My Favorite Things
A book, a film, a painting, and a song.
01: Book
Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
I love Tuesdays with Morrie because it feels like sitting down and having an honest conversation about life. The way Morrie talks about facing death, how he approaches it with both sadness and peace, makes me feel grounded but also unsettled—like I’m being asked to confront things I usually avoid. There is a moment in the book where Morrie talks about not being afraid of aging, how he sees it as a chance to keep learning, and that stuck with me. It’s my favorite book because it lets me feel the weight of real-life wisdom while reminding me of the beauty in small, everyday moments.
02: Film
Close directed by Lukas Dhont
Close is my favorite movie because the cinematography makes every frame feel like a delicate work of art. While watching it, you can feel the love the boys have for each other emanating off of the screen. Dhont creates a sense of intimacy that pulls the audience into the film. The cinematography is quiet and intimate, with soft, lingering shots that make you feel the bond between the boys.
03: Painting
Gathering Storm by Ivan Aivazovsky
I love paintings of water. Especially this one because of the way Aivazovsky manipulates the paint to look like the water is moving. The way Aivazovsky paints it, the water seems to be coming from the ground and the sky simultaneously. The water he paints is so turbulent and violent and so strong, strong enough to sink that huge boat and drown the men in the bottom right corner. It’s my favorite because I can feel the emotion of the ocean while also feeling the dread of the men drowning.
04: Song
"Family Tree" by Ethel Cain
Family Tree is my favorite song because it captures so much emotion in a way that feels real and raw. The way Cain’s voice shifts between softness and power gives the song an almost haunting quality, especially while she sings about the weight of her family and identities. The lyrics reflect a deep sense of longing as Cain tries to escape the past while still feeling connected to it.