52 Card Project 2022: Week 4: Crisálida
Jan. 26th, 2022 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrOkay, this one will be long. I re-did this card three times because it was so important to me, and I wanted to get it absolutely right.
I've remarked with some relief that this year I haven't descended into seasonal affective disorder as I often do in the winter. And yet this week has been extra challenging. It's been cold this week, and it's cold AF today (-11°F, -32°F wind chill), and I'm wearing fuzzy slipper socks and bundling up in my fluffy black hooded wrap that's a cross between a jacket and a blanket. I've been reluctant to go out.
Then, there's the pandemic. My employer has told us all not to come into the office. At all. At the start of the pandemic, before vaccination, I went into the office once a week (wearing a cloth mask) to print documents. Things feel different: Omicron is SO contagious and I know people who have been caught it even though they've been vaccinated and boosted and are ultra-careful. I'm wearing an N95 instead of a cloth mask. I'm isolating even more than I did then. My twice-weekly walks with a couple of friends have stopped, and although I started going to church during Advent, I've stopped again.
And there's an anniversary today, and I'm sad. I told my supervisor I would be taking the day as sick time as a mental health day. A grief day.
I'm cocooning.
I watched Encanto with my daughter Fiona, and this week I've downloaded the soundtrack by Lin Manuel Miranda and I'm obsessing. Yes, I've listened to "We Don't Talk About Bruno" loads of times. It's a hit that has taken everyone by surprise, but that wasn't the song that the Encanto production submitted to the Academy for consideration for the Oscar for Best Song. Instead, they submitted "Dos Oruguitas," a song that Lin Manuela Miranda said he composed with the hope that it would sound like a 100-year-old folk song. And it does. It absolutely hit right in the solar plexus of my feels, especially after I listened to the English translation. I will be adding it to my widow playlist on YouTube.
Because of course I identify with Alma's (Abuela's) story. She fell in love with a handsome, bearded man with kind eyes who adored their children, and she lost him too young.
Of course I do. Encanto is a widow's story.
The movie is filled with images of butterflies, a nod to Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez and his seminal work 100 Years of Solitude. Butterflies serve throughout the movie as a symbol for love, hope...and transformation (note that butterflies can be found on Abuela's magic candle, incorporated into the design of the house, and woven into the embroidery on Mirabel's dress). "Dos Oruguitas" compares Alma and Pedro to two caterpillars, whose love serves as each other's shelter. They long to stay together, but they live in a world that never stops changing.
Mirabel senses the problem as she frets because she hasn't been given a magical gift like the other members of the family. She sings in the second song of the soundtrack (the second song of a musical is always the classic "I want" song in the story):
We never see the inside of Abuela's magical bedroom, but the filmmakers have given us hints when the door is opened and we catch a glimpse inside of the floor. In fact, the filmmakers have said in interviewers that her bedroom looks exactly like the bedroom of the home she shared with Pedro. The more Abuela resists the inevitable change of passing time, the more she traps herself in her cocoon of grief and fear and longing for the past. She becomes increasingly cruel to her family, making the house crumble and the magic fade more and more, until the magical candle goes out entirely. It is not until this crisis, prompted partly by Mirabel's pushing, that Abuela finally realizes and regrets what she has done.
Watch the video. It's only five minutes long. I'll wait:
Here are the lyrics in English:
But I have to be willing to change. I have to be willing to emerge from my own cocoon. In "Waiting for a Miracle," Mirabel compares the gifted members of her family to shining stars. In the last song, "All of You," keeping with the theme of change, Mirabel sings:
What does that mean for me?
I'm still trying to figure that out.
All three iterations of the card included Alma and Pedro's last kiss. The first draft of the card included an image of Abuela and Mirabel with the butterflies as the image at the bottom, but then I decided to make it more personal and included an image of myself wearing the black cocoon coat.
Then it occurred to me that I wanted to be holding Rob's candle. This is the candle that was lit for the first time at his memorial service. I have burned it since whenever I was particularly missing him, and now the candle is almost entirely gone, just like Abuela's candle. I was mulling in frustration yet again the problem of how I could take the picture of me holding the candle when it occurred to me for the first time that I could download an app that put the camera on timer. Duh. So you can actually see both my hands! Over that, I superimposed a butterfly's chrysalis. The name of the card is the word "chrysalis" in Spanish. The background is the storm of butterflies.
Here's the card:
Crisálida
Click here to see the 2022 52 Card Project gallery.
Click here to see the 2021 gallery.
Edited to add: Wow, right after I posted this, I checked Facebook, and this came up in my memories from four years ago:
I've remarked with some relief that this year I haven't descended into seasonal affective disorder as I often do in the winter. And yet this week has been extra challenging. It's been cold this week, and it's cold AF today (-11°F, -32°F wind chill), and I'm wearing fuzzy slipper socks and bundling up in my fluffy black hooded wrap that's a cross between a jacket and a blanket. I've been reluctant to go out.
Then, there's the pandemic. My employer has told us all not to come into the office. At all. At the start of the pandemic, before vaccination, I went into the office once a week (wearing a cloth mask) to print documents. Things feel different: Omicron is SO contagious and I know people who have been caught it even though they've been vaccinated and boosted and are ultra-careful. I'm wearing an N95 instead of a cloth mask. I'm isolating even more than I did then. My twice-weekly walks with a couple of friends have stopped, and although I started going to church during Advent, I've stopped again.
And there's an anniversary today, and I'm sad. I told my supervisor I would be taking the day as sick time as a mental health day. A grief day.
I'm cocooning.
I watched Encanto with my daughter Fiona, and this week I've downloaded the soundtrack by Lin Manuel Miranda and I'm obsessing. Yes, I've listened to "We Don't Talk About Bruno" loads of times. It's a hit that has taken everyone by surprise, but that wasn't the song that the Encanto production submitted to the Academy for consideration for the Oscar for Best Song. Instead, they submitted "Dos Oruguitas," a song that Lin Manuela Miranda said he composed with the hope that it would sound like a 100-year-old folk song. And it does. It absolutely hit right in the solar plexus of my feels, especially after I listened to the English translation. I will be adding it to my widow playlist on YouTube.
Because of course I identify with Alma's (Abuela's) story. She fell in love with a handsome, bearded man with kind eyes who adored their children, and she lost him too young.
Of course I do. Encanto is a widow's story.
The movie is filled with images of butterflies, a nod to Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez and his seminal work 100 Years of Solitude. Butterflies serve throughout the movie as a symbol for love, hope...and transformation (note that butterflies can be found on Abuela's magic candle, incorporated into the design of the house, and woven into the embroidery on Mirabel's dress). "Dos Oruguitas" compares Alma and Pedro to two caterpillars, whose love serves as each other's shelter. They long to stay together, but they live in a world that never stops changing.
Ay, oruguitas, don't you hold on too tightThe magic (centered in a candle) that rescued Abuela's family after Pedro was killed kept them safe in a sheltering, impassable valley and beautiful home and gave them magical gifts that allowed them to thrive. But Abuela wanted to stay in that safety and never let anything change. She turned that valley, that home, into a cocoon.
Both of you know it's your time to grow, to fall apart, to reunite
Wonders await you, just on the other side
Trust they'll be there and start to prepare the way for tomorrow
Mirabel senses the problem as she frets because she hasn't been given a magical gift like the other members of the family. She sings in the second song of the soundtrack (the second song of a musical is always the classic "I want" song in the story):
All I need is a changeBruno, Abuela’s son and Mirabel’s uncle, understood the problem, too. He knew, because his gift was the ability to see the future, that change was inevitable in life. Note the complaints that the townspeople made about his prophecies:
All I need is a chance
All I know is I can’t stay on the side
Open your eyes, open your eyes, open your eyes
"He told me that my fish would die and the next day dead! /The townspeople and the family are aghast at these prophecies, to the point that Bruno is driven from his home, but think about it: these are normal things that happen with the passage of time. As the song "Dos Oriquitos" reminds us, "The world will never stop changing." Bruno and Mirabel, who both see this, are linked together visually, too: Bruno's eyes turn green when he prophesies, just as Mirabel's eyeglasses are green.
He told me that I'd grow a gut, and just like he said /
He told me that my hair would disappear and look at my head!"
We never see the inside of Abuela's magical bedroom, but the filmmakers have given us hints when the door is opened and we catch a glimpse inside of the floor. In fact, the filmmakers have said in interviewers that her bedroom looks exactly like the bedroom of the home she shared with Pedro. The more Abuela resists the inevitable change of passing time, the more she traps herself in her cocoon of grief and fear and longing for the past. She becomes increasingly cruel to her family, making the house crumble and the magic fade more and more, until the magical candle goes out entirely. It is not until this crisis, prompted partly by Mirabel's pushing, that Abuela finally realizes and regrets what she has done.
Watch the video. It's only five minutes long. I'll wait:
Here are the lyrics in English:
[Verse 1]I kissed Rob goodbye for the last time four years ago exactly today. That devastated look on Alma's face at 1:56 on the video? That was the look on my face, four years ago today.
Two oruguitas [caterpillars] in love and yearning
Spend every evening and morning learnin'
To hold each other, their hunger burning
To navigate a world
That turns and never stops turning
Together in this world
That turns and never stops turning
[Verse 2]
Two oruguitas against the weather
The wind grows colder, but they're together
They hold each other, no way of knowing
They're all they have for shelter
And something inside them is growing
They long to stay togethеr
But something inside them is growin'
[Chorus]
Ay, oruguitas, don't you hold on too tight
Both of you know it's your timе to grow, to fall apart, to reunite
Wonders await you just on the other side
Trust they'll be there and start to prepare the way for tomorrow
Ay, oruguitas, don't you hold on too tight
Both of you know it's your time to grow, to fall apart, to reunite
Wonders await you, just on the other side
Trust they'll be there and start to prepare the way for tomorrow
[Bridge]
(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh)
[Verse 3]
Two oruguitas, cocooned and waiting
Each in their own world, anticipating
What happens after the rearranging?
And so afraid of change
In a world that never stops changing
So let the walls come down
The world will never stop changing (Never stop changing)
Never stop changing (Never stop changing)
[Chorus]
Ay, mariposas [butterflies], don't you hold on too tight
Both of you know it's your time to go, to fly apart, to reunite
Wonders surround you, just let the walls come down
Don't look behind you, fly 'til you find your way toward tomorrow
Ay, mariposas, don't you hold on too tight
Both of you know it's your time to go, to fly apart, to reunite
Wonders surround you, just let the walls come down
Don't look behind you, fly 'til you find your way toward tomorrow
Ay, mariposas, don't you hold on too tight
Both of you know it's your time to go, to fly apart, to reunite
Wonders surround you, just let the walls come down
Don't look behind you, fly 'til you find your way toward tomorrow
But I have to be willing to change. I have to be willing to emerge from my own cocoon. In "Waiting for a Miracle," Mirabel compares the gifted members of her family to shining stars. In the last song, "All of You," keeping with the theme of change, Mirabel sings:
Look at this family, a glowing constellationYou'll note that at the end of the video I posted, there is now an opening in the valley, a breach in the range of protective mountains. This is an invitation to Albuela and the community: It's time to leave the cocoon.
So full of stars, and everybody wants to shine
But the stars don't shine, they burn
And the constellations shift...
What does that mean for me?
I'm still trying to figure that out.
All three iterations of the card included Alma and Pedro's last kiss. The first draft of the card included an image of Abuela and Mirabel with the butterflies as the image at the bottom, but then I decided to make it more personal and included an image of myself wearing the black cocoon coat.
Then it occurred to me that I wanted to be holding Rob's candle. This is the candle that was lit for the first time at his memorial service. I have burned it since whenever I was particularly missing him, and now the candle is almost entirely gone, just like Abuela's candle. I was mulling in frustration yet again the problem of how I could take the picture of me holding the candle when it occurred to me for the first time that I could download an app that put the camera on timer. Duh. So you can actually see both my hands! Over that, I superimposed a butterfly's chrysalis. The name of the card is the word "chrysalis" in Spanish. The background is the storm of butterflies.
Here's the card:
Click here to see the 2022 52 Card Project gallery.
Click here to see the 2021 gallery.
Edited to add: Wow, right after I posted this, I checked Facebook, and this came up in my memories from four years ago: