Author: Thao

If yesterday and today were photos, they would be a spot-the-difference puzzle. You know, two photos or images that are the same save for minor differences.

As a kid I enjoyed these puzzles, particularly on cereal boxes or the Happy Meal boxes from McDonald’s. These days life during this pandemic is puzzling enough.

The Triple Elvis by Andy Warhol above is at San Francisco MOMA. I had a look at it live last August:

À propos Andy Warhol, check out the film I Shot Andy Warhol, if nothing else to watch Jared Harris as Andy Warhol. Then watch Jared Harris in Mad Men or The Crown, two of the few TV series I have actually loved and binged.

If you’re like me and non-committal about TV series, then definitely check out the excellent mini-series Chernobyl, which Jared Harris is the lead in and great too.

Or maybe just listen to Dinah Washington croon What a Diff’rence a Day Makes, which I thought was put to good use at the end of Tom Tykwer’s Lola rennt / Run Lola Run. Remember that one? The worldwide hit that put German films back on the map in 1998, ending the dry spell on mainstream German films after Das Boot.

Today was a good day. I was up at 6:00 a.m., got through my routine of yoga and meditation, practiced piano, did my writing, got some work done, called up a friend, and got a healthy dose of sun by 6:00 p.m.

My general disposition about the state of the world was even-keeled. And only now, as I was thinking about what to write for this entry, did it occur to me that we were supposed to be in Zermatt today.

Since we’re here today and not skiing the glorious mountain landscape around the Matterhorn and enjoying the good life that is Zermatt Unplugged, here’s a recap of last year’s trip to Zermatt:

https://youtu.be/6BdV-IQnhLI

Music: The Strokes Hard to Explain

Easter Monday is neither a federal holiday nor is it observed here, so it was another week’s begin in that Martin was back at his desk WFH.

It has now been four weeks of shelter in place. How much longer will this go on, does anyone know? While I will check websites of some newspapers here and in Switzerland, I have stopped reading the news and no longer follow it much during the day as I did in the previous weeks.

The weather was especially warm and inviting today, so I was out back indulging in sunshine. Later in the afternoon we went for a bike ride. It was the first time I have been on a proper bike ride since last summer.

We biked to and across the Bay Bridge to the lookout point on Yerba Buena Island between Oakland and San Francisco. It was a roundtrip of 15.5 miles/25 km and took us about 90 minutes to complete.

Martin would have been faster on his own, since he normally rides his bike up the hill to work and is more in shape cycling than I am. But it was good having him lead the way as it kept me pedaling as hard as I could to keep up and riding on.

It felt great to be on my bike again. I had forgotten how much riding my bike was a part of my daily life in Zurich as it was our main mode of transport. It is a quality of life factor that is foreign to the car culture of America.

I can hardly write about bicycles during tough times without thinking of one of my favorite films, Vittorio De Sica’s Ladri di biciclette / Bicycle Thieves. It’s a classic of Italian neorealist (Golden Age) and one of the greatest films of all time.

Along the same line of a stolen bicycle, Xích Lô / Cyclo by Tran Anh Hung, Vietnamese-French filmmaker, is one of the most beautiful Vietnamese films I know of. As an art film it requires a certain attention. And like me on my bike today, keep riding on to reach the reward.

In addition to family gatherings and celebration, Easter has been a significant time of personal change for us, especially in recent years.

Following Easter celebrations with family two years ago, we left Switzerland and made our way across America, driving through 14 states in 33 days from Florida to California. Exactly a year later in 2019, we flew from California to Switzerland and celebrated Easter just before returning here.

On Good Friday today we would have been on our way to Zurich and back in Switzerland once again at Easter. Instead we will be here. But I will not think anymore about where we would have been rather where we would like to be moving forward.

Easter this year will be a chance to reflect on this time and experience as an awakening, to reimagine the possibilities not despite or within the confines of this collective situation but precisely because of and through it.

True to the season of spring and spirit of Easter, I would like to embrace resurrection, rebirth, and renewal. Best wishes for a rejuvenating and happy Easter. Enjoy, and I look forward to restarting with you here.

A calendar notification reminded me today that our flight to Zurich is tomorrow. I had not bothered to update my calendar, which is full of dates and events for our visit to Switzerland during the next two weeks. Normally I would be packing meticulously late into the night before our flight. But these are not normal times.

The extent to which my life and plans are disrupted by this pandemic may seem inconsequential considering the global disruption. Nevertheless, not being able to go to Switzerland tomorrow as we had planned and were so much looking forward to leaves me wehmütig, something between wistful and sad or both.

I have been sulking about it and will probably sulk some more in the coming days and weeks, possibly until we get to go to Switzerland again. The thought of how long this stifling state of confinement will last is distressing. At least the one advantage of all this social distancing and shelter in place is that nobody has to hear me lament, except Martin.

Luckily as much as I wallow in self-pity, even I get bored with it quick. I should probably delete all the plans and events I had thoroughly entered into our calendars with alerts to remind us when we were to be where; celebrating Easter with Martin’s parents in Appenzell, celebrating with friends in Zurich, skiing the majestic panoramic landscape surrounding the Matterhorn during the day and enjoying the good life at Zermatt Unplugged in the evenings, etc.

But then again why bother with the tedium of updating calendars. 2020 is already marked in history.

Instead I’ll get lost again and finally finish Der Zauberberg, or The Magic Mountain, Thomas Mann’s seminal work of literature about Hans Castorp, a young engineer who goes to visit his sick cousin at a luxurious sanatorium in the Swiss Alps for three weeks and ends up staying seven years.

The story is about Hans Castorp’s journey in which life revolves around a daily routine of extravagance, leisure, rest, and philosophical discussions on the meaning of life and death, all within the backdrop of spellbinding alpine landscape around the confines of the bubble that is the sanatorium.

It is a monumental examination of and reflection on society and the sources of destruction thereof. Does this sound eerily familiar? Then read on. It is one of those books for being “stranded on a deserted island” with. And in a way, we are all right now.

If the 900-something pages are daunting and you prefer more Magic than the weight of the Mountain, then definitely watch Paolo Sorrentino’s Youth with Michael Caine and Harvey Keitel, who are delightful as old friends on holiday in the Swiss alps.

A beautiful film of stunning landscape and scenery and just as stunning-looking people. And music, glorious music. We need more of that now too. It is a rumination on friendship, the past, the future, life and, yes, death too.

Incidentally it was filmed at the Schatzalp that was made iconic through The Magic Mountain, which found many readers who made pilgrimages, myself included although mine was a mere weekend’s stay just as intended.

Happy Passover to all who observe and celebrate. We have had the privilege of sharing in Passover Seders that were festive and illuminating. It is a holiday I am fond of and interested in for its ancient biblical origin.

Without knowing it, I was introduced to and developed my own personal connection to the Passover story early on through the 1956 film The Ten Commandments.

When I was growing up the film would be shown on television around Easter every year. And without fail I watched it every year, commercials and all, totally captivated by Charlton Heston and the epic scope of the story and film.

For a long time it was one of the reasons I wanted to make movies. If I ever do, then it still will be. The scene of Moses parting the Red Sea blew my 10-year old mind away.

When you experience that kind of magic, it never leaves you. It is a force that compels you to seek and conjure it. At least this is the case for me.

While I’m still trying to figure out how to make magic and all the rest of it, I also have pursuits that may appear random and unlikely. But in an unprecedented time as this, I find that having wide and varied interests and ambitions are both very useful and comforting.

Two years ago I decided I wanted to read the Bible from cover to cover. I wasn’t about to tackle such a tome without a plan, so I made a spreadsheet and used it to track my progress:

I had set aside a block of time, usually 5 or 6 in the morning, dedicated to reading a chapter. Sometimes I read more, sometimes less. Looking at the unfinished plan, I know exactly why I have yet to complete the task of reading the whole Bible.

After finishing Esther on March 1, 2018, we went to Rome for the weekend on March 2. After that it was non-stop packing up our lives in Switzerland, uprooting ourselves and moving here. The plan fell by wayside as we took on a larger journey.

Two years later, in the midst of a pandemic, it’s been almost a month since we are all confined to our homes. And it doesn’t look like we’ll be going anywhere anytime soon. Perhaps now is the time to get back to my plan and do something magical.

I went outside earlier tonight, because the trash needed to be taken out. Stepping out the front door to stand at the top of the walkway, it felt like stepping onto a stage and into the spotlight of the supermoon. It’s been a while since I’ve been outside at night and even longer since I’ve taken notice of the moon.

What a mysterious celestial body, and one that is rather taken for granted come to think of it. After the past few days of cloudy weather and rain, I was happy this morning to be greeted by sunlight flooding the living room. But do I ever think about the waning and waxing crescent phases of the moon? I can’t say I do. Although every now and then I am captivated by a full moon.

I am reminded of a strong curiosity for astronomy and the sciences in general as a child and teenager. I was particularly drawn to early 20th century physicists and chemists, my hero being Marie Curie. While it may seem obvious now, I think I was as enamored of her person and life story as I am of her astonishing scientific achievements.

In the many biographies, including the magnum opus by her daughter Ève Curie, of Marie Curie and other scientists of that time that I devoured, a common photo often appeared in the various books. It is of the 5th Solvay Conference in which some of the greatest scientists ever, practically all Nobel Prize winners, are photographed together. Looking at this photo now, it still moves me. Maybe even more so now.

I was completely captivated by Madame Curie and her incredible story and person, truly singular and inspiring. But this photo from 1927 in which she was the only woman in a crowd of men, next to Einstein no less, propelled me by giving wing to great imagination, freedom and the idea that I too could do whatever I want.

While I did not pursue the sciences nor will I be a Nobel Prize recipient, I would say that so far I have been doing whatever I want. And on this note I say let’s take it a notch higher and Fly Me to the Moon, Come Fly with Me!

Going into week four I am in a rather irritable mood at the moment. I try to focus on being productive and getting things done. But today, even as I’m going through the motions, my head is mostly in the clouds.

It’s all a little mind-boggling right now. I am not finding words to articulate. Maybe you feel the same way too? What does everyone do to decompress?

I didn’t quite unwind this weekend, but I did catch up on some movies, two of which were pretty big in 2019 when this pandemic would have been considered more science fiction than reality bites.

Ford vs. Ferarri is a fun buddy movie with some good driving scenes. It’s entertaining and Matt Damon does a good job of offsetting Christian Bale’s overstated surliness.

Of course when it comes to serious killer driving action, quite literally, then Nicolas Winding Refn’s Drive is a masterpiece and a must.

We also finally saw Portrait of a Lady on Fire, which I totally lagged on watching but am blown away by its artistry and sophistication. It really is an exquisite film and a gem. And just like that, I feel better again for having seen it.

I went out to pick up some groceries this afternoon, and I can’t remember being shaken by such a banal task. I had not been outside our neighborhood on College Avenue, a normally bustling main street with great restaurants, coffee and boutique shops as well as a Safeway and other essential services all within a colorful block, this whole week.

College Avenue is usually congested with cars, buses, bicyclists, pedestrians, passerbys, shoppers, panhandlers, homeless, people of all age, colors and creed. When I turned the corner today, though, I was struck by the eerie quiet of closed shops, practically empty streets, and long line around the corner outside of Safeway across the street.

From the side where I was standing, I noticed that the French bakery where we usually get fresh baguette and morning buns is closed. It was just open a few days ago, so I’m perplexed as to why it’s closed now. Bread and pastries are essentials, I would think.

There was a line of 5-8 people about 6 ft/2 m outside the butcher shop, which also serves as a fishmonger with its offering of seafood. I picked up some halibut and bratwursts, then headed to the mom-and-pop grocery store a few doors over for milk and produce.

My sense is that people on the street, many of whom were wearing face masks, were somber and the air was tense. The atmosphere on this otherwise busy and spirited street was foreboding. I hurried home with an unsettling feeling and have been bothered by it since.

The first thing I did after I got into the kitchen, put the groceries down, and took off my shoes is washed my hands. Then I unpacked and disinfected packaging of items, washed produced, disinfected doorknobs, my phone and earplugs, the credit card I used, the doorknobs, laid the cloth bag in the sun, disinfected my jacket, and then finally washed my hands again.

This has been my cleaning and disinfecting routine once I return from grocery shopping. I have done it a handful of times in the past three weeks, and basically try to avoid having to go out beyond our backyard other than to jog.

Mostly I am cognizant that this is temporary and will pass. We’re all trying to do our part, and for the most part Martin and I feel fortunate about our situation and adhere best we can. Nevertheless, today’s brief encounter with the realities of this crisis and its repercussions, which we have yet to see the extent of, did rattle me some.

Unless absolutely necessary, I’m staying off the streets until this all blows over, which will hopefully be sooner than later. That’s me and you and the rest of the world, so at least we have that in common.

We also have the weekend. Since we’re staying off the streets, it’s a good place to check out other streets from the safety of home. If you’ve never seen it, then definitely watch Mean Streets. If you have, then it’s always a good time to revisit any of Martin Scorsese’s work. But Martin Scorsese and his films warrant its own blog, entire film courses, festivals, and screenings, etc.

Although it’s a cinematic masterpiece, it’s not exactly comforting. I’m just cautioning that it may be a bit much, especially if you’re like me right now and need warm and fuzzy and clarity, then maybe just listen to Vic Damone croon about being On the Street Where You Live.

I loved listening to this stuff growing up here in the Bay Area where I had the radio tuned in to KFRC “Magic 61” AM. They played top 40 hits from the 1950s and 1960s.

If the world in this strange state right now is just too much, then Sesame Street is one street that never disappoints, especially Cookie Monster. Ok, a monster that is all about cookies: This guy is straight talk, and in weird times it’s all the more gotta have. Cookies for sure, monster maybe not. Have some milk and cookies and a sweet weekend staying safe at home.

Earlier tonight I made lemon bars while Martin filed FBARs, which is Report of Foreign Bank and Financial Accounts. Like taxes, it’s tedious. And also like taxes, it’s one of those offputting things that tends to get put off.

Since Martin diligently took on the task of filing FBARs, I procrastibaked. But is it procrastibaking if I had to make use of lemons laying around, which I had already squeezed and refrigerated the juice for days now?

If you haven’t already filed your taxes or if you’re just looking for something worth procrastinating with that isn’t baking, then maybe watch The Help. (There is a bit of baking involved in the story that is anything but procrastibaking.) It’s a wonderful fantastic movie witih a kick-ass female ensemble that will have your spirits soaring. Promise.

Watch it to see Octavia Spencer, who won the Oscar for her role in it. She’s supererb. And her Oscar acceptance is worth a watch too (when Brad and Angelina were still together!). She’s also good in Ryan Coogler’s Fruitvale Station, which is literally on the other side of the tracks from where we live in Oakland. Both movies as well as filmmakers and actors were at Zurich Film Festival during my tenure, but I must have been putting out fires behind the scenes as I missed meeting them. Boo, right.

Not up for a movie? Then watch or listen to U2’s Lemon from Zooropa, one of my favorite U2 and 90’s albums. Coincidentally, I saw U2 here at Oakland coliseum when they were on tour in 1997. They came out of a gigantic disco ball shaped like a lemon. It was one the coolest things I’ve ever seen. Until tomorrow, stay cool while staying home!