Carrie was one-of-a-kind brilliant, original. Funny and emotionally fearless. She lived her life, bravely, Ford said. My thoughts are with her daughter Billie, her mother Debbie, her brother Todd, and her many friends. We will all miss her.
http://ew.com/movies/2016/12/27/harrison-ford-carrie-fisher-was-one-of-a-kind/
What if they filmed a death on-screen and they want to tone this down now?
Nah. It'll be a celebration. And if it's not, every single Star Wars fan there will be doing her a disservice. Her, and themselves.
Celebration needs to be the biggest, goofiest, most irreverent wake for Princess Leia there will ever be. And people need to laugh til their tear-stained cheeks hurt.
One of the few smiles from me today has been imagining how much Carrie would be giving everyone a hard time for their sentiments. Not enough people in the world with her kind of wit.
"...whether she liked it or not."
They're all gonna go. Your mom, your dad, Your sisters & brothers. All of em are gonna go, and it's coming faster than anyone wants, and it's going to hurt goddammit, it's gonna hurt so fucking bad, if these people we've never met are going to affect us this much what's it gonna be like when the people we really know wink out of our sky, right?
It's a thing I've been thinking about off and on this afternoon, this "Baby Bust" as people are calling it, and how it really started to kick us all in the chest this year. The sheer number of people born, the rise of our media machine into something altogether different, the way that machine put so many people into our living rooms, the way we latched onto these movie stars, these musicians, these athletes, the way they became the background noise of our childhoods, the fabric of the security blankets we'd tuck up under our chins when life started kicking our ass and we needed to go lay down for a minute to recuperate.
Now they're all leaving, and it's not just the reminder of mortality, because I think most of us know that all things end, eventually, and it's more about what you do with that time, and how you spend it, and who you spend it with. On some level we know it's more about the how of our life than the what.
But David Bowie goes, and Prince goes, and Carrie Fisher goes, and Gene Wilder goes, and Muhammad Ali goes, all these stars winking out one after another, and you can't help but think about your star, and the ones in your orbit.
They're all gonna go. Your mom, your dad, Your sisters & brothers. All of em are gonna go, and it's coming faster than anyone wants, and it's going to hurt goddammit, it's gonna hurt so fucking bad, if these people we've never met are going to affect us this much what's it gonna be like when the people we really know wink out of our sky, right?
They're all gonna go, and despite all our own bullshit, all our stupid baggage, the struggles and the frustrations we all have trying just to maintain in the face of our problems, we owe it to them to take the best parts of them, and incorporate them into ourselves as best we can, and take that into the future, for everyone's sake. We owe it to them. We owe it to us.
That's one hell of a responsibility, ain't it? That shit isn't easy. And this year just won't stop reminding us of all this impermanent beauty and genius. And it's never going to let up as we keep moving forward, either. Who wants to waste all that inspiration? Who wouldn't want to be that inspiration for someone else if they could?
This is what life is, I guess. The absorption and transformation of love, into loss, and back again into more love.
The work is rewarding as hell, but it's never going to get easier. You just hope that when it's your turn for that transformation, you leave behind as much as these people left you.
That's what I've been thinking about this afternoon.
It's a thing I've been thinking about off and on this afternoon, this "Baby Bust" as people are calling it, and how it really started to kick us all in the chest this year. The sheer number of people born, the rise of our media machine into something altogether different, the way that machine put so many people into our living rooms, the way we latched onto these movie stars, these musicians, these athletes, the way they became the background noise of our childhoods, the fabric of the security blankets we'd tuck up under our chins when life started kicking our ass and we needed to go lay down for a minute to recuperate.
Now they're all leaving, and it's not just the reminder of mortality, because I think most of us know that all things end, eventually, and it's more about what you do with that time, and how you spend it, and who you spend it with. On some level we know it's more about the how of our life than the what.
But David Bowie goes, and Prince goes, and Carrie Fisher goes, and Gene Wilder goes, and Muhammad Ali goes, all these stars winking out one after another, and you can't help but think about your star, and the ones in your orbit.
They're all gonna go. Your mom, your dad, Your sisters & brothers. All of em are gonna go, and it's coming faster than anyone wants, and it's going to hurt goddammit, it's gonna hurt so fucking bad, if these people we've never met are going to affect us this much what's it gonna be like when the people we really know wink out of our sky, right?
They're all gonna go, and despite all our own bullshit, all our stupid baggage, the struggles and the frustrations we all have trying just to maintain in the face of our problems, we owe it to them to take the best parts of them, and incorporate them into ourselves as best we can, and take that into the future, for everyone's sake. We owe it to them. We owe it to us.
That's one hell of a responsibility, ain't it? That shit isn't easy. And this year just won't stop reminding us of all this impermanent beauty and genius. And it's never going to let up as we keep moving forward, either. Who wants to waste all that inspiration? Who wouldn't want to be that inspiration for someone else if they could?
This is what life is, I guess. The absorption and transformation of love, into loss, and back again into more love.
The work is rewarding as hell, but it's never going to get easier. You just hope that when it's your turn for that transformation, you leave behind as much as these people left you.
That's what I've been thinking about this afternoon.
And now I'm crying.It's a thing I've been thinking about off and on this afternoon, this "Baby Bust" as people are calling it, and how it really started to kick us all in the chest this year. The sheer number of people born, the rise of our media machine into something altogether different, the way that machine put so many people into our living rooms, the way we latched onto these movie stars, these musicians, these athletes, the way they became the background noise of our childhoods, the fabric of the security blankets we'd tuck up under our chins when life started kicking our ass and we needed to go lay down for a minute to recuperate.
Now they're all leaving, and it's not just the reminder of mortality, because I think most of us know that all things end, eventually, and it's more about what you do with that time, and how you spend it, and who you spend it with. On some level we know it's more about the how of our life than the what.
But David Bowie goes, and Prince goes, and Carrie Fisher goes, and Gene Wilder goes, and Muhammad Ali goes, all these stars winking out one after another, and you can't help but think about your star, and the ones in your orbit.
They're all gonna go. Your mom, your dad, Your sisters & brothers. All of em are gonna go, and it's coming faster than anyone wants, and it's going to hurt goddammit, it's gonna hurt so fucking bad, if these people we've never met are going to affect us this much what's it gonna be like when the people we really know wink out of our sky, right?
They're all gonna go, and despite all our own bullshit, all our stupid baggage, the struggles and the frustrations we all have trying just to maintain in the face of our problems, we owe it to them to take the best parts of them, and incorporate them into ourselves as best we can, and take that into the future, for everyone's sake. We owe it to them. We owe it to us.
That's one hell of a responsibility, ain't it? That shit isn't easy. And this year just won't stop reminding us of all this impermanent beauty and genius. And it's never going to let up as we keep moving forward, either. Who wants to waste all that inspiration? Who wouldn't want to be that inspiration for someone else if they could?
This is what life is, I guess. The absorption and transformation of love, into loss, and back again into more love.
The work is rewarding as hell, but it's never going to get easier. You just hope that when it's your turn for that transformation, you leave behind as much as these people left you.
That's what I've been thinking about this afternoon.
It's a thing I've been thinking about off and on this afternoon, this "Baby Bust" as people are calling it, and how it really started to kick us all in the chest this year. The sheer number of people born, the rise of our media machine into something altogether different, the way that machine put so many people into our living rooms, the way we latched onto these movie stars, these musicians, these athletes, the way they became the background noise of our childhoods, the fabric of the security blankets we'd tuck up under our chins when life started kicking our ass and we needed to go lay down for a minute to recuperate.
Now they're all leaving, and it's not just the reminder of mortality, because I think most of us know that all things end, eventually, and it's more about what you do with that time, and how you spend it, and who you spend it with. On some level we know it's more about the how of our life than the what.
But David Bowie goes, and Prince goes, and Carrie Fisher goes, and Gene Wilder goes, and Muhammad Ali goes, all these stars winking out one after another, and you can't help but think about your star, and the ones in your orbit.
They're all gonna go. Your mom, your dad, Your sisters & brothers. All of em are gonna go, and it's coming faster than anyone wants, and it's going to hurt goddammit, it's gonna hurt so fucking bad, if these people we've never met are going to affect us this much what's it gonna be like when the people we really know wink out of our sky, right?
They're all gonna go, and despite all our own bullshit, all our stupid baggage, the struggles and the frustrations we all have trying just to maintain in the face of our problems, we owe it to them to take the best parts of them, and incorporate them into ourselves as best we can, and take that into the future, for everyone's sake. We owe it to them. We owe it to us.
That's one hell of a responsibility, ain't it? That shit isn't easy. And this year just won't stop reminding us of all this impermanent beauty and genius. And it's never going to let up as we keep moving forward, either. Who wants to waste all that inspiration? Who wouldn't want to be that inspiration for someone else if they could?
This is what life is, I guess. The absorption and transformation of love, into loss, and back again into more love.
The work is rewarding as hell, but it's never going to get easier. You just hope that when it's your turn for that transformation, you leave behind as much as these people left you.
That's what I've been thinking about this afternoon.
It's a thing I've been thinking about off and on this afternoon, this "Baby Bust" as people are calling it, and how it really started to kick us all in the chest this year. The sheer number of people born, the rise of our media machine into something altogether different, the way that machine put so many people into our living rooms, the way we latched onto these movie stars, these musicians, these athletes, the way they became the background noise of our childhoods, the fabric of the security blankets we'd tuck up under our chins when life started kicking our ass and we needed to go lay down for a minute to recuperate.
Now they're all leaving, and it's not just the reminder of mortality, because I think most of us know that all things end, eventually, and it's more about what you do with that time, and how you spend it, and who you spend it with. On some level we know it's more about the how of our life than the what.
But David Bowie goes, and Prince goes, and Carrie Fisher goes, and Gene Wilder goes, and Muhammad Ali goes, all these stars winking out one after another, and you can't help but think about your star, and the ones in your orbit.
They're all gonna go. Your mom, your dad, Your sisters & brothers. All of em are gonna go, and it's coming faster than anyone wants, and it's going to hurt goddammit, it's gonna hurt so fucking bad, if these people we've never met are going to affect us this much what's it gonna be like when the people we really know wink out of our sky, right?
They're all gonna go, and despite all our own bullshit, all our stupid baggage, the struggles and the frustrations we all have trying just to maintain in the face of our problems, we owe it to them to take the best parts of them, and incorporate them into ourselves as best we can, and take that into the future, for everyone's sake. We owe it to them. We owe it to us.
That's one hell of a responsibility, ain't it? That shit isn't easy. And this year just won't stop reminding us of all this impermanent beauty and genius. And it's never going to let up as we keep moving forward, either. Who wants to waste all that inspiration? Who wouldn't want to be that inspiration for someone else if they could?
This is what life is, I guess. The absorption and transformation of love, into loss, and back again into more love.
The work is rewarding as hell, but it's never going to get easier. You just hope that when it's your turn for that transformation, you leave behind as much as these people left you.
That's what I've been thinking about this afternoon.
I keep bursting into tears every now and then since I heard the news. I cry, then I focus on other stuff, and I think it has passed, that I'm gonna feel sad and that's it. And then outta nowhere the tears come back.
Everyone is devastated.
I just talked to my mom about it, apparently she met her once, back in the late 80's. It was all happenstance, she was staying in a hotel near the supermarket my mom worked at. She went there late in the evening to get some alcohol, and there was a flood of people bothering her. She made a comment about there has to be something better to do, than to watch a tired, worn out actress pick out her friend for the night. The manager then told everyone to scoot and escorted her to the register my mom was at.
My mom waited on her, didn't even reference who she was, just smiled, and Carrie told her "Thank you. Thank you for one minute of normalcy."
I had no idea this even happened. I'm 37, my mom knows how important Star Wars is to me, she said he was saving this for "the right time".
This was it.
Watching Return of the Jedi as we speak