Toronto to Montreal - Day Sixty Four

i watched the sun rise this morning on a train back to MONTREAL. as a spread of light started to awaken the ONTARIO countryside, i started to cry.

i'm coming home.

i finally get to lay in my bed and wake up to the woman i love. the woman who loves me. i've been holding onto so much inside, trying to stay strong, trying not to crack so that i can maintain an emotionally balanced disposition. but in this moment i just think about the light and the beauty of light and how it envelopes darkness.

this journey has been hard.
really hard.
i leave this blog here... for now. although the last few entries weren't filled with as much excitement as the beginning, its been a pleasure sharing this trip with you.

con mucho amor,
carlo

Finish Line - Day Fifty Nine

as i promised my people in montreal... i would be gone for two months... sixty days have past and i live this saturday, back to toronto.
i feel like i'm running on empty.
i am getting to the point where - this is all i can take - this time that i spending with my insane parents. as individuals i love them dearly but as a pair i start to come back to childhood fantasies where i would pray to my priest; "please mom and da - get a divorce! please stop fighting over the stupidest things like time and being on time every time we leave the house." the problem mostly is how they deal with each other. my father loses his mind like a complete lunatic, which he almost never does on camera cause he is aware how much of a fucking nutter he is when he gets like that. my mother in mean time doesn't even stop him from this and continues to talk about weather.

really, this entry is just a huge bitch fest of how insane my parents are.

today i went to visit my grandmother and say goodbye. she is my only grandparent left and to be frank - i really don't have anything in common with her. she morns and respects a man who treated her horribly because she thought very poorly of herself. she produced ten children, some of whom are good and some great people. but today i got to meet my grandmother's sister who, for the first time, i engaged in great conversation with someone on my grandmother's side where the talk didn't end in something like "god bless PINOCHET!" this women asked such great questions about film making and was genuinely interested in what i was doing in CHILE and listened to what i have to say. it was nice to see critical thought at my grandmother's dinner table.

when i arrive in toronto on the 31st we start preparing for one of the final shoots - my father's testing at BAYCREST... almost there.

The Farm - Day Fifty Seven

when my father was 9 years old his SCOTTISH private school, located in VINA DEL MAR, took his class north of the coastal town to a quaint farming community called PUCHUNCAVI. when they arrived the students found that the farm belonged to the father of one of the their classmates everyone called "fatty" - who was also great friends with my grandfather. just after their arrival the caretaker of the farm slaughtered a large cow for the entire class to eat that weekend. rumor has it that one of the chaperons, which was the sister of another classmate they called "the rat" - cause he physically looked like a rat, had sex with the head master on that same trip. as the boys settled everyone spoke grateful for the opportunity to be away from the red-face SCOTTISH priests which never failed to cane at least one student daily. after a weekend of horse riding, large juice dripping steaks and giggles to "the rat's" sister - my swore to return with my grandfather. and they did - many times over with "fatty's" family.
it is also this town that my father has, in the past four years, fallen back in love with. yesterday after filming B ROLL around the MENA FAMILY farm (where my father keeps his horses) my father and i were riding back and he told me this story. to fully understand my father's relationship with the MENA FAMILY is something that has to be seen rather then heard. i am hoping that when the MENA FAMILY is introduced in the documentary that the film captures what these people represent to my father.
as he told me this story i couldn't help be almost in tears as a listener and son. whether he knows it or not - my father has found his youth and love for the country with these people. while in CANADA i would always say that it was horses... but its not just the horses, its this family that gave my father life again. and for that, i am eternally grateful to them. besides the fact that i too have fallen in love with them, they are very kind and beautiful people.

the MENA FAMILY are beautiful people.

The Dinner - Day Fifty Three

about two weeks ago, just after we finished shooting, i was enjoying a lovely breakfast with my parents. they suddenly started to argue about a dinner my mother wanted to have. it went something like "i want to have my girlfriends from school over saturday, janauary 23rd! why do you have to be like that?" my father grumbled to himself and spat something like “you’re always stressed out and you never enjoy yourself!” my mother retorts “that’s not true! i always have fun.” for some reason, the conversation went into my father joking "okay, well then the week after that i'm going to have the HUASOS over for dinner..." my mom didn't find that very funny. my mother has a very particular reservation about the HUASOS but mostly she can't stand how much they drink and rowdy they get. she would die if she had to be around this for a whole evening, especially in her own home. my father knows this well and it is why, at this point, he had a huge smile on his face. as my mother fumed from my father’s delight. “CUCHI! (that’s what she calls him) i’m going to hit you!”
my father continued to laugh.
as off topic as i am getting now, this is how ridiculous their argument was. i finally interjected saying "how about this mom... you invite all your girlfriends with their husbands and TIO JAVIER (my father's only friend - who is also my mother's brother) and i will cook the entire dinner. you won't have to do anything but just sit, eat and enjoy your time with your old schoolmates!"
everyone went silent.
then after a few moments my mother finally spoke up "okay. yeah, thank you carlo. that sounds like a good idea." my dad liked it too. so in my head, based on the limited but VERY fresh ingredients CHILE has to offer, i put together a five course menu that reflected our families CHILEAN/ITALIAN background.

THE PREPARATION

because most italian cooking is all preparation and time with few but necessarily fresh ingredients, i knew that cooking 2/3 of the food the day before was essential.
yesterday morning my mother, father and i went to my dad's old neighborhood where there's a really beautiful market. as we shopped for all the ingredients, my father had the idea of buying some lemons and getting a variety of fresh sea food to slurp on the spot. it was one of the best gastronomical moments i've ever had with my father. he came back with some raw CLAMS, SCALPS and SEA URCHINS... we got to work... once our bellies were fully loaded with love from the ocean, we continued zig-zagging throughout the busy market to get the essentials.

sidebar: i can't tell you how fresh the basil is here in CHILE. the bushels are bursting with flower buds. the most overwhelmingly fragrant basil plant i have ever cooked with. i start to get faint with excitement just thinking about it.

once we finally got all of the ingredients in the kitchen, it was 4pm.
i started cooking.
it was at this time which most parts of the dishes were either cooked and/or assembled. i went hard for almost eight hours straight with stopping, ending at 11:30pm to get some sleep. the next day i woke up at 9:00am and continued cooking till 2:30pm when the 12 guests arrived. once the last couple arrived, i started pumping out the dishes out, getting everything out on time. it was so great to get in the grind again. i miss cooking for large groups and most often then not, it makes me feel human again. there's a certain level of intensity and concentration that you have to practice when you're serving a five course meal to 12 people alone... but all the food came out warm, tasty and well presented.

i was very happy with the results.

1st ENTREE - STRAWBERRY VINAIGRETTE
w/ SPANISH BLUE CHEESE & ROASTED WALNUTS

with this dish i wanted to use CHRIMOYAS (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cherimoya) instead of strawberries but they weren't in season. this a very particular fruit to the region and when it's in season people go absolutely mental. if a mango and delicious ripe juice-dripping pear had a baby, you would have the CHERIMOYA. instead i went with classic CHILEAN strawberries, which seem to always be in season here. it was my goal to introduce ingredients that these people have have either never tried before or regularly wouldn't use in these dishes, but that are also local to the region. blue cheese is something that isn't of the region and not very easy to find. when you do, its often expensive or bad quality. i had to go to the supermarket. one of the questions that the guests kept asking was how i made the strawberry vinaigrette - "i cooked the strawberries slowly for two hours in AGAVE NECTER and LEMON. i then cooled and put them the in fridge over night. by the next day a beautiful sweet but tart syrup formed. with that strawberry syrup as a base, i added grape seed oil, apple vinegar and salt."

2nd ENTREE - EGGPLANT PARMESAN

for the past eight years (the last time i made this dish) my mother has ranted and raved to people about my EGGPLANT PARMASEAN. i like it but i think she likes it more. it was at VIA OLIVETTO (where i learned how to cook) that i got the recipe for this dish. today was possibly the four or fifth time that i cooked the dish outside of a restaurant because it is so labor intensive. i will not make this dish unless every single ingredient is of absolute quality. after a few hours of searching in the market, we finally found a parmesan that i was happy with.

3nd ENTREE - OSOBUCO BUTTON MUSHROOM RISOTTO
w/ ROSMARY WHITE WINE SPINACH

this was my favourite dish of the day. at the market i found these wonderful OSOBUCO bones and slowly cooked them in wild onions and coriander steams for almost six hours. it was hands down the best beef stalk that i have ever made. my mouth starts to water just thinking of that wonderfully pungent beef flavor. when the risotto melts in your mouth from the cream, butter and fresh parmesan the rice felt like it had a god-like aura of beef marrow goodness around it. i garnished it with a spinach cooked in garlic, white wine, rosemary and butter.

MAIN COURSE - WILD CHILEAN SEA BASS
w/ MARBLE BUTTERNUT SQUASH & POTATOES MASH

this is probably the first time that i've had the chance to cook with real CHILEAN sea bass. the fish was poached in garlic, grape seed mayonnaise, lime, sea salt and fresh coriander. two mashes were made separately (squash and potato) and then folded to make a marble.
the guests went nuts over this one.

DESSERT - AVOCADO COCONUT AGAVE NECTAR
CHOCOLATE MOOSE w/ STEAMED STRAWBERRIES

green gold!
what makes this one special is that we are in the land of the PALTA (avocado). the ones that i used for this particular dish were hand picked from my grandmother's backyard two weeks ago. all i can say is, like the INDIAN MANGO or IRANIAN FIG, these avocados don't compare to anything that exists in NORTH AMERICA.
with this dish i have to give a !BIG-UPS! to my sugar-less-dessert-home-girl JESSE THE YOGA INSTRUCTOR. i heard about this dish from the love of my life when she had it at JESSIE's house one night. the idea sounded amazing and i tried to make, it with success. this was the second time i attempted the dish and the ladies lost their shit.

THE MEN

i love cooking for men. they just eat. almost no conversation.
all focus.
all the time.

after everything was accounted for and i finished the kitchen, i came out to answer all the questions that were flying through the door while i served the five courses. my parent's were so proud of me. i think that my father, which he rarely does, congratulated me and said he was proud of me about four different times throughout the day. he loves my mother so much and must have been so happy that i could do something like this for her.

THE EXPLANATION


MY VERY HAPPY AND BEAUTIFUL MUM

and here she is... the lady of the hour.
during the two days that i cooked, she would come into the kitchen in a high pitch voice “how is my little chef!” i loved it every time she did it. i should go to church with them tomorrow and win "son of the year".

Cynical / Cinico - Day Fifty One

when i was kid, my father and i would get into these long drawn out discussions of exactly what certain words meant, its definition, but more importantly, which one was more correct in ENGLISH or SPANISH. the word wars would at times reach a point where we'd be on the opposite ends of the spectrum, spitting things like "well! then it's probably wrong in SPANISH!" or vice-versa. can you imagine someone telling you that the word you've been using all your life was wrong because of another language's interpretation. it's by no coincide that this argument has been a sort of metaphor or sub-text for most of our fights.

the core of all these spats have always been based on interpretation.

this morning i had a word discovery based on these arguments while my mother and i looked up the translation for BRASS in a SPANISH CHILEAN dictionary. my curiosity on the interpretation of the word BRASS is based on its use in both language.

but the real word of the day is: CYNICAL / CINICO

what is also very appropriate about this is that both my father and i have been often accused of being cynical because of how critical we are. so when i was a kid and someone would call my father cynical in ENGLISH (CINICO in SPANISH), my father would have an internal up rise because of his interpretation of the word. he would get incredibly offended and roar with denial until whoever was calling him the word would back down. one of those people was of course me... and i am never one to back down from an argument.
!especially! at that age of 13.

so, while roaming through the dictionary for BRASS, i decided to look up CYNICAL in both languages with this CHILEAN-SPANISH dictionary.

result?

what if i was to tell you that my father's interpretation of the word is the result of how that word is used in ENGLISH? for example... if i say "all television is garbage!" then i would be cynical for saying that. the definition would describe me as "doubtful, distrustful, suspicious, disbelieving" but here in CHILE people often say that cynical is "someone who contradicts themselves by their actions, for examples; a promise they've made." for example if someone was to say "HEY TOM! nice to see you... lets have coffee soon!" now if that guy had a reputation of doing that and never calling, here in CHILE, your thoughts would be "that guy is so cynical, he's so full of shit!" something my father would say goes something like this: "ese huavon es mas CINCIO que la cresta!" so in this case, the person that was being "doubtful, distrustful, suspicious, disbelieving" is not the accuser but the person being accused.

after all of this, i mention this discovery to my very good friend EVAN CLARKE. after a lengthy discussion on the topic, he tells me that we were both right.

---

EVAN: One way to think of it is like this: you can be cynical in your actions; or you can be cynical in your perception of other people's actions."

CARLO: you're right. you know what, honestly? i think when i was kid it had to do with my perception of my father. the way my father used it was with a country/working class tone. growing up, i always saw my father that way... not in a bad way but because of the way he expressed himself in both languages. i think that one of the reasons, possibly sub-consciously, i disagreed with him so strongly was because i was trying to assimulate and distance myself from his approach. having said that, i also thought that the word cynical was something of a positive thing to be called because it mean't you were critical.

EVAN: like something to be proud of?

CARLO: exactly. like how we saw music.

EVAN: yeah, i was really confused about it for a long time.
i see, like 'critical' or something.

CARLO: exactly

EVAN: like being cynical was something to be proud of. i guess that most people don't really think of cynicism as a reason for pride?

CARLO: i guess it was more the context and how people use it in CHILE. when he would say that word i would always cringe thinking about badly he misused it.
it so insane that i am discovering this now.

EVAN: it's not. it's understandable, given that you have two linguistic contexts to deal with. there's tons of words that i don't use in ENGLISH because i'm not crystal clear on their meaning.

---

what i realized in the end was that ENGLISH puts more weight on the person criticizing as the CINIC and in CHILE people put more weight on the person being accused. in the end they both mean the same thing.



i can't believe it this whole time... we were both right.

Hiccups - Day Fifty

I've had them for three days now.
Kill me.

The Emotions of Logging - Day Forty NIne

the most frustrating process for me as a filmmaker is logging my footage. although i have to do it, i try to avoid it like blood sausages or cows liver. it is such a roller-coaster of emotions watching what can't be changed. i scream, cheer, but mostly scream, at things that could have been done better. i obsess over detail and small inconsequential things that can either be fixed with tricks in post or re-shot at another time.

by nature, although i have changed quite a bit throughout the years, i am an over controlling perfectionist, who settles for nothing less then "the best." it is a internal battle that i constantly wrestle with... almost on a daily basis. especially when i am doing this kind of work.

there are times when i am editing or logging where i do truly feel like a lunatic. i get in this state even if, in the back of my mind, i know that i have more then enough footage to make a good film. in the moment, while im looking at the rushes for the first time, i get so inside my head that i can barely bring myself back to a sane place. i pace, smack my fist - trying to inflict some kind of short sting in the palm my hand to redirect what's going in my head to another part of my body. rarely, but it has happened, i get to a fever pitch and fantasize about putting my fist through a wall. there have been about three or four occasions where i have done it. lets forget my fridge at home. that has about a dozen dents in it because of this state.

i've never cut myself or done any kind of self-mutilation. i faint sometimes at the sight of my own blood. i don't like that kind of pain. my sensitivity can reach such peeks that i have fallen to the grown, at times, when nurses have taken samples of blood from my arm.

none of that "blood is the life" activity for me. it has never even entered my train of thought... but i understand it. i get why people do it and why it is connected so closely to raw emotion.

when you're feeling a heighten emotion all you want is an immediate release. the most common advice is "why don't you write your emotions down" - as i am doing right now. the problem with this advice is that not everyone knows how to communicate how they're feeling, in the written or verbal form. most people don't have the tools to redirect that raw emotion to a safe and healthy place. that's why some people, for example; drink, do drugs, smoke or abuse other people. these are all products of that same device. an outlet to redirect raw energy.
may it joy, anger or sadness.

so what do i do today but continue to pace, play my guitar aggressively and now, go to the gym. the stress that goes with being the director, producer and subject in your own documentary is one thing. watching this footage with patience and trying to take notes is a completely different beast, which often has me turning into one.