小津的片子一部比一部意味悠长，《东京物语》和 《麦秋》再到《我长大了，但......》

我越来越近贴近了他的电影，思辩的东西他是摆出来了，然后再让人漫不经心地掠过它，或许摩擦出的火花很耀眼。终会灼人的眼吗

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如同我的标点符号一样，他的尾巴 或者说结尾都刻意而绵长


当然也是很老的随笔~~

——I was born, but…

Ozu’s movie I Was Born, But... is an undoubted hilarious silent comedy. But speaking of the dark side, Ozu mentioned in an interview:“I started to make a film about children and ended up with a film about grown-ups…”. Movie through a comparison of the hierarchies of the adult world and the hierarchies of the children's world presents both the humor of everyday life and the sad realities of life.
As David Bordwell said, “The film is built around the social use of power.” This film explores the ways the world works. For adults, the determiner is financial, and the social classes. For children, the determiner is physical strength, sparrow eggs, and their father. Ozu reveals us a harsh reality：Not only in the adult's world but also in the children word, that these principles underlie social hierarchies, and the social fabric are the systems in which we must compromise.
A common misreading by the Western audiences believed this movie is accused the hypocritical in the adult world. In the one hand, “Ozu demonstrates human encounters without judgment. Ouz’s observation of family life and its social decline are respectful.” On the other hands, in this movie, is hard to say children characters are pure innocent. They have their own priorities, different the grownups, children's simply measured by strength. They already live under the rules, just hadn’t understood the unjust hierarchical social customs of the real world yet. The boys define they have the best father during the kids’ arguments. But in the home movies, they saw a different light about their father. Who seem is not an important “somebody” they had worshiped, but as a “nobody” who has to fawn on Taro's father.
Paternal authority always is an important part in the Asian cultures. “Japanese father was the head of the traditional family system” Without this background, it maybe a little confused for the Western audience how the boys' shifting attitude towards their father. At first, he is an exemplary hero. After the home movies, he is an embarrassing fool. Also, their father realizes he was disappointing his sons. He was so despair, even want dependency on alcohol to numb his sorrow.
Frame is also an important method to narrative.“Ozu's objects are almost never divorced from narrative or thematic functions in his films.” An obvious symbol such as in this scene Ozu captures father’s sadness through the classic “tatami shot”. When father told mother he didn’t cozy up the boss because he enjoys it, audiences begin to empathies with his shame and panic. Is he hypocrisy? Maybe, but we couldn’t blame him.
“In most Ozu films the structure presumes this "return” and it is this which makes the final reels of these pictures so compelling.” Ozu reproduced a particular scene which the father and the boys walking together in the ending of the movie. They met Taro and father's boss; father struggled about whether or not to greet his boss, the younger brother said, “You’d better say good morning to him.” It’s a similar scene as the earlier at the beginning of the movie. But this time they establish a mutual understanding relationship.
The movie’s final scene is the most perfecting ending I can imagine. The brother admitted Taro’s father is better. Seem the conversation between father and sons made the boys realize what is the reality. In the children world, it takes more strength to accept your dad is better than my dad. After that, the boys began to “cast” on Taro. Everything seems same as before. They were grown up，but still preserving that childish aspect.
When I was watching I was born, but… I feel both of comedy and pathos. Is it comedy? Or, is it tragedy? It seems hard to simply definition. Just like Wim Wenders said, through Ozu’s movies we’ve been seeing all families in the whole word, we see our parents, our brothers and ourselves.

Reference
David Bordwell, Ozu and the Poetics of Cinema
Wim Wenders, Mary Zournaz, Inventing Peace: A Dialogue on Perception
M.E. Lamb, 2003, The role of the father in child development (4th Ed.)
Kathe Geist, Narrative Style in Ozu's Silent Films
Donald Richie, Yasujiro Ozu: The Syntax of His Films

小津的影片，结尾我总是最喜欢。
这部也不例外。
当两个小兄弟和爸爸在铁路闸口碰到爸爸的上司时，
主动让还在羞愧中的爸爸去向太郎的爸爸问安，
然后问太郎谁的爸爸厉害。
当太郎屈服于他们平时的淫威违心承认他们的爸爸厉害时，
小兄弟主动承认太郎的爸爸厉害。

然后他们继续对太郎施咒语，让他躺下，
又故意不叫他起来。
温顺的太郎自己爬起来，小伙伴和好如初。

这世界本来就是这样，
你拳头比我硬，我拆九连环可以战胜你；
我拳头比你硬，要去你家看电影也得用鸟蛋交换。
成人世界里通行的标准是货币和武力，
孩童的世界里通行的是武力和鸟蛋，
货币要靠工作和关系赢得，
鸟蛋也要靠爬树和交换攫取，
本质并没有不同。

小孩子因为父亲对比自己弱小者的父亲点头哈腰而伤了自尊，
父亲辛苦营造的伟岸形象崩溃在＂他只会对我们逞威风＂的指责里。
然后，当小孩长大了就会明白，
用点头哈腰交换一些自己需要的东西，没有什么可以指责的，
因为也只是交换而已。
上司需要点头哈腰者的肯定，一如点头哈腰者需要货币的支援，
大家各取所需而已。

这世界本不需要倔强，小孩子的倔强也会变圆融，
然后，这就是成长。

家庭是小津安二郎永远的议题，我们总能在他的影片中的传统日式家庭窥见社会的缩影。与后期导演平淡克制的美学追求相异，其早期影片《我出生了，但》以更轻松诙谐的笔调去讲述父与子各自身陷权力游戏的故事。

从影片故事本身出发，它围绕小职员的家庭生活展开，颇有意思的一点便是其中的权力架构。片子大体可划分为两线，分别呈现了存在于大郎、次郎视角的孩童世界和以吉井为代表的成人世界这两种社会景观。如此两种形式既是递进关系也是并列关系，且两景观相形相成，互施影响，由此混沌成大观世界。

文学评论家哈罗德·布鲁姆指出：世界只会变老，不会变得更好或更坏。他强调现代人的生活只是对前人的模仿，社会权力建构恒有之，我们无力改变。对于这一论调，小津安二郎在片中似乎给出了肯定的态度。从影片得出，权力建构不外乎有年龄、暴力、金钱三个主要因素。每一权力层级会从幼年到成年逐渐成熟，在取缔上一层级的同时也自我更新换代，生生不息，社会权力的实质从未改变。

在开篇导演便用卖米酒的青年引出第一个权力建构因素：年龄。

青年的年龄处于成人与孩童之间，也为这两种景观的过渡阶段做了诠释。对下一年龄层次的次郎，青年用暴力威胁加上言语哄骗达到目的，对于上一年龄层次的吉井妻子，青年用社交礼仪来客套。青年对次郎与吉井妻子对青年的年龄差是压倒性的，所以在面临跨层级的权力压迫，人们大多会选择直接顺从，甚至谄媚以换来好处。在这一阶段，青年已经了解成人世界通行的法则，而其成为掌权者的机会也逐渐缩小，新生的层级日渐衰弱。或许是导演无意之举，卖米酒的青年与小团体领头者在形貌穿着上却是最相似，而从耀武扬威的少年到懂得低头赚好处的青年，也提醒观者把这一两个特殊人物的变化普世化。

随后导演用次郎受当地已成型小团体的行为欺压引出第二个权力建构因素：暴力。

当然人在面对同层级的威胁时，第一反应是反击而不是忍受，即在次郎受欺后立即寻找体格更强壮的大郎帮助。影片把施行暴力的能力与男孩们的体型挂勾，让观众从视觉上直观地便能把小团体中的等级划分清楚。此时幼龄世界的权力层级是不成熟的，所以也是最易更新迭代的，处于这一阶段的孩子们是清醒者，他们代表刚苏醒的世界。这一点在影片后半部分也得以再次得证，次郎通过给青年提供卖酒机会向上一权力层级示好，并借力打压同年龄团体的领导者，从而取代其地位成为小团体新一任领导者，权力在内部成功完成更新和转移，这一种迭代是常有的。

而在职员吉井的成人世界，金钱占据了权力建构的绝大部分。

吉井为了得到上司岩崎的青睐特地举家搬到郊区，他可以为了调和公司氛围在录像时扮丑角，卓别林似的表演背后是对金钱的屈服。成人世界是死去的世界，权力的转移机率几乎不存在，就像吉井可以通过讨好上司得到更高的薪水但很难成为给人发薪的人。这里的掌权者只会更强，由此加深日本社会的阶级固化，随后到这一阶段的社会便会死亡，下一层级的青年世界会取而代之。青年拒绝帮次郎教训岩崎儿子，因为在岩崎家能赚的钱更多便印证了这一点：即使还未进入成年世界，青年显然已经知道了那里的通行证，并在言行身教中将这种观念传给了孩童世界，催熟了下一权力层级。

我们倒也不必借不根据金钱数量衡量地位来美化孩童世界，正因为没有金钱的概念，所以鸟蛋充当了货币的职责，它是权力强大的象征，也是通行证。本质上儿童与成人对权力的需要是没有变化的。孩童、青年、成人这三个层级恰好符合安德烈斯·巴尔瓦在《光明共和国》中所写：它们挨在一起，复制着同样的权力永动机制。

回到电影拍摄内容上，它把人的劣性具像化并强迫我去直视，这是它难以吸引我的原因。

即使人性本恶用来形容片中的孩子们似乎是过于苛责，我仍然选择使用这个词。大郎、二郎在借助青年力量成为小团体新一任领头人后，他们自然地沿用了之前命令人倒下的手势，尽管不了解手势的实际意义，但从受用者到实施者仅需要简单的观察，很难说不是与生俱来的征服欲使然。这一命令手势与基督教的祈祷手势十分相似，而一个发号施令，一个祈求宽恕，不禁让人感到讽刺。我们不难推测这是以前小孩模仿大人的产物，小孩成长后离开这一世界，但这一权力象征的手势却流传了下来。有人会推说这是小孩的玩乐游戏，却不愿承认强权崇拜才是自己的天性：孩子们是生来便知晓这年龄层级的妙用的，像大郎回击小团体失败后便向父亲吉井这一成年人层级寻求庇护，不需要吉井作出其余动作他们就能成功逃脱。事实上就算作为孩子我们也能制造光明，也能催生野蛮和恐惧。

再者，片中人物动作设计体现出的性意味情结让人不适。导演试图借助大郎、次郎心有灵犀的动作以及次郎对大郎的盲从模仿制造笑点，但刻意刻画的喜剧形象却让人很难产生共鸣，人物动作的刻意设计是否为必要也值得商榷。为体现真实而生活化不意味着要低俗化，跟性有关动作确实是一部分电影的笑料来源，不过次郎抚摸下体的动作我却很难把它归结到童真童趣一类里，更多的是快速略过，尴尬不已。或许是性别差异导致的认同感不强，也或许是习惯于小津后期沉稳平静娓娓道来的风格，相对来说喜剧却不是他的擅长，这部影片明显后劲不足，看过则过。就单从喜剧效果来说也是稍显逊色，甚至让人难以认同此影片定位是剧情喜剧。

电影的尾声处借孩童之口发问：钱多，所以伟大？在成人世界中的吉井给出模棱两可的答案，而孩童世界的大郎、次郎用质问予以否认，两线归聚到一点上。小津给了影片一个温情结局，让大郎、次郎和岩崎互相承认对方的父亲伟大，让吉井见到上司后没有上前问好表现他在做臣服于否的挣扎，也让大郎主动提出让父亲去给上司问好。然而孩子们互相肯定对方父亲后命令手势依然存在，然而大郎的提议也显示他开始遵守承成人世界的法则，他的孩童世界正在死去。回扣片名，我出生了，但如何呢，世界仍然反复死去又苏醒，权力贯穿始终，为着一个既定结局，我们奔劳一生。对于影片结尾的问题，世俗世界的我们都知道真正答案。

小津安二郎拍过很多默片，他经历过电影由默片到有声片再到彩色片这样一个过渡，这对电影人来说是难能可贵的。技术的发展，电影呈现的形式有了巨大转变，但小津的主题并没有更改，他坚持了一贯的亲情描述，以及这种描述下对世态的哀伤。
《我出生了，但……》算是小津默片中的代表作，至于这个片名，初次遇见是有些奇怪，但据说是当时的流行句式，这与他前期另两部默片的片名相似，一次是我毕业了，一次是我落第了，看来可以构成三部曲。从出生到落第，再到毕业，这是当时日本孩子的普遍成长模式，当然它的适用性可以扩大，想想如今的中国孩子，不也是一样吗？
出生嫌父贫，落第自逍遥，毕业即失业。很遗憾前两部作品仅剩残本，但小津想表达的思想还在。学生时代也许很苦，学校也就像围城，但脱离了学生时代之后，你会发现生活更苦，学生的责任是单纯的，就是为了读书，你可以跟一帮死党随心所欲，不管怎样，背后有父母撑着。当你毕业了，你的责任有了延伸，你需要面对生活的压力，如何去寻找一份适当的工作，成了人生最大的命题。毕业后的生活不顺，促使你想要回到从前，回到一出生的时候，回到童年。
孩子的世界是天真的，他们会把鸟蛋当作宝贝，他们会把一分钱交给警察叔叔，他们会争论斑马是白底黑纹还是黑底白纹，他们的想法尤其简单，在他们眼里，事物除了大，就只能是小，不存在中间状态，也不存在平等。
吉井一家搬到了郊外的新居，在那里，弟弟一来就被欺负，地头蛇夺了他的玩具和面包。这在孩子中比较常见，为了给新来的一个下马威。孩子帮的头头是个矿工的儿子，家里比较穷，但长得五大三粗，这形成了当大佬的优势。弟弟叫来哥哥撑腰，但势单力薄，仍旧没能占到便宜。两兄弟自然不服气，但对方确实比他们强大，于是有些胆怯，所以连上学都不敢去了。
孩子都是好胜的，他们在家里没受过委屈，在外边绝受不了欺辱，所以他们千方百计想着翻身。既然干不过大的，在小的身上也要找回来，所以他们借助鞋底板把两个弱的给欺负了，看来小孩子是懂得恃强凌弱这个道理的。欺负小的终究被大的欺负，这明显不是长久之策，于是他们找了个更大的帮手，送米酒的小伙子。
形势有了180度的转变，哥哥和弟弟成了孩子王，其他孩子便开始任凭摆布。伸两个指头，你就得躺下，伸开五指，你才能起来，即使你是有钱人的孩子。
就在哥哥和弟弟站稳了脚跟，心情舒畅的时候，一盆冷水浇了下来。岩崎是父亲的老板，对于父亲为何搬到郊外新居，很多人都认为是为了接近老板。确实，父亲是一个拍马屁的人，在岩崎面前点头哈腰，甘为牛马。哥哥和弟弟一开始并未在意，当他们在岩崎家观看影片的时候，看到父亲做出各种滑稽的动作，逗得在场人哈哈大笑，他们感觉受到了极大的侮辱，认为父亲是个小丑，是个供大家消遣的小人物，完全失去了尊严。这与他们刚刚在孩子们中间取得的地位不相符，所以造成了他们的愤怒。
于是他们抗议，他们绝食，原因是自己的父亲比不上太郎的父亲，自己的父亲什么都不是，而太郎的父亲是执行长官。对一个孩子来说，虽然这种想法很幼稚，但这是成长过程中应当存在的困惑，它说明孩子在思考，在为实际的问题考虑，这是一个极好的现象。
面对这样的情况，吉井家里有了一场风波，孩子走入误区，必须有一个矫正的过程，所以说，教育孩子并不容易，没有耐心会造成永久的不理解。最终哥哥和弟弟妥协了，一个好父亲，就应该把孩子当朋友，平心静气，平等交流，孩子也会慢慢理解。
孩子们一直在问，谁的爸爸更厉害，其实大多数的爸爸都很厉害。他们也许身处不同的阶层，不同的岗位，但他们爱孩子的心没有差别，一个家庭的处境也不是一个爸爸能够简单决定的，人的能力毕竟有大小。片中的吉井算得上是一个好爸爸，一个厉害的爸爸，虽然他没有钱，整天跟在老板身后转，强颜欢笑，阿谀奉承，但他为的是什么，是为了让孩子们有个好的生活条件，是为了孩子们将来比他更有出息。这份心，我不知有多少人体会过，至少我还没有。
有人说，这是一个拼爹的时代。我想问，无权无势的爹，是不是都该拉去斩首？无权无势的爹的孩子，是不是都该转世再投胎？
这绝对是胡扯，你爸是谁又怎样，重要的是，你是谁。

English Title: I Was Born, But...
Original Title: Otona no miru ehon - Umarete wa mita keredo
Year: 1932
Country: Japan
Language: Japanese
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Director: Yasujirô Ozu
Writers:
Akira Fushimi
Yasujirô Ozu
Geibei Ibushiya
Music: Donald Sosin
Cinematography: Hideo Shigehara
Cast:
Tomio Aoki
Hideo Sugawara
Tatsuo Saitô
Mitsuko Yoshikawa
Zentaro Iijima
Seiichi Katô
Shôichi Kofujita
Seiji Nishimura
Takeshi Sakamoto
Chishû Ryû
Rating: 7.3/10




This Ozu’s early silent film was made when he was only 29, at a formative age, he has already acquired a keen eye on sieving the callous doctrine of the society’s pecuniary pecking order through the lens of two kids’ growing dismay and perplex.

Two school-age brothers Ryoichi (Sugawara) and Keiji (Aoki) are moving to suburbs with their parents, a shrewd move of their father Yoshi (Saitô, a virtuoso player jostle between primness and clownishness) to hobnob with his boss Iwasaki (Sakamoto). With a good salary, they can afford a better life here, but the boys have some difficulty to find their feet, especially when they are picked on by school bullies, led by a bigger kid (Iijima), they play truant and laze around, ask an older delivery boy (Kofujita) to forge teacher’s signature, all child’s play and they would be reprimanded by Yoshi when the lid is blown off. Nevertheless, Ozu applies a very gentle touch and a ludic attention in limning the boys’ daily expediency to tackle with their problems (there are not enough sparrow’s eggs in the world to beat their bully), and eventually the scale would be tipped when they are wise enough to crack the knack of how to succeed in becoming an alpha dog, even Taro (Katô), Iwasaki’s son, has to pay deference to the boys’ whims. (a children’s game but so rapier-like in its connotation linked to the power struggle in the adult world.)

Then comes a blow, during a friends-gathering in Iwasaki’s place, where films of daily vignettes are screened, a galling discovery would inflame the brothers’ chutzpah to brazenly question their father’s authority, “are you a successful person?”, “why can’t you be successful?”, it is a blow to the brothers’ unwitting but vaunted ego, which certainly doesn’t tally with their young age, and is a corollary of a society spurred and indoctrinated by sheer competition and capitalism, even for kids, they are possessed with the idea of supremacy, power and hubris, which outstrips the parameter of childish mischief. In retrospect, the film grants us a gander into the frame-of-mind of a pre-WWII Japan, but not prescient enough to pinpoint a more perspicacious outlook, instead, an anodyne finale betrays Ozu’s own perspective at that time.

The children in the film are well-trained scamps, endearing to watch, especially Tomio Aoki as the younger brother, transforms the disadvantage of his less photogenic looks into something archly expressive with all the gurning, imitating and feigning, a farceur is in the making. A minor grouch to Donald Sosin’s persistent attendant score, a relentless cascade of tunefulness can certainly overstay its welcome. Anyhow, a lesser comedy branded with Ozu’s name is still worth visiting, not the least for the sake of his masterful tutelage and coordination of his exuberant pupils in front of the camera.

comparison point: Ozu’s EARLY SUMMER (1951) 8.6/10

AlthoughIWas Born, But…(Yasujiro Ozu, 1932) was one of the early works by Ozu, he demonstrates an exceptional aptitude on embodying the callous power dynamics within Japanese working-class structure through the lens of two kids’ growing dismay and perplexity. The film, through a parallel narrative of the father Yoshii (Tatsuo Saito) in work and his children Ryoichi (Hideo Sugawara) and Keiji (Tomio Aoki) in school, presents a keen comparison of the power dynamics of these characters when dealing with convoluted interpersonal relationships.

I Was Born, But…revolves around the notion of power. For salarymen like Yoshii, all the powers concentrate on the hands of the Iwasaki (Takeshi Sakamoto), the big executive in charge of the firm. In order to receive a good salary, and afford a better life for the family, Yoshii racks his mind to hobnob with his boss. Regardless of the physical locations, he would approach Iwasaki in an adulatory manner whenever he has a chance, to not only physically, but mentally live near the boss. Knowing Iwasaki’s passion for film, Yoshii even participates in Iwasaki’s filming of daily vignettes to cater for his interest, which will later trigger a galling incidence, provoking a series of family dramas. While Ozu revealed a bleak image of underlying hierarchies in the adult world and the hypocritical social fabric embedded in the system, he presented a rather humorous and frisky plot via the scope of the neighborhood children, paralleling with the salaryman script. Unlike the adult world brimming with intrigues and office politics, for children, the advent of power lies in physical strength. New to the neighborhood, Ryoichi and Keiji struggle to blend in the new environment, especially when they are intimidated by school bullies, led by a bigger kid (Zentaro Iijima). Luckily, they are wise enough to exploit the physical power of the older delivery boy (Shoichi Kofujita), and eventually to supersede the bigger kid as the most dominant figures in the neighborhood. Even Taro (Katô), Iwasaki’s son, has to pay deference to the boys’ incantation. (a game often played among the children) In the sequence in which the kids witness Yoshii accompanying Iwasaki back home, we finally see these two storylines interweave. Ashamed of the fact that Taro’s father is their father’s boss, Ryoichi and Keiji once again cast the incantation on Toro, hoping to regain at least part of their supremacy. However, Yoshii intervenes and halts the game forthwith, helping Taro gets up from the ground as if he is treating his boss at work at the same time reproaching his sons’ impropriety. Of course, the twins would not understand why their father, an undisputed hero figure in their opinion, would treat Taro in such an obsequious manner. Nevertheless, Father’s reprimand is a blow to the brothers’ imaginary fantasy, offering them a snippet of the how things should work in the reality. The scene puts the two independent worlds under the same frame, revealing adult society’s boot-licking conducts as oppose to children’s ingenuous power ideology and imparting them an imperative lesson about the rigid stratification of the society for the first time.

Ozu's deft camera movements usage are inalienable from narrative functions achieved inIWas Born, But.Nonetheless, the most salient visual style ought to be his utilization of camera movements as a medium to navigate between the two major storylines. Reminiscent of Fritz Lang’s employment of sound as a cue to cut between different spaces inM,(Fritz Lang, 1931), Ozu harnessed the tracking of the camera to establish a relationship between two shots regardless of the discontinuous spaces. In the playground/office scene, a sequence of students marching down the playground is cut to the father’s office smoothly as the camera tracks from left to right. The playful camera movement proffers a sense of verisimilitude as audiences mentally follow the camera motion, navigating between the two settings despite the lack of temporal unity. The juxtaposition of irrelevant sequences also puts two drastically different worlds (children and adults) in compare and contrast with each other, soliciting viewers’ examination of the ulterior motifs behind the image. On the playground, the bigger kid got excoriated by the teacher for not following instructions like other students do. In a cut to the next sequence, the camera, however, now tracking from left to right, capturing an associate who meant to concentrate on work, and shifts right forthwith as he could not resist the soporific working environment and began to yawn like anyone else. These nuances in each character’s synchronous motions allude to the social conformity which everyone ought to obey, epitomizing the foreboding transition from carefree children to institutionalized worker for each person living in the society surrounded by sheer competition.

Although taking immense amounts of inspiration from classical Hollywood comedy, Ozu repeatedly violated the Hollywood continuity editing principle. Instead filming the dialogue scene in the traditional over-the-shoulder method, Ozu framed his dialogue scene more often in a 360-degree style, constantly switching camera positions, proffering a discordant but holistic scene. In the film’s final scene, after understanding the father’s identity and accepting the reality of the life, the two brothers admitted Taro’s father is indeed better. After reconciliation, a straight-on medium long shot shows that the brothers again casting incantation on Taro. In the next shot, however, the camera has already moved behind Ryoichi’s feet, as we observe Taro’s “death” on the ground. At the moment that Ryoichi and Keiji cast the second “revival” incantation in the subsequent shot, the camera has completely switched to the opposite point of view that the initial shot is at, revealing not only the twin brothers but also the train rail barrier.

People would often associate discontinuity film production such as 360-degree system, uncanny camera positions, and playful editing with a sense of distance and detachment because of the diminishing effect on the temporal unity across the narrative. But for Ozu, the combination of these techniques results the opposite, presenting a self-aware and emotionally-intense everyday scenario which builds upon a direct conversation with the audience. The usage of these cinematic techniques continues to be an inextricable part of Ozu’s directing language through his entire film career, embodying his philosophy of straddling the realm of subjectivity and objectivity, and offering contemplative cinemas to viewers not only to realize the sadness and melancholy about the reality of life but to retrospect their own experiences.