Yesterday was another task mastering day. Among many mundane chores, I managed to pick up a security pass for tonight’s tree lighting ceremony and an oil painting that a partner in my firm gave to me. After dining on meatloaf, I settled in to watch Il Postino, an Italian film from the mid-90s. The movie made its way at an even pace, using outstanding cinematography and the universal language of love rather than Hollywood graphics and formulaic techniques. It wasn’t until the film’s last 20 minutes that I realized what a beautiful story I had just witnessed. My throat clenched so tightly I could barely breathe. Paquita was in a frenzy trying to lick my salty tears.
So subtle yet so sublime.