Watching "Brokeback Mountain" only exacerbated a recent emotional hangover. And I thought I had recovered.
Anyway, I'm glad so many of my people, all too familiar with a seemingly constant stream of vulgarity and flash, are being exposed, in such great numbers, to the beauties of quiet subtlety. (Most admired about this film, besides Heath Ledger's performance, was the unobtrusive direction of Ang Lee. No forced melodrama here). Maybe it'll take, or is that just more wishful thinking?
Plenty of longing, on so many fronts. And I didn't feel a bit patronized, the sin of so many gay-themed flicks.
***Pictured: The Gallatin Mountain range in Montana, where I spent a too-brief period of my life more than a decade ago. Coincidentally, it's where I came to terms with my nature, spurred on by an ill-advised hook-up with a female gymnast who had apparently never before encountered a flaccid penis. She was not amused.
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