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Last night, we saw Life of Pi, an Ang Lee film based on Yann Martel's prize winning novel by the same title. The movie is a bold and wondrous visual 3D creation that immerses you in the survival story of Pi, who is cast away at sea after a tragic ship wreck takes the lives of his family. Pi does have four surviving zoo animals on board the life boat for company including a feline friend, a hungry Bengal Tiger name Richard Parker. The screenplay follows closely to the book. Thanks to Lee's master of literacy adaptations and attention to details, the supposedly unfilmable book was not lost in translation to the big screen. The themes of religion and faith flows beautifully through the story but in a rather subtle manner. There are occasional clunks in the story telling but the acting is superb and the sumptuous, naturalistic beauty on display is a real viewing pleasure.
So part of my New Years resolution is to get back to blogging. It was a unintended break. I simply let too much time slip by which is how I entered the blogging black hole. Trying to get back into the rhythm of things has not been easy. My blogging habits have changed over the years. I used to document the little bits and pieces of my life as a way to reflect. But the once feverish urge to write has become less frequent. I blame Facebook. Another change is the slow and systematic process of me finding stability and happiness in my life. There was a time when I sought solace in the written word but this new found serenity has left me with little rage. It is easier to write about pain, heart break and anger than it is to write about happiness. Just think about those famous ballads - all of them are sad songs. The transition was not easy but I learned to cope and I was able to sort out my feelings as well as deal with some glaring flaws within myself. I concentrated on upping my happy hormones (Serotonin & melatonin) as it turned out I lacked the later. This was why I was a insomniac. It was part of the reason why my mental health was deteriorating so rapidly. It didn't help that the anger bottled up had no release. It was something I and my family ignored for a long time even though the surface signs were there as a child. Personality disorders are not so easy to diagnose. My mother on the other hand suffered from bouts of severe depression and was clinically diagnose with PTSD. She rarely spoke about her struggles although we lived with it day to day. Writing helped me confront whatever demons I was battling. It was my sanity saver and now that I am saved, what do I write about?
