30 December 2010
Decadence, thy name is Five Leaves. Last night: house made ricotta with fresh thyme, chestnut honey, figs, Maldon sea salt and fruit bread, roasted delicata squash with creamy fregola, fresh ginger, marscarpone, and fresh soy beans and french fries and a Kir and a Blonde Redhead sighting and our (R!) almost 10 year old friendship.
29 December 2010
28 December 2010
Remembered that the fur stole I keep on Coral's chair, to hide a missing button, is made to be worn in weather like this. So, here I am, last night, wearing my stole in bed, wind whipping, writing to you, thinking of black irises and symmetry, stacking rings and Tuscany.
27 December 2010
25 December 2010
Having stuffed our burlap sacks with enough greenery and crimson to garland a dozen windows, we set about choosing a tree. "It should be," muses my friend, "twice as tall as a boy. So a boy can't steal the star." The one we pick is twice as tall as me...Once a car stops, and the rich mill owner's lazy wife leans out and whines: "Giveya two-bits" cash for that ol tree." Ordinarily my friend is afraid of saying no; but on this occasion she promptly shakes her head: "We wouldn't take a dollar." The mill owner's wife persists. "A dollar, my foot! Fifty cents. That's my last offer. Goodness, woman, you can get another one." In answer, my friend gently reflects: "I doubt it. There's never two of anything." -"A Christmas Memory", Truman Capote, 1956
23 December 2010
Two Pierrots Balancing on Swans and Two Dancers, Hans Christian Andersen
Left work past dusk, but not too far, and raised a glass to celebrate my forever friend, the new Mrs. Eliz D-L, to be.
22 December 2010
Having an exclusive dreamtime relationship with toast with warm pears, marscarpone, honey and black pepper and The Magus.
21 December 2010
...in the centre of Georgiana's left cheek there was a singular mark, deeply interwoven, as it were, with the texture and substance of her face. In the usual state of her complexion--a healthy though delicate bloom--the mark wore a tint of deeper crimson, which imperfectly defined its shape amid the surrounding rosiness. When she blushed it gradually became more indistinct, and finally vanished amid the triumphant rush of blood that bathed the whole cheek with its brilliant glow. But if any shifting motion caused her to turn pale there was the mark again, a crimson stain upon the snow, in what Aylmer sometimes deemed an almost fearful distinctness. Its shape bore not a little similarity to the human hand, though of the smallest pygmy size. Georgiana's lovers were wont to say that some fairy at her birth hour had laid her tiny hand upon the infant's cheek, and left this impress there in token of the magic endowments that were to give her such sway over all hearts. Many a desperate swain would have risked life for the privilege of pressing his lips to the mysterious hand. -"The Birthmark", Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1843
20 December 2010
16 December 2010
15 December 2010
14 December 2010
13 December 2010
In this early morning dream, Lucy Harmon stalked by me, navy and black evening gown, hair piled on her expansive head. There were attacks, plastic bags exploding underfoot, escape by cruise ship, seasickness, return to land, a performance piece in piles of French lingerie, a library, a rapt audience of movie stars and Nobel Prize winners, and then, her expansive head.
10 December 2010
09 December 2010
It's Thursday, we stayed up too late last night watching a movie in bed, and I've just had a burst of enlightenment. 24° F is no weather for cascades of radiance, but the klieg lights of love are on. I've lined you all up in little terra cotta pots on a window with south-facing light. Let's see what happens. I'll do my part, never mind what you do, and coffee, keep brewing and perking for you are the spine of sustained eminantion of enlightenment.
08 December 2010
"We both worry about Constance. There are depths which neither of us have fully explored, but we have gained a great idea of her." -The Master, Colm Tóibín
A new way of looking. We thrive on instinct, gut reactions, first impressions, when really, we're all just a sketch to each other.
07 December 2010
06 December 2010
03 December 2010
To be frank, shit's gone bananas (in the very best way) at work lately, and I'm wiped. If I owe you (life!) something, I strive to knock down my list on Saturday (knock it back, knock it back) before I catch up with Amal and our friend Dwr's on Saturday night. Sunday we go to visit Eleanor and her pleasure palace with our families, and Monday? I start again.
02 December 2010
- Of august gold-wreathed and beautiful
- Aphrodite I shall sing to whose domain
- belong the battlements of all sea-loved
- Cyprus where, blown by the moist breath
- of Zephyros, she was carried over the
- waves of the resounding sea on soft foam.
- The gold-filleted Horae happily welcomed
- her and clothed her with heavenly raiment.
Dress your best, like a goddess birthed from the inside of a most iconoclast, absinthe-gurgling sort of oyster.