Posts Tagged: feast of love


There comes a time in life, probably a few times actually, when you simply can’t ignore the signs and just have to go with it.

Feast of Love is a movie picked completely at random on December 30, 2011. It would then instantly become the movie I’d aim to watch every single day of 2012 and thus spawned FEAST OF DAN - a name of this blog and the subsequent movie game-show that took almost no effort to come up with. The storyline revolves around the almost endless kinds of love that are available to us, most of which I’ve experienced this year. Finally, among many other things that prove how beautifully natural it was for Feast of Love to become the movie I’d enter into a full-time relationship with this year, Greene Street Films produce it - and for the majority of this year I lived on Green Street. 

In my personal life I’ve recently discovered just how important it is to live a life based on feeling and gut instincts. A life where if it feels right, you should do it. So now that I look back, it seems that Feast of Love and I are a perfect example of this - an idea and experience that has been so natural and effortless.

No matter how fucked up.


True love. 

It’ll take: time












and so much, much more…

I hope you have all this. 


If at first you don’t succeed, pick yourself up and try again.

Indeed this is sage advice for life in general and a dope lyric (rest in peace Aaliyah), but could this mantra also apply to love?

Hell yes it can. And if you don’t believe that, you don’t believe in love.



Thank freak this little gem occurred to me while vacuuming today, otherwise what a tremendous waste of time it would’ve been.

Today I cleaned my new apartment after successfully putting off buying a vacuum cleaner for a good month and a half. While proving to be a pretty good workout, physically and mentally, what occurred to me was how comparable life and vacuuming can be. Faced with the task of cleaning a whole apartment/house/Brighton villa, you’ll take a look at all that lies ahead and will be understandably overwhelmed. Yet once you stomp on the power button and get sucking, before you know it, all you have left to do is look back on the cleanliness you’ve just achieved. 

When facing great challenges in life or vacuuming or both, the more you suck, the more you get done. 

Now, in a vain attempt to relate this all back to Feast of Love, I guess this theory could be applied to Greg Kinnear and his uphill battle getting his life back together post-Selma Blair AND Radha Mitchell divorce. 

If not, I’ve just made it so. 



This morning I had some blood (mine) taken out (by a doctor) and it occured to me that happiness, as a feeling, is overrated.

This probably sounds worse than it is, though I’m on to something.

When you’re flat, depressed, moody, in a funk or just simply can’t figure out why that one strand of hair on your head refuses to be tamed; you feel. This morning as I laid on that butcher paper worrying that, if due to the breakfast I didn’t have, whether or not I’d react negatively to a needle in my arm, I thought how beautiful it is to feel.

Whether it be for positive or negative reasons, it’s when you feel that you realise you’re alive.

And what’s better than that? 


In no way do I think people underestimate the power of music. I do think however that they undervalue it’s timing

Music is quite simply the soundtrack of your life. If I ever want to feel like 12 year old Dan again, I’ll cue up Limp Bizkit’s “3 Dollar Bill, Ya’ll” and watch the memories come rollin’ back. It’s interesting to think what I’m currently listening to will one day become a pinpoint of this time in my life, and how I feel, what I think and where I am. I’d like to think that in 20 years time I’ll hear a Childish Gambino track and instantly remember where I was in 2012. Though more likely, in 20 years time I’ll be in a cafe of the future when some silly song from Feast of Love that’s since been etched in my brain comes on, and all I can think of is this ridiculous waste of time I undertook. In any event, timing. The power of music can be heightened, by timing. 

Think about your commute to work, and your subsequent mood for the day. Some mornings call for Dean Martin and some Machine Head, though whatever the craving, it’s recommended you feed it. While on the tram one morning you just know Fleetwood Mac would really do the trick. So that moment you picture your headphones laying stranded on the kitchen bench suddenly becomes somewhat of a tipping point for the day. Coffee, at this point, can only do so much. All of Friday the office raved about the expected rowdiness which would follow after work drinks. Then around 4:30pm Triple J reveal a few tracks from the new Joanna Newsom record and suddenly the couch, a DVD and a home cooked meal start looking pretty good. Following a nasty break-up, music can do wonders to improve not only your day-to-day, but your outlook on the future. Wake up in the morning to some “volume 11” Led Zep and you’ll be okay. Accidentally hit shuffle and follow it with Beck’s “Sea Change” and all you’ll want is to fall back asleep.


Music is a powerful tool. Be careful how you use it. 


The idea that change is as good as a holiday, is bullshit.

I’ve never bounced from one job to another feeling as if, just days earlier, I was laying on a beach in the Caribbean sippin’ on Mai Tai’s. Yet, one thing change can guarantee, is a new start.

As much as I’m prone to kick the guy when he’s down, Greg Kinnear’s on to something when he moves house post-Selma Blair divorce. Here’s a guy who’s lost two great loves, one of which was a dog, all out of his control. In this case, change is just as good as a holiday, though more like a holiday planned by a complete stranger full of nothing but horrible connecting flights and some Contiki bullshit. Not one to partake in jello shots in a Taiwanese dive bar, Kinnear figures he needs at least some control of his life back. With memories of his ex-wife lurking around every corner, Kinnear makes moves to change his housing situation and start again. At the time Kinnear has little idea how effective this decision will be, as the person enlisted to help him find a new home would go on to become his second ex-wife. 

Kinnear, while the momentum of change was upon him, took charge of at least some of it, and in the process, discovered a positive from a negative.

To forget the scene you’re in, change it.


No one ever thinks about the winners of divorce.

With divorce rates probably at their highest ever yes it’s fair to be worried about the “state of marriage”. Whilst thousands end up signing papers similar to ones they signed before their union broke down, so rarely do we think about those who are actually benefitting from this (apart from the husbands boom boom). Often, for every marriage which ends in a divorce there comes another marriage. So for all the wedding caterers, party DJ’s and limo drivers of the world, all this equals is return business and a healthy profit margin.

Do you, Dan, take this tuna sandwich spread to be disguised as hors d’oeuvres for your loved ones in the reception lounge?

I do.



Happiness is a state of mind(lessness). 

I discovered the key to happiness recently which is probably not even a big deal. Like all things in life, it’s stupidly simple and requires almost no effort whatsoever, relying only on what’s natural and just allowing it to take place. In fact, it’s so simple I can sum it up in three words:

Plan. Good. Things.

That’s it. Plan things in each of your days which will make you happy, energised, motivated, revitalised, inspired, caffeinated. Once you’ve done this, all that’s left is to simply live and let life do the work.

So, henceforth, this is how I’ll be living each of my days - bar 97 minutes for Feast of Love.


I don’t just like his films. I want to live in them.

This is how, to my great relief, I finally managed to concisely describe what it is I love so much about the films of Wes Anderson. Last night within the first 5 minutes of Moonrise Kingdom I already disliked it, due only to my great envy of those living in this wonderfully charming, warm and incredibly detailed world Anderson once again so effortlessly created. The greatest filmmakers allow the greatest escape for audiences, much like authors who provide a place made up only of words within which to lose yourself. I know I’ll never bed my own “sweet-lime” or smoke a cigarette on a New York City rooftop with Margot Tenenbaum, and as a result, I’m equally smitten and angry when I become lost in his movies, every. time.

Does anyone feel this way about Feast of Love?

More importantly, do I?!