Her


I just watched Her on Friday night and haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Have you heard of it? It's about Theodore Twombly (played by the phenomenal Joaquin Pheonix), a soulful, lonely guy who's still mending from a breakup until he winds up falling in love with his computer's new artificially intelligent operating system, which has named herself Samantha. As the two get to know each other and Samantha's own intelligence develops into more complex thoughts, wants, needs, and consciousness, the two have to contend with frustrating limitations and the role they're playing in each other's lives.

It really made me think about what are the requirements for love to take form. Do you need physical contact or ever see or feel the person in order to care deeply about them? No, I don't believe so. Thanks to technology you can engage in a long distance relationship for years and still feel deeply connected to this person. I think the way into the heart is through the mind and as long as there's a sense that this person knows you, understands you, makes you happy, then love can blossom there. This movie blew me away with how much emotion voice can carry and how words can paint anything into being. Are the feelings any less real if the voice on the other side isn't human?

While Theodore keeps straddling the line between joy and doubt over his falling for software, I love that his friends are so open and accepting about the relationship between man and machine. Like his friend Amy put it, "I've just come to realize that, we're only here briefly. And while I'm here, I wanna allow myself joy. So fuck it."

Do you think you could ever fall in love with a machine? The way we're heading with our inability to unplug for a minute, I won't be surprised when that day arrives.



Image: newyorker.com

Asking Meaningful Questions


This week, I've been practicing on asking better questions. After reading Glennon Melton's piece on Momastery, I had to agree that sometimes asking generic questions only leads to throwaway answers. Questions like "how are you?" and "how was your day?" results in "fine, okay" when there might be so much more lying beyond that simple answer. It's up to us to ask questions that unravel those thoughts.

"We learned that if we really want to know our people, if we really care to know them - we need to ask them better questions and then really listen to their answers," Melton writes. "We need to ask questions that carry along with them this message: 'I'm not just checking the box here. I really care what you have to say and how you feel. I really want to know you.' If we don't want throwaway answers, we can't ask throwaway questions. A caring question is a key that will unlock a room inside the person you love."

When I first started asking A. more attentive questions when he came home from work, he pointed out that the downside is that it can sound a little patronizing. I admit it does feel a little silly in the beginning, but I assured him that it could turn up interesting answers for the both of us. Instead of asking how his day was (which, as Melton pointed out, is difficult to answer because a day holds so many things), I'll ask about specific moments he experienced: if he saw something interesting on the train ride home, how his bosses reacted to his web project, how the positive feedback made him feel, what he needs or wants at that moment. I'll try and remember to pause before asking follow-up questions to make sure they're not flippant either.

We're still getting used to asking intimate questions, but I like the fact that there's so much to glean from a person based off the answers they give you. In order for that window to open, you have to set the scene for them. Make it easier for them to unlock and share different facets of themselves with you. Hearing that the day was [insert vague emotion] for the umpteenth day in a row can get predictable - so much that we don't even hear or care too much about the answer because our mind just fills in the blank for them. How many times haven't I passed by someone in the office hallway who asked "How are you?" and kept walking right past me before I've even had a chance to answer?

The key also lies in how well you know the person as well as what's going in their lives. The potential for asking better questions grows as you become closer with someone and in turn, can improve the quality of that relationship.

"Questions are like gifts -- it's the thought behind them that the receiver really FEELS," Melton writes. "We have to know the receiver to give the right gift and to ask the right question. Generic gifts and questions are all right, but personal gifts and questions feel better. Love is specific, I think. It's an art. The more attention and time you give to your questions, the more beautiful the answers become."

To read her entire piece, click here.

P.S. Ten questions to ask your mother.

Image: oprah.com

Who Do You Follow On Instagram?

Instagram has grown to become pretty much my favorite of all social media. I love that it's so visual and easy to maintain while providing a fun and simple way to engage with other members. While scrolling through the accounts I follow, I realized that my feed is filled with colorful posts, beautiful photography, soft lighting, whimsical treats, and a lot of creativity sparks. It's almost like Pinterest, but so much more digestible.

Below are some of my favorite follows in case you were looking to add a few more to your feed.















Are you on Instagram? If so, you can find me at instagram.com/DorkysRamos. See you there!

War/Photography at the Brooklyn Museum


Last week, A. and I visited the Brooklyn Museum to see the War/Photography exhibition. I expected to be surrounded by gory images of death, but was instead lost in the walls of photos, article clips, and book pages showing the human race at its best and worst. I found myself wondering what on earth drives us to destroy each other, what motivates people to rip others of their rights and lives. When I entered the In Memoriam room, I just stood in front of the long list of journalists and photographers we've lost in combat. Men and women who were so dedicated to sharing these stories that they risked their lives for it. Sad thing is, while many might have died due to the dangerous nature of war, recent names are those of journalists who have been targeted, silenced. I felt like such a hack in front of that black wall. These were the people who chased those stories even if it came at such a high price.

The exhibition was not only a history lesson, but also a chance to show how photographers get up close and personal during some harrowing and inspiring moments, the stories behind iconic shots, and the role photography played in the art of war. It was a display of human emotion, compassion, how military men and women deal with the stresses of combat while trying to retain some sense of normality in their lives. The walls lead you through the experiences of recruitment, training, embarkation, daily routine, battle, death and destruction, homecoming, and remembrance. Some scenes and the accompanying stories were so heart-wrenching, difficult situations I couldn't imagine having to live through, but they were all someone's reality.

War/Photography: Images of Armed Conflict and Its Aftermath is on display at the Brooklyn Museum through Feb. 2nd.

P.S. If you need a place nearby to decompress after the exhibition and grab a bite to eat, Milk Bar (620 Vanderbilt Ave.) serves super tasty toasties that'll soothe you from the inside.

Image: brooklynmusem.org

New York City Vocabulary Lesson


Now I don't really venture onto BuzzFeed unless I'm learning about my introverted self, eating up a comedian's live tweets of a rooftop breakup, discovering what city I should actually live in (London??), or trying to figure out which Game of Thrones character I'd be (Arya!). I blame my Facebook friends for sharing all of those distracting links when I should be working instead of procrastinating with useless personality quizzes. But! I actually enjoyed this illustrated NYC dictionary posted this week. As the daughter of a bodeguero, I especially liked the entry above. And since it's been way below freezing in the city and I remember being shocked when A. didn't know what the hell I was talking about when I once said it was brick outside, I wanted to share the below with you, too.

Brick [brik] adjective
1: really fucking cold
2: November through March


To read up on some other NYC terms and finally learn how to pronounce Houston Street so you don't sound like a damn tourist, click here, and check out illustrator Michael Perez's work here.

Images: buzzfeed.com