Below is a book review I wrote for Hyphen Magazine
Read the book, see the movie it references!
***
Shooting Water: A Memoir of Second Chances, Family and Filmmaking
a book by DEVYANI SALTZMAN
Coming of age is never easy. Especially when your life brings you up close and personal with the sharp edges between two parents, cultures and religions. In Shooting Water, Saltzman writes with a rawness that will make you embarrassed for her and then humbled by how honestly she explores and grows from her insecurities. The memoir begins in 1999 when Saltzman decides to accompany her mother, filmmaker Deepa Mehta, to the holy Indian city of Varanasi to assist with the production of Mehta's controversial film Water, about the plight of widows in colonial India. The planned three-month shoot was going to be the longest time Saltzman spent with her mother since her parents' divorce when she was 11, when Saltzman chose to live with her father-a Jewish Canadian photographer. Instead, Hindu fundamentalists shut down the movie one week into production. The subsequent five-year struggle to produce Water is the backdrop for Saltzman's multi-layered narrative, which chronicles her relationship with her mother with honesty and clarity. In the meantime, Saltzman falls in love, hits the crash of heartbreak, and goes to Oxford. Four years later, Saltzman rejoins the film crew in Sri Lanka as the film's still photographer. Saltzman's photographic eye serves her well. She writes her memoir eloquently, translating her journey into adulthood with a memorable, poetic and political lens. -Kirthi Nath
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The Pond
Her name was Girijha. When she was a child of five, the sunsets would be most dramatic. There were never other dramatic sunsets. The sky bled loudly. Time existed only as a way for her to express her personality. Hop scotch squares drawn with the colors blue, yellow and green. Sea shells as dice. With death, she did not die, only her personality.
This to that take it
in a splat.
Did I ever tell you about the pond?
Richly.
His voice sounded different to his sister. Does it, are you sure, what is different about it. Was she hearing the minute latitude of change? In five years this may be how his voice ends up, how exciting if she hears it from the beginning. The very beginning. This will be a very difficult thing to keep track of, I hope you understand this before you start investing so much attention. And plus, it might all be a hoax.
What a way.
How is he related to Girijha? He is not like the moon is not round.
On the pond
Me you and mildew
Farting
In the pond
It seemed so clear, so blue
Haunting
I don’t want to be there for you anymore.
On the forth day it started to disappear.
We all wanted to be strong.
-1999
This to that take it
in a splat.
Did I ever tell you about the pond?
Richly.
His voice sounded different to his sister. Does it, are you sure, what is different about it. Was she hearing the minute latitude of change? In five years this may be how his voice ends up, how exciting if she hears it from the beginning. The very beginning. This will be a very difficult thing to keep track of, I hope you understand this before you start investing so much attention. And plus, it might all be a hoax.
What a way.
How is he related to Girijha? He is not like the moon is not round.
On the pond
Me you and mildew
Farting
In the pond
It seemed so clear, so blue
Haunting
I don’t want to be there for you anymore.
On the forth day it started to disappear.
We all wanted to be strong.
-1999
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Flying
October 5, 2003
When I looked up just now I saw that it was still sunny outside, but it must have been breezy because the grown plant outside was swaying. “Swaying the in the wind” have you.
Sometimes it is hard to imagine what I have never experienced, but sometimes that is the only way.
If I stopped feeling bloated and felt empty and hungry I could eat as I wanted to. Actually, I know I can do anything I want to, but what holds me back is knowing what feels better and the knowing that this is a distraction for something else. I want to touch, but don’t know where or what. Like when you take a deep breathe but your nose is slightly clogged up as if you had allergies but you don’t. At least not last time you checked, or forever as you knew it. What would it mean if every place you visited in the next week had a stash of pistachios. It would mean nothing at all, but what could it mean?
Yesterday in the documentary film I saw the granddaughter recited that her grandfather thought his wife was an obstacle to his spiritual growth. Her grandmother said her husband was an obstacle to her human growth.
They had had a love marriage and after 20 years divorced in the 1950’s, India. 60 years later when her ex-husband was on his deathbed going mad and thinking he was in a time 70 years prior still in love with his wife, she refused to come see him. Her anger towards him was in a hole that would never be rooted enough to break away, it swayed in the never ending.
Is one silent when they are flying?
When I looked up just now I saw that it was still sunny outside, but it must have been breezy because the grown plant outside was swaying. “Swaying the in the wind” have you.
Sometimes it is hard to imagine what I have never experienced, but sometimes that is the only way.
If I stopped feeling bloated and felt empty and hungry I could eat as I wanted to. Actually, I know I can do anything I want to, but what holds me back is knowing what feels better and the knowing that this is a distraction for something else. I want to touch, but don’t know where or what. Like when you take a deep breathe but your nose is slightly clogged up as if you had allergies but you don’t. At least not last time you checked, or forever as you knew it. What would it mean if every place you visited in the next week had a stash of pistachios. It would mean nothing at all, but what could it mean?
Yesterday in the documentary film I saw the granddaughter recited that her grandfather thought his wife was an obstacle to his spiritual growth. Her grandmother said her husband was an obstacle to her human growth.
They had had a love marriage and after 20 years divorced in the 1950’s, India. 60 years later when her ex-husband was on his deathbed going mad and thinking he was in a time 70 years prior still in love with his wife, she refused to come see him. Her anger towards him was in a hole that would never be rooted enough to break away, it swayed in the never ending.
Is one silent when they are flying?
Saturday, September 16, 2006
it has been way longer then i wish
It has been way longer then I wish
Close your eyes and watch as the orange light shines in the surface. Next, point your chest toward the sky and open your heart. Really, open it. She is going to stop drinking so she can honor her body and not be numb. She is really going to do it this time.
Last night she got home around midnight but for strange reasons ended up staying awake till 6 am. The hour before sleep was spent preparing a meal, which unlike most, did not turn out that great. There is usually never any bread in the house and when there is, it goes bad. A lot of things go bad. There is nothing redeeming about smoking, but last night, when she stood outside on her balcony there was a parade of leaves on the street. This is the sign, it is the time for fall.
Close your eyes and watch as the orange light shines in the surface. Next, point your chest toward the sky and open your heart. Really, open it. She is going to stop drinking so she can honor her body and not be numb. She is really going to do it this time.
Last night she got home around midnight but for strange reasons ended up staying awake till 6 am. The hour before sleep was spent preparing a meal, which unlike most, did not turn out that great. There is usually never any bread in the house and when there is, it goes bad. A lot of things go bad. There is nothing redeeming about smoking, but last night, when she stood outside on her balcony there was a parade of leaves on the street. This is the sign, it is the time for fall.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
sept 11 for 2006; breathe, beacause it matters
On the eve of sept 11, 2006, I start a new class with my amazing YouthLink students.
Been thinking a lot about what it means to live in the world today.
When I watch the work they have been making, it takes my breath away.
Tomorow we meet and I am going to give them the following proposals for thier advanced projects:
YL 30 Advanced Video Class:
Documenting history as it happens so we can carve out a space for the future
It has been 5 years since the 9/11 tragedy. How this incident changed and continues to change the world, the US and impact the lives of individuals is expansive. How it will be recorded and written in the history books is a timely and important question.
What do President Bush’s Post 9/11 anti-terror policies mean to you? How do they directly and indirectly impact the world we live in? What kind of future lies ahead? How does 9/11 overshadow other important and urgent issues that need attention both locally and globally? What does this all mean for you and how do you think it effects your present life, your future world?
While mainstream Hollywood pictures, and biased media (on both sides) present their view of life since 9/11, you (YouthLink 30 students) will research, discover and explore other, all to often silenced and unattended stories that may otherwise never make it into the news or the big screen. We will use the September 11 tragedy as a way to explore what it means to be alive in the world today, through the eyes of US based youth. We will make media that will not only contribute to the writing of this history, but, by sharing new and fresh perspectives and stories, have an impact on the future.
Been thinking a lot about what it means to live in the world today.
When I watch the work they have been making, it takes my breath away.
Tomorow we meet and I am going to give them the following proposals for thier advanced projects:
YL 30 Advanced Video Class:
Documenting history as it happens so we can carve out a space for the future
It has been 5 years since the 9/11 tragedy. How this incident changed and continues to change the world, the US and impact the lives of individuals is expansive. How it will be recorded and written in the history books is a timely and important question.
What do President Bush’s Post 9/11 anti-terror policies mean to you? How do they directly and indirectly impact the world we live in? What kind of future lies ahead? How does 9/11 overshadow other important and urgent issues that need attention both locally and globally? What does this all mean for you and how do you think it effects your present life, your future world?
While mainstream Hollywood pictures, and biased media (on both sides) present their view of life since 9/11, you (YouthLink 30 students) will research, discover and explore other, all to often silenced and unattended stories that may otherwise never make it into the news or the big screen. We will use the September 11 tragedy as a way to explore what it means to be alive in the world today, through the eyes of US based youth. We will make media that will not only contribute to the writing of this history, but, by sharing new and fresh perspectives and stories, have an impact on the future.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
i am still
i am still in "love" with her.
if you want to know more, or change things, please do so.
i am ready.
are you?
i am also kind, fyi.
if you want to know more, or change things, please do so.
i am ready.
are you?
i am also kind, fyi.
Options_Poetry
I like options.
It is cold, my fingers.
Brink of cold.
But.
Linda tells me, kiddo, learn to take the
shortcut.
Love Yourself.
Don't be so mean.
No one will ever know.
All of a sudden:
In the airport, Bangalore to SFO. I drink the pineapple juice not because I am thirsty but bc Ajji made it for me. With love. I love and drink. It suffocates me a little. What does it all mean?
Still in the airport, then on the airplane, I try to hold on, everything is there, but undertermined.
I am here for the present.
It is cold, my fingers.
Brink of cold.
But.
Linda tells me, kiddo, learn to take the
shortcut.
Love Yourself.
Don't be so mean.
No one will ever know.
All of a sudden:
In the airport, Bangalore to SFO. I drink the pineapple juice not because I am thirsty but bc Ajji made it for me. With love. I love and drink. It suffocates me a little. What does it all mean?
Still in the airport, then on the airplane, I try to hold on, everything is there, but undertermined.
I am here for the present.
Monday, February 13, 2006
You died of a broken heart in your past life
You died of a broken heart in your past life.
She asks me what I need to know to let go.
How can I be open to love?
Ok, let me explain something and then I will ask you again.
Imagine that you are in your room.
I am in my room.
Look around.
It is light blue. The walls, the painted wooden floor, the sun light slips between the white curtains. Pulled together at the center.
Now, you need to look around to see what is in there that you can take out. For example, you have a big almara that is blocking up the space. It is time.
I know it is there, but I can't see it as such, as this is a metaphor anyway.
You need to take this thing out before you let something new in.
I am going to ask you once again.
I have three words: my father, confidence, desire.
She draws the 4 of cups.
A woman has her back to the deep blue ocean. She is in an open walled temple. She sits in the middle as 2 women talk to her.
You are usually the listener and the teacher. You have been trying to compensate for the one who left.
Do you know what you need to do?
I am fixated on the blue of the water.
In yoga class I realize, I have no idea what to do. Be present. Be here. Or fall. Look at that point on the ground to keep your balance. Move your torso, keep your hips where they are. Breathe. Om Namo Naryana.
For my bed, I finally get a new cover. A quilt. I sweep and bleach-mop my floor. I will take out the trash next week. I draw the curtains. I burn a lilac scented incense.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
