Late artist Sam Francis’ Structure, Number 2 reminds me of when a child draws on the walls. This is not a comment in poor taste, or a backhanded insult, but instead genuine admiration for the artwork.  As frustrating as Crayola markers across fresh white paint is for parents, it is the purest form of freedom and expression that exists. I was attracted to Francis’s work for this reason: its unabashed fluidity and chaos. Sprawled over an off-white canvas are sporadic and inconsistent lines. Some are even dripping down as if Francis just let the paint find its way down autonomously, most prominently the two orange drizzles that take up half the painting. Besides these drizzles, however, the majority of the painting is confined to the center of the paper. One massive cluster resides on the left where a jagged red line leads to a relatively smaller cluster. Clinging to the right-hand side of the paper is the smallest cluster, connected to the chain of masses by an equally jagged yellow line. The colors in this painting are its most communicative aspect. Despite the overall image of the artwork radiating dysfunction, the colors emphasize a certain kind of balanced vivacity. Eye-catching colors like red, yellow, and orange dominate the canvas, while a lilac in the largest cluster sticks out to me as the focus point of the entire work. Navy-blue bleeds through all of the majority of these colors and a bold black etches out a small portion of the paper as well. All factors considered, Structure, Number 2 emulates a temper tantrum. The colorful strokes are loud and choppy like incoherent fits of anger, while the warm colors express the human brain on high alert. The colors are visually explosive and messy like the emotions a person goes through when having a breakdown. While temper tantrums overall are projections of fury, they are comprised of much more. The invasiveness of the dark blue and black within the confines of the livelier colors illustrate the waves of sadness and cynicism, respectively, that seem to take over feelings of rage. It shows the viewer that any display of aggression is the result of a deeper, darker depression inside. From the same vain, the lilac represents the fragility that one protects with harder exteriors like anger and apathy. The two orange drizzles represent the pain that lingers on well after an outburst. With Structure, Number 2, Sam Francis elicits undeniable awareness and energy from the viewer as he illustrates the chaos that occurs at the height of mental distress.

2017’s Oscar award-winning film Call Me by Your Name directed by Luca Guadagnino captivated theaters with its humanized portrayal of the bittersweet magic that pulsates through coming-of-age and the-one-who-got-away. This movie adaptation of the Andre Aciman novel is at the very least a timeless love story, and at the most a universal, lgbt-inclusive tale of the beauty and pain that comes from the human condition. Somewhere in the grey area, there is a deeply personal, unadulterated representation of myself. From the cinematography to the dialogue, character studies to the soundtrack—Call Me by Your Name exhibits me in living color.

Set in 1980s Italy, Call Me by Your Name recounts the summer a once-in-a-lifetime romance between seventeen-year-old Elio Perlman and his father’s handsome houseguest Oliver blossoms. Much can be said about this movie and its intricacy, but the general gist is a slow burn development between the boys, then a cosmic collision of intimacy, and finally a heartbreaking separation at a train station where the summer ends, Oliver leaves, and marries a woman.

Guadagnino directed his shots carefully in ways to perfectly express the feelings of melancholy, nostalgia, beauty and love that exude from the screen. Most notably is Oliver’s billowy (as Elio describes) blue shirt. He wears it the first day he arrives to the Perlman’s cliffside mansion which Elio points out to him once their romance unfurls. Oliver leaves the shirt for him at Elio’s request, cementing its symbolism as blissful memories we carry with us for the rainy days of life.

Italian history and culture is also a very important detail that tells the story with a special kind of authenticity. During the scene Elio discreetly tells Oliver he is interested in him, there stands a massive World War I statue in between the two. The physical space between them as well as the historical context of the war paints the picture of a world trying to keep them on opposing sides. Aesthetics are expressed through scenic Italy and Mr. Perlman’s archeological discoveries of Hellenistic male sculptures, while ambiance is reverbed with the heavy involvement of music throughout the film. Mr. Pearlman’s monologue to Elio at the end of the film where he consoles (and accepts) his son adds another layer of the evident truthfulness and vulnerability as he expresses: “We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything—what a waste!”   It comes together like a Monet painting—an absolute masterpiece.

After watching the film so many times, I have come to find that I am structured much like it on some weird, metaphysical level. I embody Oliver’s struggle to be himself and his tiring effort to play the part for the comfort of others. He attempts to overcompensate his anxiety by acting cool, calm, and collected even though he is dying on the inside. Elio’s insecurities, particularly shown when he grimaces at himself in the mirror, reflect my perpetual battle with self-loathing. Feelings of displacement and fears of the unknown haunt me. The dark undertones of the film are not the only undertones I identify with, however. The films atmosphere of curiosity and self-discovery illuminate my hunger for knowledge and my ambition for growth. Elio is at the edge of seventeen. Even though I am not seventeen anymore, I still feel like I am at a similar place where I am seeking out the deeper meaning of both life and death while also trying to find my place amidst it all. Elio’s love for transcribing music and reading books speaks to my creativity and love for the arts. The film’s emphasis on the aesthetics of man, nature, and fashion speak about my appreciation of beauty. Perhaps the largest parallel the film offers to myself is its visual process of feeling. I am quite literally going through this process right now, although I know I am definitely not the only person. In Mr. Perlman’s monologue to Elio, he reminds his son that he needs to allow himself to grieve and go through his heartbreak; numbing himself out would prevent himself from going through happiness as well. That is what I must do. It is what we all must do. It is the human condition. I have to allow myself to feel because that is what makes us all the most human and experience the most out of life.

 Call Me by Your Name explores the themes of openness, sexuality, beauty, opportunities and the finiteness of time. Simply put, it is a film that reminds us all to live out our most authentic and happiest lives. I resonate immensely with the over-arching message of the work, primarily because I have struggled so long being honest with myself. Seeing both the cons of pretending and the pros of calling myself by my own name I know what is worth it. I am gay. I am a sister, daughter, friend. I am a poet. I am an accumulation of my memories, my responses, and my self-expression.