place on the afternoon of the first day. By that time, I was growing tired and my feet were growing unbearably achy, so I seated myself comfortably on the hose and just started at the tiny waterfalls while munching on a churro. After a while, I really did feel tiny.
Also in California Adventure is the newly constructed Carsland. I have no love whatsoever for the movie Cars and was far from enthusiastic about the idea of visiting a land based on it, but even I had to admit I was impressed by the flawless replication of Radiator Springs that I entered. I felt like I was walking into a movie. I had the same feeling while waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride; the sets and props are unarguably masterfully made. There are even more examples, like the animatronics in the Fantasyland-style rides of both parks. The It's a Small World ride was completely redesigned, inside and outside, for the holiday season. Disneyland's main street, from the layout to the false fronts, looks just how I imagine an old-style city. California Adventure's main street is a perfect recreation of an early twentieth century California street. And do I even need to mention the freakin' French Quarter? The designers and architects employed by Disney are undoubtedly people of great creativity, ingenuity, perfectionism, and above all dedication, and, in my opinion, the admission price is excusable, because by paying it we pay homage to their hard work.
The souvenir I selected from California Adventure reflects a similar idea. It's a book of paintings, sketches, and digital renderings of the Disney princesses. Some of them are excellent copies of the original animation. Others are complete reimaginings. One drawing depicts Aurora leaning down to waken a sleeping Prince Phillip. Another shows Belle in an armored yellow jumpsuit balancing on the shoulder of a massive robotic Beast. Elsewhere in the book, Belle appears in a painting modeled on a famous painting of Madame Pompadour (the fact that I'm a Whovian immediately made this one one of my favorite images in the book). If I had to choose an overall favorite painting, I would find it quite a difficult choice, but I might select the extremely colorful and stylistic one of Mulan which I believe is intended to reflect traditional Chinese artwork, or perhaps the cover drawing in which the outline of Snow White's face is made with flower buds and leaves. Whatever my favorite, each image is beautiful, even the ones I dislike. Why?
Because each is a celebration of creativity and originality and new ideas, which I think is and always has been the Disney Company's point. They take old stories and change them and release them, for better or for worse, but certainly for forever. For all its commercialism and expense, Disneyland is still beautiful, because Disneyland is brilliant. It's movies made real and fairytales made believable. Disneyland is a dream, a thousand dreams, all come true.
I guess that's why they call it the happiest place on Earth.
~Pearl Clayton
On Saturday, I arrived home from a weeklong stay at my grandfather's house in California. You know those moments in time that end and you can't believe they're already over, but when you look back on everything that transpired in them you wonder how they could possibly feel so short? This trip was one of those moments. I feel like I only just left home until I really stop and think about all we did. It was amazing, seeing grandpa, wading in the ocean, visiting San Diego, etc., but the high point of the trip was probably the two days we spent at Disneyland and California Adventure (for those not in the "know", California Adventure is a second amusement park situated across a courtyard from Disneyland).
Even before we left for California, I knew I wanted to write a post about Disneyland. The only question was what to write. I'm going to go ahead and start with the highlights. They included:
- Walking on to Splash Mountain (and I mean seriously walking on, we waited for a total of maybe 30 seconds at the loading area) (and if you've ever been to Disneyland and ridden Splash Mountain, you know what a shockingly awesome occurrence that is)
- A completely unplanned and unexpected singalong with a pirate band on the raft ride back from Tom Sawyer's island (Tom Sawyer's island was a sort of "what the hey, let's just go check it out" detour while we waited for some Fast Passes to become valid, but boy were we glad we went; there was an upright bassist, a fiddler, a guitarist, and a flutist, all very talented, who led the crowded raft in a call-and-response drinking song that my whole family's been singing off-and-on ever since)
- Going into Innovations for the first time ever and about having a full-on fangirl spasm right there in front of everybody because of the lifesize replicas of every Ironman suit prominently featured in the movies (forgetful person that I am, it wasn't until the second day that I remembered Disney owns Marvel)
- Sitting on a garden hose while looking up at the place the hose connected to the water supply and feeling roughly two millimeters tall (but more on that later)
- My souvenir (I'll get back to that too)
But now on to what this post is actually going to be about. I don't remember exactly when the idea hit me, but it was sometime in the course of the first morning, and I've been mentally building this post since (in other words, it had better be good).
Throughout the two days, my father and grandfather (but especially my grandfather) often joked about the parks' miserliness, and I joined in. My dad shared his experience of being able to produce only $12.55 of a $12.57 bill and having to use a card instead of cash because the cashier refused to float him the two cents. "Well, dad, keep in mind that this is a struggling small business," I said. "They have to redeem every penny they can." We all laughed. This is how I communicate with my family: in jokes and good-natured mockery and sarcasm. I'm glad of it and I love them for it, but I'll confess there were times I felt a bit depressed by the picture we were painting. Disneyland is supposed to be the happiest place on Earth, not some uncompromising money-hoarding machine. In half the souvenir shops I ducked into, I overheard someone commenting on the prices of the items for sale, and frankly I agreed with them. Disneyland and California Adventure's tickets and purchasable items and food and everything are far from cheap, and oftentimes seem ridiculously overpriced. Add in other things, like the fact that characters from Disney's animated films have been added to the It's A Small World ride (which really annoys me much more than it should), or that some beautiful statues of Arial and Triton have been removed from the area in front of Fantasyland to make room for the weird Pixie Hollow walkthrough (random unnecessary aside: I hate the Pixie Hollow movies and if I ever watch one all the way through, it will only be The Pirate Fairy and it will only be because Tom Hiddleston is voicing Hook in that movie). To deviate from the park itself for a moment, the Disney Channel is a horrifying mess, and in my opinion even the animated films are gradually losing their innocence and magic.
In short, it feels like Disney is losing its soul.
But this week, in the park, despite all my joshing and irritation, I refused to believe that. It sure does a lot to convince me, but I simply will not view the Disney franchise as a corporate sellout. Not yet. After all, isn't one of Disney's big ideas looking beyond the appearance of things? Heck, my favorite animated Disney movie, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, is all about that. (Come to think of it, my second favorite animated Disney movie, Wreck-It Ralph, basically is as well. Do you think that says something deeply profound about my psyche?) (Second random unnecessary aside: when are they adding a Hunchback ride to Disneyland? I WANT A HUNCHBACK RIDE. Or attraction. Or SOMETHING.) (But I digress.)
I think that my favorite place in all of Disneyland is an easily missed little niche tucked it on one side of Sleeping Beauty's castle. It's not a ride or an "attraction", it's not a shop or a show. It's just a waterfall, decorated with finely made white statues of Snow White and the seven dwarfs. In the pool that the fall tumbles into, three stone fish on a simple mechanism pop out of the water, spin in a few circles while spouting fountains from their mouths, re-submerge, and repeat. On the walkway in front of the waterfall is a wishing well clearly modeled after the one at the beginning of Snow White that always has a layer of coins covering its floor. Painted around the top of the well is the inscription "Your wishes go to help children everywhere", referencing Disney's custom of donating all the money collected in the parks' various water features to charities.
Really, you could look at this little area as Disneyland's soul. Here it houses its beginning, Snow White, and here it houses its promises, its themes of charity and love and, perhaps most importantly, of wishes. Because, at it's heart, that's what Disneyland is. It's a wish, it's a dream, born in the mind of one of the most brave and imaginative people ever to change the world, grown and embodied and evolved over the years into the massive presence it is now. It's changed, and it's darkened, and it's lost some of its magic; such is the cost of existing in our world. But deep down, in its center, it's still just the beautiful realization of a wish, and as long as that niche exists in Disneyland, I will be incapable of seeing it as anything otherwise.
Now, I know this post is already insanely long, but I'm only about halfway done, so grab a drink or something and sit tight, because all that money is actually recognizing something, or really two very similar somethings: creativity and genius.
As I said a few paragraphs ago, one of my highlights was sitting on a garden hose and feeling two millimeters tall. That happened in California Adventure, in a section of the park the name of which I suddenly can't remember that is based on the movie A Bug's Life. A short journey through a structure that looks exactly like the inside of a cereal box deposits visitors in a world of straws twice the height of humans and lights fashioned to look like lightning bugs. The gigantic garden hose winds all over. One section of it is clearly meant to serve as a bench, winding around the place the hose connects to the ground, where a few tiny "leaks" spray water all over the ground, creating a play fountain that no child could resist romping in (a fact I saw evidence of when a small boy came by and stared in wonder at it before running through the water). We came to this place on the afternoon of the first day. By that time, I was growing tired and my feet were growing unbearably achy, so I seated myself comfortably on the hose and just started at the tiny waterfalls while munching on a churro. After a while, I really did feel tiny.
Also in California Adventure is the newly constructed Carsland. I have no love whatsoever for the movie Cars and was far from enthusiastic about the idea of visiting a land based on it, but even I had to admit I was impressed by the flawless replication of Radiator Springs that I entered. I felt like I was walking into a movie. I had the same feeling while waiting in line for the Indiana Jones ride; the sets and props are unarguably masterfully made. There are even more examples, like the animatronics in the Fantasyland-style rides of both parks. The It's a Small World ride was completely redesigned, inside and outside, for the holiday season. Disneyland's main street, from the layout to the false fronts, looks just how I imagine an old-style city. California Adventure's main street is a perfect recreation of an early twentieth century California street. And do I even need to mention the freakin' French Quarter? The designers and architects employed by Disney are undoubtedly people of great creativity, ingenuity, perfectionism, and above all dedication, and, in my opinion, the admission price is excusable, because by paying it we pay homage to their hard work.
The souvenir I selected from California Adventure reflects a similar idea. It's a book of paintings, sketches, and digital renderings of the Disney princesses. Some of them are excellent copies of the original animation. Others are complete reimaginings. One drawing depicts Aurora leaning down to waken a sleeping Prince Phillip. Another shows Belle in an armored yellow jumpsuit balancing on the shoulder of a massive robotic Beast. Elsewhere in the book, Belle appears in a painting modeled on a famous painting of Madame Pompadour (the fact that I'm a Whovian immediately made this one one of my favorite images in the book). If I had to choose an overall favorite painting, I would find it quite a difficult choice, but I might select the extremely colorful and stylistic one of Mulan which I believe is intended to reflect traditional Chinese artwork, or perhaps the cover drawing in which the outline of Snow White's face is made with flower buds and leaves. Whatever my favorite, each image is beautiful, even the ones I dislike. Why?
Because each is a celebration of creativity and originality and new ideas, which I think is and always has been the Disney Company's point. They take old stories and change them and release them, for better or for worse, but certainly for forever. For all its commercialism and expense, Disneyland is still beautiful, because Disneyland is brilliant. It's movies made real and fairytales made believable. Disneyland is a dream, a thousand dreams, all come true.
I guess that's why they call it the happiest place on Earth.
~Pearl Clayton
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Year's Demise, Year's Beginning
I debated a long time about what I should say in my New Year's Day post. The fact is, I knew it wouldn't exactly be a happy post if I shared exactly what was on my mind. See, on first thought, the idea of 2014 doesn't really make me happy. At first glance, yesterday, as the hours too quickly ticked on toward midnight, I could see only the endings. Another year gone. More opportunities lost. More dreams dead. More dust. More decay. More despair. Well, I couldn't very well post about that. This is supposed to be a happy blog.
So I started trying to think of all the things I had to look forward to this year, and here were the first things that popped into my head: A trip to Disneyland. Sherlock series 3. Two Marvel movies. How to Train Your Dragon 2. A Barnes & Noble giftcard which I shall soon use to purchase books which I will then read. Why, this year I'll finally read several books I've been meaning to read for a long time.
So then I thought, yeesh, Pearl. Are you looking forward to anything that isn't based around some fictional world?
And then I thought..... no, I don't believe I am. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
I've already talked about this a little in some earlier posts, but I might as well bring it back up. I love fiction because it makes me happy. Reading about the triumphs of characters who technically don't exist but might as well helps me get through bad days. Watching their triumphs play out on screens, accompanied by dazzling visuals and stirring soundtracks, makes me feel even better. Fiction brings on invigorating laughter and cleansing sobs and delighted fangirly shrieks. It causes a feeling of wellness in times of illness and happiness in times of sadness. I ride through life in a haze of stories, those created by others and those created by me, because I cannot imagine how I'd manage any other way. Against all odds, the anticipation of new movies and books and Sherlock and Disneyland have made me excited for 2014.
Welcome to the new year.
It's going to be a great one.
~Pearl Clayton
So I started trying to think of all the things I had to look forward to this year, and here were the first things that popped into my head: A trip to Disneyland. Sherlock series 3. Two Marvel movies. How to Train Your Dragon 2. A Barnes & Noble giftcard which I shall soon use to purchase books which I will then read. Why, this year I'll finally read several books I've been meaning to read for a long time.
So then I thought, yeesh, Pearl. Are you looking forward to anything that isn't based around some fictional world?
And then I thought..... no, I don't believe I am. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
I've already talked about this a little in some earlier posts, but I might as well bring it back up. I love fiction because it makes me happy. Reading about the triumphs of characters who technically don't exist but might as well helps me get through bad days. Watching their triumphs play out on screens, accompanied by dazzling visuals and stirring soundtracks, makes me feel even better. Fiction brings on invigorating laughter and cleansing sobs and delighted fangirly shrieks. It causes a feeling of wellness in times of illness and happiness in times of sadness. I ride through life in a haze of stories, those created by others and those created by me, because I cannot imagine how I'd manage any other way. Against all odds, the anticipation of new movies and books and Sherlock and Disneyland have made me excited for 2014.
Welcome to the new year.
It's going to be a great one.
~Pearl Clayton
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