family: the first of many, disjointed parts

i've been listening to some music that's quickly become one of my recent top plays: the bands mum and sigur ros (both icelandic, the latter being one that is pretty mainstream - at least according to the 'top albums' list on itunes). i'm not good at figuring out what category of music bands are, and as much as i like judging people and things, i think i'm coming around to not categorizing what i like. so, here's to music that i simply *like*: mum uses bells, of some sort, and accordions(?). you may recognize sigur ros from the trailer to 'children of men'.

with this ethereal sonic experience ringing in my ears and in my room, it's no wonder that i've been somewhat reflective lately. last night simply added another dimension to it: i saw 'the darjeeling limited' with some friends. it was good, as anderson films go (i'm not going to synopsize or critique: these two - a and b - do a much better job). but, what struck me was the atypical sense of family in it - anderson's other films are about dysfunctional families, but there're peripheral characters that are often interlopers/proponents of the dysfunction. tdl was all about the remaining members of a dysfunctional nuclear family. i identified with it because (wait for it) it was set in india - but, more because *my* family really is nuclear. we're not close to all 12 of my parents' combined brothers and sisters. it's really just us: my parents and sis, without nearly the same degree of dysfunction, but with quirks and tics that i have come to love. i liked the fact that though it was set in this exotic locale that 'foreigners' sought out to 'experience something', it really could have been any country (cambodia, tibet, what have you) alien and mystical to the characters. in the end, it was about finding that sense of connection that was missing (which may have once been there).

i think my connection with my family doesn't lack for anything major - my mother certainly hasn't left to join a convent. but, i do feel a little bit like i've lost my moorings. i'm in my *gasp* mid-twenties, and i've realized that i'd like to have my family with me again - something i wouldn't have said even a year ago. heck, every time i've left, it's been to coasts diametrically opposite to where i was raised and where my family still is. i don't know if it's biological - or more than that: this atavistic calling to have something that is really my own.

and something for you guys to ponder: from the modern love column of the nytimes.