14 February 2014
Today, of all days, I went shopping with my sisters. A bad idea from the get-go, because everybody is out on a date. There are people everywhere. In the middle of it all, C. and I had a fight, which ended with the both of us walking away in opposite directions. I followed through with my word that I’ll go home. It took me an hour to get a cab, which was conducive for mentally bickering with my sister until I’ve exhausted all my energy at being mad. Now I am in my room, have no appetite for dinner, and am just planning on going to sleep after this letter.
The one good highlight: we watched The Monuments Men earlier. It made me think of all the instances that people fought for art. How that act translates to our own personal lives. How art saves, what role it plays in society, in history, in our daily existence.
It also made me wonder about our own wars, and the People Power revolution–did art come into the conversation? Did anybody think it was worth protecting?
Papa and I always seem to have versions of this argument from time to time: how important is art, when compared to other, practical things? How much of it should consume your life? And is it worth it?
Questions, and not enough answers. I like it when a movie does that to me.
Now, to sleep,
P.S. Add these two to the list of things I still owe you: my own unpacking of The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore, and reading Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. It’s been a year now and I still haven’t gotten around to them. I’ve watched the short film a few times more over the past few months, but I’ve yet to read the book. I have a digital copy, but it seems like something I would like to hold physically in my hands.