2017 disney rewatch · life with muse and maestro

Disney Rewatch: 1937 – 1940!

My husband (whom I refer to as Maestro on Ye Olde Grande Internette for various reasons) and I are homebodies, for sure, and fairly broke ones at that. Between a student working part time (me) and a professional musician (him), we don’t make a lot of extra money to spend on entertainment. Thus, we are big believers in Netflix and other such streaming services, and also what the kids call “bingewatching.” We are also big Disney nerds – I have been for most of my life, and I converted Maestro well enough that we spent our honeymoon last year in Disney World.

Having caught up on all the television shows we’re currently interested in, we decided to embark on a grand rewatch of the Disney animated canon, as well as things that are animated and live action! We might decide to throw a few of the solely live action movies in as well, but we figured even just the animated movies would keep us busy for a while!

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Snow White, the character, holds a special place in my heart – when Maestro and I first dated (back in high school), the first song he ever wrote for me referred to me as Snow White. She’sΒ sweet and kind, thoughtful and self-effacing, so even though she’s fallen out of fashion these days I still love her and aspire to be like her!

That said, rewatching Snow White’s tale was delightful! I hadn’t seen it since I was very little, so I’d forgotten many of the less-famous songs, and the art and aesthetics are absolutely beautiful.

Pinocchio is MUCH stranger than I remember it being – and for the record, I remembered the donkey thing and the whale thing, so I remembered it being strange enough. I didn’t remember that some animals can talk and others can’t with no real rhyme or reason to it, and I really didn’t remember that Jiminy Cricket was just a random cricket hobo who got appointed as Pinocchio’s conscience for no dang good reason!

I think that we can all agree that Figaro is the cutest Disney cat, though.

I remembered the parts of Fantasia that I liked as a child – namely, the parts set to the Nutcracker suite (I took ballet lessons as a child and loved ballet music!), especially the snow and flower fairies, and the Pastoral Symphony with the pegasus family that looks a bit like if Maestro and I were pegasus (pegasi?) with a bunch of pegasus babies.

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(look at them omg!)

I did NOT remember the talk about evolution before the Rites of Spring interlude (or, frankly, the dinosaurs at all!), and I didn’t really remember the last part set to the Night on Bald Mountain and the Ave Maria. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I enjoyed the same parts the most on this rewatch – I haven’t changed that much since I was little, I guess!

me: why are these fish so sexualized
Maestro: (grimly) that’s the 40s for you.

(watching dinosaurs starving in the desert) aw that’s going to be us soon! 😬

Watch this space for more Disney Rewatch fun soon!

everything and nothing

if you’re so smart, tell me why are you still so afraid?

My husband thinks that I am too hard on myself. Or rather, he likes to say “you are good at everything except recognizing how good you are.” I think this is maybe an exaggeration. When I press him on it (“everything??”), he admits that I’m probably not any good at basketball, considering I am about five-foot-one and not super coordinated. But he points out that this is what he’s talking about: I’ll focus on something that I can’t do to the exclusion of things I can, up to and including focusing on the things I have no interest in trying to do.

(“You don’t know my secret dreams of winning all the basketballs. Putting all the balls in all the baskets.”
“…that’s…not how it works…”
“Oh yeah, how does it work?”
“…Space Jam?”
We are not Sports People.)

Unsurprisingly, perhaps, this is not the way I see it. (I suppose if I did, it would be easy to say “well, maybe I should just stop being so hard on myself then!” and do it.) I feel like I have very realistic expectations of myself. I am not particularly critical of my own skills at drawing or painting, for example. I don’t think that I am particularly good, but I don’t think that I need to be, either. Or the aforementioned basketball: I am not super-critical of myself there because I don’t think I need to be an excellent basketball player, nor have I put any effort into becoming one.

It’s things that I do think are important that I don’t think I am very good at because I know I could be better, or that I’ve tried to be better. Many people have told me – and I have read all the advice anyone else has, too – that berating myself over my faults or failings isn’t going to help me be better at the things I want to be better at. That accepting oneself is the way to progress. To me that’s always felt like giving up and allowing myself off the hook.

But to be honest, my way hasn’t worked so well either.

life with muse and maestro

oh don’t you cry for me

This morning, Maestro woke me up by standing next to the bed & serenading me with the banjo. (He’s barely started to learn to play the banjo! He bought it a while ago, but his first banjo student ended up quitting and he only just got his second this week…)

Anyway, so instead of getting up, I rolled myself up in the comforter like a burrito and enjoyed a song about how I needed to get up and go to work.

I did eventually get up to give him a round of applause, but now I have “O, Susanna” stuck in my head, even though that’s not what he played.