The Secret Life of Optimists

Okay, show of hands: how many people here have seen The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013)? I have several friends who hate it, several who adore it, and several who look at me with confused but polite expressions on their faces when I ask if they've seen it.

On a basic level, Walter Mitty is a film about a hard-core day-dreamer in love with a girl at work he's never spoken to, who finds himself saddled with discovering the baffling whereabouts of a vital photograph ("Quintessence") missing from his workplace. We all like to pull for the underdog, especially one with a heart and imagination as endearing as Walter's. But at its core, the film is a celebration of imagination, optimism, friendship, art, adventure...all the things that make up the delightful parts of life.Walter Mitty works at Life Magazine and the company's motto will always inspire me:

"To see the world,
Things dangerous to come to,
To see behind walls,
Draw closer,
To find each other,
And to feel.
That is the purpose of life."

 I suppose the reason I love The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (apart from the stunning and artistic way the film was shot) is because it is a story about a person like me. A person with an imagination that colors his world brighter than usual. A person who has more than once spaced out in a conversation, totally enveloped in What Could Happen. A person who sees possibility everywhere, in everyone. A person who has within his mind, a million outcomes of a million situations and is poised just so, waiting to see which will really come to pass and where it might take him.

This first week of 2015 has been amazing. I am not exactly sure why except that I have lived every day with this glorious sensation of Just Around the River Bend practically sparking out of me. 2015 is, so far, an open year. I don't have many plans. Those I do have are just sketches, waiting to be filled with color by the adventures God lets me stumble across. Exciting things are lurking in the corners. I just know it. I don't have a reason for knowing it, but somehow I do. Seriously, put away your raised eyebrows. There are no secrets here. Just a flush on my cheeks and my heart beating a little smidgen faster than usual because something is coming. The unknown is all around me and there's something in the wind that makes me so terribly excited for this year. And yet, I feel a little like Jane and Michael Banks after Bert has done his rigmarole of: "You think...you...wink, you do a double-blink, you close your eyes and...."

Jane cocks her head, looks at Bert and says:

 "Is something s'posed to happen?"

That's how I feel right now. Is something s'posed to happen? Will it? I have my eye on several situations in friends' lives that could bloom into straight-up, real time fairy-tales or epic-saga adventures. I'm waiting for the next part of the story, conscious that any moment could catapult them (and me, vicariously) into a crazy, practically unheard-of new world. In my own life, things move along as usual. I spend my days doing life in technicolor. The people at the grocery-store are not just people. I mean, they are just people but not just people. I believe in the rich old truth that my life is a story and each component is part of that tale. Therefore, the man behind me in line at the grocery store could turn out to be important. The lady who cuts in front of me in traffic. The bank teller I saw twice in one day. The man in the window of the National Press Club Building. The woman whose package I rescued off the metro who I finally got back in contact with. My brain goes wild with the possibilities. When those people don't give me something memorable, I remedy the situation by doing something creative for them to remember. If I can't meet That Person, I'll be That Person. Call it what you will (fate, destiny, a horse), there's never a dull moment in this brain. I know bad stuff happens in life, but I know good stuff happens too, and it's the good stuff, the grace-moments in life that I wait for. They're there. They're everywhere. Some people just don't look for them or notice.

But living this secret life of brilliant hues has a flip-side: when life does turn out to be normal and the threads running across it seem to be weaving an average graham-colored bit of the tapestry, the heart-racing, flush-cheeked, eyes-sparkling existence begins to feel like a pacing tiger in a cage. I'm ready for the adventure. Where is it? I'm keeping a weather eye out for the next interesting person, the next impossibly beautiful moonrise, the next rose-red leaf silvered with frost, the next place to send an anonymous letter, the next way to secretly give a quiet blessing. It's an odd sort of discontentment, waiting for the peacock blues and currant reds and new-wheat greens in the tapestry of life to cover the graham-colors. When they don't come on their own, I make them myself, content in mixing dyes from the bits of everyday magic around me. I'm content with waiting, with letting wild hopes fly through my fingers each day, for there are always more hopes to be spent tomorrow. It's a luxury that optimists like myself can easily spare. But I will admit that our outlook can be exhausting,  for we spend hope at an extravagant rate and if it's a harsh master who would call it wasteful, our output is certainly tiring. I discussed this topic briefly with a friend this evening:

"Did you know it is slightly exhausting being an imaginative optimist? I mean, what's more tiring and frustrating: waiting for nothing to happen or waiting for anything to happen? In the first case you at least are fairly ready to stay where you are all your life. In the latter, you have the most delicious sense of 'any day now.'"

...or "any person now," or "any moment now," or "any page now," or "any conversation now," or "any query now." I don't believe the hope is poorly spent. I would always far rather be the optimist waiting with shining eyes and a laugh caught in her throat because anything could happen, than the pessimist who pulls on his tan trench-coat and trudges to work through snow whose beauty he can't even see because he can think of nothing but what a mess it'll make of the roads. I would always rather be That Person than a thousand Anyone Elses. I would always rather be a half-short, past-plump girl who makes generous messes in the kitchen than the tall, slender model who can't allow herself a slice of sourdough toast. I would always rather be the girl sleepy-eyed and smiling from an overdose of well-marked books than the frowning, tired-eyed girl who gave up reading because her schedule didn't allow it. I'd always rather wake up believing with my whole heart that impossible things can happen than going to bed each night satisfied that nothing did.

So let the tiger pace; it's striped and tawny and beautiful. Let people pass me by; they'll remember I smiled their direction. Let real photographers buy cameras; I just ask a small, friendly moment to capture the fragile beauties with my (now contentedly outdated) iPhone. Let real artists paint masterpieces; I just want my little, dusty watercolors and a brush not losing too many bristles.

Welcome to The Secret Life of Optimists, in Technicolor, 2015.

Pretty Mail

If you were anything like me as a kid, you would have had at least ten pen-pals over the years and lost just about as many through neglect, forgetting to send the letters your wrote, or just getting bored of the duty of writing back. As we learned to use the computer and the internet got more advanced and we learned how to type, writing letters dropped away almost completely. But you know me. I'm stubborn as anything and won't entirely let go of things I love. And I dearly love giving and receiving snail-mail. I have this passion for outwitting the post office. Doesn't that sound terrible? But seriously. I just weigh packages in my hand, slap stamps on, and stuff them in the mailbox. They always get to their destinations. Recently, I sent a copy of my book to a friend in Romania. I put five or six stamps on it, shoved it in the mail, and a week and a half later, it was in her hands. Now, if I'd gone into the post office and asked them what they wanted to charge me, that package would have cost something terribly like fifteen bucks.

All post-office regulations aside, sending and receiving mail the good old way will never go out of style. Who doesn't like getting a piece of mail? And furthermore, who doesn't like getting a piece of mail that is as much a delight to look at as it will be to read? Since I have three or four letters to respond to this weekend, I spent a little while on Pinterest last night browsing unique ways to address letters. Here are some of my favorites. May they serve as inspiration to you to send a surprise someone's way. <3

The Scarlet Pimpernel: My Dream Cast

Oh my dears. Oh my deary-dears. You all know (or ought to know, or can imagine) that I love The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy. Recently I converted a friend onto the First-Timers campaign and experienced all the honest pride of a mother exhibiting her favorite child. I can't imagine how it would feel to have written such a book! There was a film made in 1984 starring Anthony Andrews and Jane Seymour which I really do love, but I haven't seen the newest version. That being said, I have been putting my wits to the question for a long time of what my TSP Dream-Cast would look like, and here is what I have:

Sir Percival Blakeney:

Benedict Cumberbatch

He could so swing this part. Perhaps a little small-framed, but nothing worse than Anthony Andrews. He could nail the foppishness as well as the intensity, and I cannot think of a better person for this part. Seriously.

Chauvelin:

Andy Serkis

(sans crop of crazy-curly hair)

Small, intense, scheming, and evil to the core, Andy Serkis would OWN this role. 

Marguerite Blakeney:

Romola Garai

Romola. Beautiful, beautiful Romola. Ever since I saw her in her stunning role in Amazing Grace, I have pictured Marguerite Blakeney thus. Don't think Emma Woodhouse, think Barbara Spooner. I think she could carry the gravity, the heart-break concealed under the wit and mockery. She could do this if given the chance.

Armand St. Just:

Rupert Evans

Because Armand's largest fault is his bull-headed, blind passion for a stupid dancer, I think Frank Churchill (aka Rupert Evans) would do the part justice. I like his acting. I like him. And seeing Rupert and Romola in another movie together as brother and sister would be pretty great.

Lord Anthony Dewhurst (Lord Tony):

Dan Stevens

I know he's done with Downton Abbey, so whaddya think: would Dan like a nice side-gig as leaning-post for Benedict Cumberbatch as Percy? I think he'd be perfect for the role. He's just such a nice, solid Brit. You know. He couldn't be mistaken for coming from any other country. He's just....wholesome looking. Perfect for jolly, bluff Lord Tony.

Sir Andrew Ffoulkes:

Tom Hiddleston

He needs a happy-go-lucky-yet-important role, doesn't he? Because from all I've heard, Tom Hiddleston is a pretty sweet guy, and he never gets to play happy roles. He would be really great as an essentially-English man. Truly.

Suzanne DeTourney:

Rosamund Pike

Because she's gorgeous, a fabulous actress, and looks a mite French.

Other Characters:

Robespierre:

Rufus Sewell

Ew. Yeah. He'd do the job. He always looks French to me no matter what, and I think he has cold, fishy eyes. Plus he's a good actor, and has played in a period drama set right about the same time (Amazing Grace again, anyone?) but I chose him for this role because his coloring is right for Robespierre in my opinion. Seriously. He always looks kind of half-crazed. Exactly the sort of guy who could aptly play a character like Robbie. ;)

The Prince of Wales:

Tom Hollander

Because he's little and dweeby but harmless.  And the PoW needs to be little and dweeby and harmless. :)

This late at night my mind forgets what other side-characters there are on the French side, but I will state that Ciarin Hinds needs to make an appearance as a Frenchie. He just looks French. I'm just sayin'. And if I could stick Ioan Gruffud in there somewhere as another Frenchie, it'd make my day and the day of several of my friends. 

So this, my friends, is my Dream-Cast List for a remake of The Scarlet Pimpernel. I tried to be true to what I recall from the book about the various characters. (i.e. Marguerite is clearly stated to have reddish-gold hair. NOT BLACK!) All the actors I have listed are well-known BBC (or closely-related to BBC) actors, and I think would work really well in a film together. All of them have done period-drama work in their careers, and some of them are actively "Period-Drama-Actors". :) I think it's rather perfect.

 So. Who wants to bring this awesome list to the attention of the BBC? We really should. Because I would pay my life's savings to see a film with a stellar cast like this. :)

Edible Mr. Darcy? Okay....

Though it has been a long while since I've posted an update about my English Lit. class, it hasn't been so long that you've forgotten about it. (I hope) For those of you who are new aboard ship, I teach an English Literature class for two of my younger sisters who are in the late middle school-early highschool age range. We've been going through Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, but I admit to having grown lax in the last several months in my teaching. Yesterday, however, I sat down and planned out a couple of lessons.

I felt it was a befitting way to spend the 200th anniversary of Pride and Prejudice! :) I have been wanting the girls to get through the book a bit quicker than we've done yet. We were reading aloud to each other two chapters each session, and managed a session or two a week. At any rate, we were only at Chapter 20 out of 40-some, so I needed us to pick up the pace. I will assign them 4 chapters a session to have read and take notes on in the off-days, and then we'll come together to do a couple activities, discuss key points, ideas, shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings. 

But to ease the girls into this new regime and to celebrate the bicentennial of such a fabulous book, I decided we'd make Pride and Prejudice cookies...I looked on Pinterest in a lazy moment and saw all sorts of beautiful Jane Austen cookies, but none took my fancy. Okay. So I'd have to be creative on my own. Converting my mad hypothetical-cake-decorating skills (learned from watching too much Cake Boss) into cookie skills, I put together a plan...I made a batch of sugar cookies and cut some into squares, then made a furling banner type thingamabobber out of paper and cut around it with a knife. The cookies were baked, and when they were cool I made a Royal Icing paste. Literally nothing but powdered sugar, egg whites, and water. I iced them carefully and left the icing to harden overnight.

The bigger scheme? Paint favorite quotes from P&P onto the icing with concentrated food coloring. Would it work? I hoped so. 

The girls were monstrously curious over what on earth these rather drab-looking cookies were for. As you can see from my white-board lesson plan, the first activity was for the girls to choose a character from the book and write a congratulatory letter to Jane Austen in that character's "voice". While they did that, I tested my Theory of Decorating...

Nailed it.

I was so thrilled.

The girls were none the wiser yet, and worked away at their card-making:

They nailed it too. :)

Finally I got to show the girls what our next assignment was, and food-dye ink reigned for the next half-hour as we all bent over our cookies and used teeny paintbrushes to endow them with clever sentiments from the novel itself.

We took some license and included a movie quote or two...

I had so much fun making these, and realized that this technique is now for sure going into my Awesomeness Arsenal, to bring out on special occasions like weddings and graduations. Seriously, these would be adorable as wedding favors!

Mine above, Leah's below.

The picture is a little blurry, but it says, "I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in a pretty woman can bestow..." ;)

Aren't they just darling? First day back at class was a smash. :) Thank you, Jesus!