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i. well intentioned but poorly executed\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n 02\/11\/23 6\/10<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dumbell Flat Bench <\/p>\n\n\n\n -42kg (7,7,7) <\/p>\n\n\n\n B.O Rows <\/p>\n\n\n\n -90kg (6,6 [superset 60kg for 6]) *could be better <\/p>\n\n\n\n Lat Pull Down <\/p>\n\n\n\n -86kg (7,6,5,6)<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pull Up\/Push Up<\/p>\n\n\n\n -Till Failure <\/p>\n\n\n\n 06\/11\/23 <\/p>\n\n\n\n DB Flat Bench <\/p>\n\n\n\n -42kg (7\/8?, 7,9!!)<\/p>\n\n\n\n (Move to 44 next session)<\/p>\n\n\n\n DB Shoulders<\/p>\n\n\n\n -30kg (6,6\/7,7)<\/p>\n\n\n\n B.O Rws<\/p>\n\n\n\n -90kg (8) <\/p>\n\n\n\n -100kg (6,8 (SS for 10 @60kg)<\/p>\n\n\n\n Landmine Press<\/p>\n\n\n\n -25kg (5,5,5) <\/p>\n\n\n\n SSw\/pushups<\/p>\n\n\n\n -till failure<\/p>\n\n\n\n 8\/10<\/p>\n\n\n\n 08\/11\/23<\/p>\n\n\n\n 3.4km(ish) – quick run <\/p>\n\n\n\n 5\/10<\/p>\n\n\n\n 09\/11\/23<\/p>\n\n\n\n Arm and Abs – quickish session <\/p>\n\n\n\n 6\/10<\/p>\n\n\n\n I have found a well intentioned notebook in my new flat with exercise routines dated from 2nd November 2023 to the 9th, lasting five days and two pages. The handwriting is crude and disjointed and initially I mistake it for my own. \u201cLandmine Press, 25kg, till failure\u201d catches my eye. The violent language with the factoring in of predetermined failure reads like poetry. The whole thing feels like poetry, you feel self-hate emanate from it. I sit there wonder what me finding this means, knowing it means absolutely nothing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Earlier this year I moved flat. I was to move in by myself, a decision that felt inevitable and undramatic but never the less earth moving. The prospect largely worried me not because I don\u2019t like being by myself but because it meant that something had ended and a very definitive change to my lifestyle was occurring. Maybe it was a hangup most people get once finish uni that had only arrived at now, a feeling which had prolonged itself into my mid 20s and as a result had caught me by surprise. It came to me as a shock that the rest of my life would not centre around whether or not peoples dishes were or were not done. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Part of moving involves finding bits of your past self you had neglected or intentionally hidden. And when moving out of a house I had lived in for five years a lot of things came back to me to remind me of how much had changed from when I moved in in the October of 2020, in the middle of a film degree and a global pandemic. There\u2019s that annotated script for that short film you made in third year, there\u2019s that pin for that band you were mildly obsessed with before they signed to a label, there\u2019s that NHS leaflet to check for that thing you convinced yourself you definitely had but turned out you didn\u2019t, oh look; there\u2019s that Cassio watch you lost in a plant-pot. You slowly assemble a tangible timeline like an archeological dig of the recent past. I think this was needed, a reminder that I lived and things happened and your not the same person you were but you also are and that\u2019s ok because those things are still there, waiting to remind you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I hired the cheapest removal man I could find for 8pm on a Wednesday evening after work. I packed up most of my things that I did not think would practically make a voyage on the number 60 bus. The removal man arrives and informed me I could fit more than I thought into his van, resulting in me frantically putting things in bin bags on multiple journeys back and fourth from the flat. On the journey over the driver told me he was saving up money to move to China, where he would cheaply import electronics to Africa. My head was so filled with logistical issues I did not have time to interrogate this elaborate hustle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The day I got the keys to my flat I arrived to find a meal prep kit on the ground inside the flat. I was quite flummoxed as to how the large box it had gotten into the flat. Only to come to the further baffling conclusion that perhaps the letting agent had seen it outside and taken it in at some indeterminate point. I wondered how long it has been in there festering and as I was yet to have a bin, or bin bags I left it on the kitchen counter, going off to do another lap of Glasgow to get DVD\u2019s I bought from a charity shop in 2019 and can\u2019t bare to part with because of mental illness. When I return it is waiting for me, I put it in a bin bag and throw away a months worth of pre-planned food, a level of food waste that makes you feel more sick than the contense of the mouldy meal kit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ve now moved in properly. No more food kits have arrived and I have started to settle in. The only issue is that the bed frame that came with the flat is horrible. It\u2019s two hard boxes that hold the mattress. I have my own bed frame I brought with me and the landlord has said he will send over someone to take the old one away. The man who arrives is in his 70s and not particularly mobile. I immediately feel bad for getting him to carry these two large pieces of furniture down from the top floor tenement so I help him. I notice he\u2019s not taking it to the front door, where I presumed he would put it in his van. Instead, he takes it into the communal garden and dumps it there. He does the same with the second one. He is not going to collect them and instead I have just assisted him in fly tipping in my own garden, I could have done that myself. As I walk back into the flat I realise I have tread dog shit into the carpet, I panic slightly and pour bleach on it. The stain is still there and I notice it every time I come in. It is a constant reminder of how evil the concept of owning investment property is. This will be taken out of my deposit when I move out. Every time I go down the stairs I see the bed frame out the back and think that this is not the best way to ingratiate me to my new neighbours. I eventually email the council and pay for them to take it away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Im not sure if any of these individual anecdotes have any meaning but at the time they felt important in their closeness to one another, as if I were to squint at them they would overlap and create a wholly new image. I became quite fascinated as to who this man was who lived in my flat before me? Who had pre-planned meals and badly planned exercise routines and slept on an uncomfortable bed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I thought perhaps that a benefit to my new life hidden away from people would be that I would be much more productive, not having as much distraction. But so far this has not proven to be the case. I admonish myself for not working but I find it hard without a specified goal and routine, at least when I lived with two other people I had something to bounce off and generally was more engaged by the hateful process of writing. The same self hate and expectation of inevitable failure that emanates from those exercise notes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n ii. miscommunication\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I want to be in control <\/p>\n\n\n\n And I want to be told what to do,<\/p>\n\n\n\n I would like you to tell me what to do <\/p>\n\n\n\n And to not listen. <\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n I want to push<\/p>\n\n\n\n My hand through the wall <\/p>\n\n\n\n And feel the cold air <\/p>\n\n\n\n On the other side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n I think I want to turn around<\/p>\n\n\n\n But I have run out of room<\/p>\n\n\n\n And I fear I might make things worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Have you two met before?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Are you sure its ok for me to be here?<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n The past does not often return but <\/p>\n\n\n\n When it does it does so abruptly;<\/p>\n\n\n\n Sitting in the garden in the sun<\/p>\n\n\n\n I look up at you and squint<\/p>\n\n\n\n I wish I knew what it was <\/p>\n\n\n\n That you were trying to tell me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n iii. blue heron review<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Blue Heron is a 2025 film by Canadian filmmaker Sophy Romvari. The film follows a Hungarian families attempts to assimilate into life on Vancouver Island in the 1990s. The film is very much defined by this place and time, the set design and small flourishes work to settle the film into its uniquely specified world. Whether it be the fathers constant impulse to film and photograph informing the multi media look or smaller moments, such as the youngest daughter using MS Paint sitting on her fathers lap. Everything feels half remembered, an image slowly developing in a dark room. Moments that have stuck out as its reality lurches forward, never altering until it does remarkably.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The film centres on the dynamics between each family member as they try to acclimatise to their new life, with the oldest son Jeremy struggling the most and subsequently acting out. There is a general sense of unease as the story progresses as you wait for something to go truly wrong, a catharsis that never fully erupts and we are left to pick up the only half broken pieces that no longer quite fit together. Perhaps that adds to the heartbreak of the narrative, that there is often scenes that disagree with each other, that never portray what is going on as a single melodramatic note but instead as small unspoken tragedies, the weight of which isn\u2019t truly felt until the final act.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In terms of the technical filmmaking on display, it is some of the best of the year. The film looks beautiful in its soft egg shell tinted palette and you can tell that Sophy has true control of her shot construction, one in particular that pans to the refection from a mirror as someone walks out the room being rather remarkable. As well as in the same scene a very long take that has an amazing tonal effect without being obvious. I also found the sound design to stand out in how it was used both viscerally and to put you in a particular perspective. In general, the way the film is able to play with perspective and its success in using a less than conventional structure for a first feature is really impressive in its confidence. Without giving too much away, there is a structural change that occurs around half way through that is truly magical. As it played out I wondered how far this filmmaking choice was going to be taken, and it turns out Sophy decided to do so to its fullest extent, far beyond what I even thought possible. This shift accomplishes an altered perspective to view the events of the past hour, and then does so again, and again, working to analyse and reinterpret its story from multiple angles each of which unlocks a new emotional resonance. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I was lucky enough to attend a screening that included a Q and A with actor \u00c1d\u00e1m Tompa, who plays the patriarch of the family. I thought it felt very random to have the actor at the GFT, with director Romvari initially also suppose to be attending. That was until \u00c1d\u00e1m informed us that he in fact lives in Glasgow. \u00c1dam gave good insight into the process from his perspective, that painted a picture of a very low budget production that really pushed its crew to its fullest. He also honed in on something that escaped me when watching the film, that being the cultural specificity of the the story being that of Hungarian immigrants in Canada. He pointed to the stoic, bottled up nature of the specifically Hungarian family unit and how assimilation into a culture often involves ignoring imperfections. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u00c1d\u00e1m also illuminated the fact that one scene in the film used all non-actors. This moment being a panel of, it turns out, real life social workers and therapists. There is also a moment towards the end where a voicemail is played out and I now wonder if this too was of a real person. This is again symptomatic of Romvari\u2019s inventiveness and immediacy as a filmmaker that produces something remarkable, a portrait of trauma that slowly develops in the dark. <\/p>\n\n\n\n iv. a strongly worded conversation<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Your mother takes me aside to have a quick word with me. I immediately flush red. I was hoping I could act like I don\u2019t really care but my face is giving me away. I wish that I was underwater, or in a cave, or anywhere that was not here right at this moment. Her huge mean eyes are prompting me to respond and she herself has now gone quite pink. <\/p>\n\n\n\n So we stand there, two differently rouged people in the kitchenette and I wonder if she really is as annoyed as she looks. It is probably an inopportune time to suddenly realise you have the exact same brow as her, I never noticed that before. Luckily you did not inherit her big mean eyes, your eyes are far more blas\u00e9. <\/p>\n\n\n\n There has been too long a silence now and I regret freezing up and not listening to all the things she has been firmly informing me of. In this silence I sense some of the anger has left the room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell?\u201d She open-endedly enquires in an attempt to jumpstart her annoyance \u201cdo you care to explain yourself?\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I fear I cannot so I look down at the tiled floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy did you put your hand into the tiramisu?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know what it was\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI didn\u2019t know what it was, I didn\u2019t realise it was food.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" i. well intentioned but poorly executed ii. miscommunication\u00a0iii. blue heron review iv. a difficult conversation i. well intentioned but poorly executed\u00a0 02\/11\/23 6\/10 Dumbell Flat Bench -42kg (7,7,7) B.O Rows -90kg (6,6 [superset 60kg for 6]) *could be better Lat Pull Down -86kg (7,6,5,6) Pull Up\/Push Up -Till Failure 06\/11\/23 DB Flat Bench -42kg (7\/8?, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-884","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/884","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=884"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/884\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":911,"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/884\/revisions\/911"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=884"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=884"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.splatzine.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=884"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}\n
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