by Angeliska on March 31, 2010
♥ I can’t get over these pearblossoms. Giant fluffy snowball trees exploding
all over town. I wish they had a nicer scent – our smells kind of awful, but
aren’t they heart-stoppingly lovely? I hope we’ll have pears this year, the
last few seasons it’s been the birds or passersby on the street who’ve
nabbed them. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a homegrown Poire Belle Hélène!
♥ Advanced Style
This is such a fantastic fashion blog. Sometimes I think that the only people
who really know how to dress with real joie de vivre are the very young
(Here’s lookin’ at you, Tavi!) or the silver foxes. I know I plan on being the
most outrageously well-dressed granny ever. No sweatsuits for me- not now, or ever!
(Thanks you for this, Mlle. Amelia!)
♥ On that note, I know probably everybody’s seen this already, but
LY is a great style hero of mine, and this peek into her marvelous home
and collections of dollies and toys is just priceless. I want to go there for tea!
Lynn Yaeger on a Lifetime of Collecting
♥ Michael Bay to remake Rosemary’s Baby. Really? What a travesty.
I can’t think of anyone less qualified to do it justice.
I rarely am pleased by remakes of any films, although
I must say that we watched Alexandre Aja’s version of
The Hills Have Eyes, the other night, and were very,
very impressed. It’s seriously grim, but quite well done.
♥ If you’re an aspiring photographer, read this
and become part of the solution, not the problem:
For Photographers, the Image of a Shrinking Path
(Clayton Cubitt, on a recent article in the NYTimes)
♥ Stunning images of sleeping insects festooned in dewdrop diadems
(By an aspiring photographer – I wonder if he was paid for them?)
♥ On The Road With Dark Dark Dark Here’s a great playlist from Marshall
+ Nona + company. We got to see them again during SXSW,
and they were wondrous. They’re on tour, so see them if they
come your way – and get that new album, it’s so sublime.
So, something bad happened this past fall when I was recovering
from surgery. I developed a nasty habit. Not as bad as, say, crack-
but similar. I started watching Lost. Yeah, it’s true. You see, I don’t
have a television (I’ve never owned one, and never intend to) but
now you can watch these things on the internets, and that is very
dangerous indeed. While I was laid up in bed, I wanted to watch
something very absorbing, slightly supernatural and not funny
(because laughing with stitches in your belly is no good) and
somehow we ended up getting totally hooked. Two months later,
we’d made it through five seasons. Horrifying, I know. It’s like I
said: crack cocaine. If you’ve never seen it, then take my advice:
don’t. Not unless you are also laid up and high on darvocet
like I was. That being said, I am relatively unashamed of my
bad habit- especially since it’s very nearly over and done with.
Now we go to the Alamo Drafthouse every other week and watch
it with a bunch of other dorks (some who show up in Dharma
Iniative jumpsuits. Yes, really.) So, if you’re similarly addicted,
you will definitely appreciate the wonderful LOST Underground
Art Show that Mister Ales Kot alerted me to recently.
Great stuff. A few of my favorites are below:
“The Number 108″
acrylic on plexiglass, layered
“Smokey In Disguise”
watercolor, pencil and gouache on paper
“Circle Of Ash”
acrylic on panel
It’s interesting to think about art being inspired
by something as banal as a television show, but
why not? Being a latch-key kid, I was largely baby-sat
by the television (and large stacks of true ghost stories
and books about the paranormal- not great for reading
when you’re eight and at home all alone!) and I remember
being hypnotized by it for hours and hours, and how tired
and sad I would feel afterwards. The commercials always
made me hungry and angry. So I’ve tried to shun it for a long
time. Kind of ironic, considering that my grandfather was a pioneer
in that world (he produced and directed the first televised operas,
as well as the first science fiction television show, Captain Video.)
I was just reading Rachael Gibson’s (Fur Coat, No Knickers)
confession about her obsession with The Tribe. Oddly enough,
I caught a few episodes of The Tribe when my grampa and I
were traveling though Europe. I think maybe we were in Spain?
I remember being totally captivated by this weird show about
raver-goth kids living in a post-apocalyptic shopping mall.
Now, thanks to the magic of the youtubes, I can see what it
was all about! Oh dear. Someone stop me, please.