la mission, benjamin bratt’s new movie, got me thinking.
while its cinematic quality was a little sub par, the issues raised, benjamin bratt’s swag, and the setting made it definitely worth it. set in the heart of the mission (cliche terms for low income areas are interesting), benjamin bratt is a tough father caught in between the loving his gay son and masculinity.
& oddly enough, it got me thinking about home. hOme.
in the past 2 and half years i’ve lived and moved through 8 cities, 2 countries, 11 houses. i can’t help but have a muddled idea of home. and here i am again, indulging in the city, enjoying my friends and getting anxious about having to leave it all behind – again. and as i watched la mission, i fell in love – again with the city..my city.
i’m from the bay. it’s not glamorous or posh. its famous but the streets are still free. its gritty and grimy..chalky in taste, fluid in fashion, beauty in dirt. there’s bridges, and pockets, and contradictions and chaos. but its mine. i grew up in it, i grow in it, i come back to it.
in that case, maybe its more of a home base. like the elation of a touch down .. the finality of a home run .. a place to breathe and release. its my constant but not always my current.. cuz after all this moving, i feel like people rather than a place make a home. as much as im a fatty (ok ok or “foodie”), whenever i leave a place, its the people i miss most. when i fast forward to establishing myself in la, i think about laughter over cybelles, excitement over left over desserts, revelations over dinner .. (hahha interestingly enough all those include food huh??)
nonetheless, this city is a novel unfolded. im reading each page, highlighting the inspiration, and tucking it into that special place in my blood i save for home – deceiving sunshine and all.
while i acknowledge the free spirit of my musings .. hOme and rOutine aint that bad.