narrative

On cuff links, a sartorial detail.

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If you are a keen reader of this blog, you might remember that I mentioned before that my dad was an international banking executive. This added to the fact that his brother-in-law (my uncle) was a top tailor (to the king and other celebrities) means that my dad was always impeccably dressed. Top it all off with the fact that we lived in London in the early to mid-eighties where he had access to Jermyn St. Shirts, and you get the full picture.

As would be expected, I inherited his shirts as soon as they were slightly worn, which was awesome! But there was one main issue with these shirts: they had French cuffs that required cuff links…

So, over the years I have accumulated a little collection of cuff links, mostly given to me, some purchased, some exchanged with other cuff link wearers, some lost, some broken.

Hard core traditionalists insist on wearing “chain” cuff links where a small chain holds together the two buttons. The problem with these is that they take much longer to put on since there is no place to leverage power to push the button through the buttonhole. Stiff cuff links with a swinging barrette are easy to slip on. A third variety are silk knots, these come in many colors and combinations and are fairly easy to put on, although they are frowned upon by serious sartorialists, I occasionally wear them with no shame!

An added plus of interesting cuff links is that they are automatic conversation starters, you just need to pay attention to the wearer of cuff links to see if there is a story there. You guessed it, many of mine do have stories, from just showcasing my passions: coffee, Real Madrid, the Camino, etc., to personal stories of who gave them to me, etc.

Can you guess my favorite cuff links in the picture? Hint: My girlfriend gave them to me so I would not lose my true North…

Do you wear cuff links? What is your story? Share in the comments below!!

Saying farewell is hard. Fr. George and emotional healing.

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“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.”

Rumi

Life is a story, a narrative, with a beginning and an end, and in between (hopefully) many chapters, some longer and some shorter. When a chapter finishes, or is left unfinished, it is emotional. It is emotional because you are back to a blank page, you can start a new chapter -you should start a new chapter.

Saying goodbye is a process shared by all humanity, the emotions that we share when we say farewell. Books, films, plays, operas, ballets, songs, poems (especially poems), you name it, have been devoted to saying goodbye, how we deal with it, how we process, the whole messy procedure. And here is the space for magic to happen in the space left by the person who has left. As you let go of the person leaving, you are on the threshold, you are now open to growth, to seeing what you can take from the friendship, or whatever it was, and make yourself a better person, a more understanding person. Or you can become bitter and insecure.

It is in these transitional moments of our lives that authentic transformation can happen. Otherwise, it is just business as usual and an eternally boring, status quo existence. 

Richard Rohr

From family members, to loved ones, friends that sometimes you love as much as family, or even someone you have recently met but with whom you connected with, and everybody in between. Saying goodbye is hard.

The key word there is connection; the moment you share, you laugh, you cry, everything forms a connection with the other person.

Fr. George generously invited me to go paddle boarding with him last Fall, it became a bit of a tradition, going out early in the morning for an hour or so, and then getting a coffee at Willy Cafe before heading to work. We connected. Now he is leaving our school and going back to Orlando. As a proper surfer, Fr. George is known to wear Hawaiian shirts when not in his clerics; The other day, to celebrate him, we all agreed to wear Hawaiian shirts in his honor, it was fun and moving at the same time!

Words are so clumsy at explaining the feelings, the void left in your heart when someone leaves, dies, ghosts you, whatever.

Of the many, many words to express goodbyes, I like Rumi’s quote at the top and this poem a lot. What are your favorite farewell songs, poems, books? Let me know in the comments.

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Breakfast in West Palm Beach: Hive Bakery and Café

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Those of you who follow this blog at all might know that it started as a way to chronicle my Harley-Davidson (RIP) ride from Boston to Austin, Texas and back looking for a PhD program in Spanish Literature in 2011. After the trip I just kept writing and writing. I write about anything that interests me in any way: Academics and education, literature, The Camino de Santiago, culture, cities, food, cigars, travel and adventure, etc. Today is restaurant review day:

I recently had the opportunity to have breakfast with a dear friend in West Palm Beach at Hive Bakery and Café.

The restaurant is on iconic Route 1 (South Dixie Highway) across the street from the Norton Museum (which I have written about a lot, click here). The whole block is owned and run by the same folks. They have a home decoration store and business, and a clothing store.

Hive sits on a nice corner and has the obligatory artsy design (with a beehive pattern, get it?). Inside it is warm, well lit, and airy, very pleasant, with all the de rigueur décor. Your eyes immediately catch the counter full of delicious looking pastries. This being 2022, and West Palm Beach, the food was healthy but delicious, you will not find greasy diner breakfast fare here. The coffee was top notch, well made with quality coffee. My pain au chocolat looked very elegant, crunchy on the outside, but it missed the buttery softness inside. The service was attentive and professional. It was a perfect experience.

So, what is wrong with this place? Nothing. And that is the problem: it has no character, no personality, no charm, it is all Instagram perfect, there is nothing exceptional, it is sterile. Critically, it has no narrative, or the narrative is boring. Everything was good but not remarkable. If I never go back, I will not miss it, I will not miss the food, the people, nothing. It seems to me that nowadays everything is designed to perfection, consultants develop the perfect menu, accountants establish the perfect everything to maximize revenues, everything is so impeccable that it is boring.

When I get the chance to go out, I will always choose a place that has something, usually a combination of extraordinary (not expensive) food, character, personality, history, sense of humor, great staff, or an indescribable factor that makes you want to come back again and again. Hive is not that place.

Film news (revisiting Iñárritu and Tarantino, and discovering Penn)

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PC: The Top 100 Project

PC: The Top 100 Project

After many years of not watching any films, I am slowly catching up on my film viewing. This Christmas break was particularly fruitful in that respect.

When I thought of writing about my recent film experiences, I realized I have actually used this blog for a total of seven posts about the seventh art (my readers love my humor). Antonioyrocinante started in 2011 but my first film post is not until 2015 (which proves my film viewing drought). If you are so inclined, you are welcome to look up my posts on:

The Man Who Killed Don Quixote by brilliant ex-Monty Python Terry Gilliam

Almodovar

Wes Anderson’s Castello Cavalcanti (technically an ad for Prada)

Jojo Rabbit, a satire on Nazis

Torrente, el brazo tonto de la ley

Casablanca

Wes (Anderson) and Woody (Allen)

My recent “discoveries” have been from some of my favorite auteurs and a new one!

I have been a fan of Alejandro Iñárritu since his 2000 Amores Perros and have not missed any of his films: 21 Grams, Babel, Rudo y Cursi, Biutiful, Birdman and The Revenant.

On the Tarantino front I am lagging a bit, not having seen his last two works The Hateful Eight (2015) and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019). I did, however, recently view Inglourious Basterds and loved it! What I enjoy about Tarantino is the almost comic book graphic aspect. While Almodovar plays with color to imbue his films with texture and depth, Tarantino uses them to contrast the scene, which tend to be very dramatically framed – like they would be in a comic book. Other films like The 300, Sin City or some of the super hero genre use this comic book approach, but in these cases it is very much a literal use of comic book visuals.

From a narrative perspective Iñárritu tends to use overlapping and intersecting stories, whereas Tarantino bets for a more twisty turny story. Either way, the viewer is in for a roller coaster ride!

One key element all of these directors share – and I did mention it before on my Woody Allen post- is their abilities to squeeze the maximum out of their actors. For example: Tarantino with DiCaprio or Brad Pitt in Django Unchained and Inglourious Basterds, and Iñárritu with Michael Keaton or Javier Bardem in Birdman and Biutiful.

My recent discovery (although the movie dates back to 2007, sorry) has been Sean Penn as a director. It is not unusual for intelligent, restless actors to get behind the camera, and Penn is no exception. Into the Wild is a straightforward enough story with a proper beginning, middle and ending, but Penn does a great job of telling that story, creating suspense and emotion. Although I have not read Jon Krakauer’s book, Penn does a fine job of telling this story.

Wes and Woody

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I’m waiting for my Thesis Director to go over my most recent dissertation scribbles, so I take a rare break from writing my dissertation… to write my blog!

Back in the short period between my prospectus (see previous posts) and starting my dissertation, before Christmas, I actually had time to watch a few of films, and I loved them both.

Wes Anderson has been one of my favorites since his Rushmore (1998). I love how he weaves a narrative with all these eccentric, maybe a little bit broken, chipped characters. His latest is The Grand Budapest Hotel, about the concierge (Ralph Fiennes) in an old school grand hotel somewhere in Mitteleuropa. The humor is woven into the narrative, sometimes with a big old slapstick brush, sometimes with a nuanced, detailed, subtle touch, and of course the whole spectrum in between. I have been known – back in the day, to have gotten kicked out of movie theaters for laughing when nobody else laughed, because I caught some tiny wink of humor. Wes Anderson keeps doing that for me time and again. Although nowadays I fortunately do not get kicked out of theaters.

When we were kids I remember spending summers at a place like that, the Gran Hotel Camp de Mar (which is now a gaudy monstrosity). Talk about old school. I even remember when one of the guests died and it was all hush-hush, but not really. So it really struck a chord with me, remembering the grand old dining room, the old furniture, everything.

Within the arc that is the narrative of the story, every detail of every scene is perfect. Every character, every costume, every prop, every line, you name it, it is perfect. Which of course contrasts beautifully with the eccentric, maybe a little bit broken, chipped characters.

Wes Anderson is, of course, building on the shoulders of giants, particularly those of Woody Allen. I did get all caught up on his three latest movies (that is how behind I was on my movie watching): Midnight in Paris (2011), From Rome with Love (2012), and Blue Jasmine (2013).

Cate Blanchett (who was also brilliant in Anderson’s The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, 2004) nails her Jasmine. The film really got me thinking about how we delude ourselves, and how we see people around us that fool themselves to amazing depths and do not want to acknowledge it. From Rome with Love was fun, and I was happy to see Allen reprise Penelope Cruz in this film. But it was Midnight in Paris that I enjoyed the most. The magic of 1920s Paris in the 21st Century, Owen Wilson, who is also in the Grand Hotel Budapest (Adrien Brody is also in both). Maybe it is because I lived in Paris for a summer and inevitably fell in love with the city, maybe because it has one of Woody Allen’s best narratives in a while. Whatever, it was magic.