On talent

Alright, I'll just get out of the closet right here and now: I severly dislike multi-talents. And when I say 'dislike', obviously what I mean is that I'm extremely jealous of them and I'd like to rip out their hearts and eat them to absorb their abilities. I've got a few friends who combine musical talents with graphic talents and being highly intelligent en ridiculously awesome in general. They're usually pretty people, too. Or maybe it's the other way around and their gifts make them beautiful. Anyway, if they wouldn't be my friends, I'd go all arty-farty critiquing bitchy on their ass because they'd intimidate me and I'd envy them. It's apparently pretty common for people who rock in one field of the arts to kick ass in other areas - something that is frustrating beyond words to me because I've always felt I'm not completely devoid of talents. I play some piano, I used sing, I can draw recognisable things and I like to play around with words, but I never got better than mediocre.

Let's, for instance, take a look at Tom Ford: fashion prodigy and film director?

It's hard to even describe how much this movie fuelled my love for film as an art form. I'm usually not the biggest film fanatic. There's a lot of classics I haven't seen and being everything but a connoisseur, I find it difficult to voice my movie related opinions. I don't have the vocabulary or the knowledge to accurately do so. I will try for this one, though, because it thouroughly moved me. A Single Man did not only challenge me to think (many a clever dialogue passed by), it challenged me to feel. The beautiful imagery and soundtrack contributed a great deal to this. I don't know if any other movie ever made me feel this way. A kind of sweet melancholy, intense, but not hurtful. A heightened feeling of being connected with the world, the people around me, the thoughts in my head. It felt as if I was a more sensitive version of myself, as if the movie had finetuned my sensory system. If that isn't art, I don't know what is.