Tuesday, December 10, 2019

Creating content isn't easy. Especially if you're trying to do it on a daily basis. And I get that it can be discouraging to post something and get zero tips or even any views. But I've decided I'm not going to let that discourage me. It's about putting in the work, and if my effort isn't good enough, so be it. I'll keep posting anyway.

So over the weekend the wife and I watched Marriage Story on Netflix. It was written and directed by Noah Baumbach and stars Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson as a young married couple with an eight-year old son. Baumbach, Driver, and Johansson have now all been nominated for a Golden Globe award in connection with this film, and in my humble opinion, the recognition is deserved. Check it out if you're in the mood for a movie for adults. I will say that for the most part, the drama feels real, and the intensity of the moments feel earned. I give it an 8 out of 10.

Side note: Marriage isn't easy, especially if you have children, and I've certainly felt some of the same things Adam Driver's character expresses in the film from time to time. But I know that I'm lucky to be married to my wife, even if she isn't perfect, because I'm even more imperfect than she is.

Side note 2: Since we're on the subject of marriage, this is a passage from Book 2 of Karl Ove Knausgaard's "My Struggle" series. I remember when I first read it, I couldn't help but laugh because I could so relate to what he describes. Some might think it's kind of sad, but I think it's hilarious. It's a favorite passage of mine so I thought I'd share it here:

Everything was as it had been, yet it wasn't, for imperceptibly, so imperceptibly that it seemed as if it wasn't happening, something in our lives lost its luster. The fire that drove us towards each other and into the world no longer burned as bright. Moods could spring up, one Saturday I awoke thinking how nice it would be to have some time for myself, visit some secondhand bookshops, go to a cafe and read the papers ... We got up, went to the nearest cafe, ordered breakfast, that is, porridge, yogurt, toast, eggs, juice and coffee, I read the papers, Linda stared down at the table or into the room, said at length, do you have to read, couldn't we talk? Yes, of course, I said, closing the newspaper, and we chatted, it was fine, the tiny black spot in my heart was barely noticeable, a little hankering to be alone and read in peace without anyone demanding anything of me was forgotten in a flash. But then came the time when it wasn't, when on the contrary it led to ensuing moods and actions. If you really love me, you have to come to me without demands, I thought, but didn't say, I wanted her to notice on her own.