Liberty London Girl

Update/Explanation: I drafted the post below on 1 November 2009. It's posting today with no editing (until a point in abstract future) for a few reasons. 1) Whatever happened on Mad Men last night has even non-Mad Men posters busy as bees. So I'd best download it from iTunes & watch. 2) I feel like hell. More about which later this week (because I'll know something then). 3) I arrived home from my lovely house/cat sitting gig on Saturday evening....to open windows & the a/c chugging away. By the date on the "we're finished rehabbing your bathroom"slip (no you are not & I've busted you to the property manager), this state of affairs went on for at least 4 days. No money coming in & everything going -- literally -- out the window is causing huge upset. 4) Sasha, author of Liberty London Girl, is in the midst of blog troll visitation & it pisses me off. (I should explain that LLG was anonymous at the time of this draft; she has since popped out of her shell & is doing very well indeed.)

The Laura Burlton photographs (via here) reminded me of a sister who was a ballerina-in-training. And the sorts of things we used to get up to in old tulle & netting, as thunderstorms approached from Canada, on Lake Erie. It felt so wild & free. Very unlike today.

27 August 2011 Update - Laura Burlton, excellent photographer, stopped by with her new website address.

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I enjoy this compilation of tidbits on fashion & life (not really in that order) by an English fashion editor living in America. I don't go looking for blogs often as so many of you have great links & recommendations; that's how I came upon this one--sorry but I don't remember where (perhaps, Wee Birdy). I instantly visited as Liberty of London patterns & fabric (& the main store in London) have been important touchstones to another era. One is wrapped around my neck quite often, my grandfather's WWII-era silk paisley scarf. More about which another time.

LLG's post Ex-pat Friends reeled me in again yesterday (Saturday). I can identify, though I'm not an ex-pat at the moment, I know what she means because I could easily be one of the Americans in her group. LLG's LinkedWithin widget popped up a post called Why I Never Lose Hope In America. I was intrigued & clicked on the video. Along with a strongly brewed coffee, it provided the oomph to get on with it another day.

As I watched the video, I thought of the young man who asked me to talk about the Human Rights Campaign & gay marriage last week. I was on my way to arrange my local Amnesty International group's gift-wrap-for-donation gigs at a local bookstore. I was feeling mighty crabby but I know what it's like to pitch one's cause (though I've not done so on a street corner in a zillion years*).

I thought about him, standing up there in the rain, when I watched this video. (And a younger cousin, who is gay & married--& I'm not putting that in quotation marks.)

Thanks, Liberty London Girl. (And for all your excellent tips, too.)

*At 15 (1/2) years-old, I was surrounded, swarmed really, by the meanest bunch of capitalist hyenas in Pittsburgh. They yelled & cursed as I handed out flyers for a Democratic candidate near the plaza of the then-U.S. Steel Building. Two of them were from my church & I thought they were rescuing me from the pitchfork-wielding villagers. Nope. They were incensed that a "nice girl " of their acquaintance was doing this (outrageous, um, Constitutionally-protected) deed. I busted them--to our seminarian, a friend. They were lectured by our minister & shamed into apologies. I think they only felt bad that they swore at a girl from their church. (This was also the minister's opinion & it upset him very much.) Though many steelworkers & other union guys came to my aid, it was a traumatic experience. It felt imminently violent. I can't claim it for sure, but my successful plans to escape to another country for an unspecified amount of time might have been sealed that day.

The Interrupted Concert

It was on this day in 1936 that the 38-year-old Spanish poet Federico García Lorca was executed, a few weeks after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. In those first weeks, people on both sides — the leftist republicans and the right-wing nationalists — were rounded up and killed, as many as 50,000, with particularly heavy casualties against the republicans. Lorca was a leftist sympathizer, an open homosexual, and a writer who wrote about oppressed people like gypsies, so he was an easy target for the nationalists.--The Writer's Almanac

"Seventy years after his death, his voice is just as alive as on that 19 August night when bullets tried to silence it." --conclusion to this 2006 article, Poet's Death Still Troubles Spain.

Here is the link to the bilingual Fundacion Federico García Lorca (in Madrid) created by Lorca's sister, Isabel. BBC link of Lorca's life in pictures, here. I can barely write a thing as this horrific murder makes me weep.

The Interrupted Concert

The frozen sleepy pause

of the half moon

has broken the harmony

of the deep night.

The ditches, shrouded in sedge,

protest in silence,

and the frogs, muezzins of shadow,

have fallen silent.

In the old village inn

the sad music has ceased,

and the most ancient of stars

has muted its ray.

The wind has come to rest

in dark mountain caves,

and a solitary poplar—Pythagoras

of the pure plain—

lifts its aged hand

to strike at the moon. (trans. W.S. Merwin)

Sunday Shopping - Sleep in a Persian Garden

It is no secret that I suffer from sleeplessness.

I just removed 700 words of fairly amusing drivel but it needs to be edited. As the tree near my desk is being whipped to a froth, the silvery undersides of the leaves showing, & the prospect of another power outage looms, I shall simply go straight to the shopping bit. The edited drivel will magically show up (in Parts I & II) next week.

In early June I finally tired of washing out a navy silk made-by-enslaved-masses sleep mask & needing it before it dried. So I went looking for another one & did so much better by visiting Bonnie, mask-maker extraordinaire, of BibBon on etsy. Bonnie has over 100 hundred masks to choose from, including a plain black one (which is important, I think, not just for men but for minimalist moods). I chose the one above, Persian Garden.

The two adjustable straps idea is wonderful & the sewing is sturdy & tightly done. I will never ever ever buy a mass-made sleep mask again. Not only that--it was less expensive than buying that popular navy silk deal in Whole Foods, ULTA, or wherever you found yours. Yes, really. The version I chose was $12.00 (yes, you read that correctly) + shipping = $US 13.30.

Bonnie will ask your choice of inner linings & guide you to what you want/need. That's it. It arrived quickly, washes beautifully, & I feel more glamorous than I should. If I am able to begin working (for money) again soon (please), I'll climb BibBon's luxury ladder for one of the silks.

Oh & a major side benefit about these masks from my perspective: Julie the Cat cannot budge the thing off my face as she can the other. While she seems to feel this has diminished her quality of morning mischief, I could not be happier (about that, at any rate). Go visit Bonnie at BibBon.

Have a great Sunday/Monday & I'll be back soon (if the power is on). Cheers & here's to a good night's sleep.

PS: Un grand bisou, Phoenix Olivier. Bon anniversaire!

[photographs via BibBon with permission, all rights reserved; Shell Cure for Insomnia via LIFE Archives]

Moreau Making Waves

The Ocean On Bicycles from runrobot on Vimeo.

As long as you don't make waves, ripples, life seems easy. But that's condemning yourself to impotence and death before you are dead. Jeanne Moreau

Lovely little film, The Ocean on Bicycles: A Gray Afternoon in June via Cycle Chic - The Original from Copenhagen. Here is Roger Ebert review of Jules et Jim ( 1962), many years later (in 2004). I may burst before I get to the sea (soon). I hope to have the energy to cycle at least one loop around a wildlife refuge. I'll try. In my Breton stripes, of course. Update - click through to the vimeo site above to see a larger version of the video.

[photographs by Raymond Cauchetier, uncredited still photographer; also Douglas Kirkland]

Hair in the Air

Carol's Paris Hair post made me think of all the haircuts I've had. I usually don't go on about what I look like, my clothes, my apartment, etc. (really, who cares?) But I felt compelled to construct & send this quickie collage to Carol in reply to an email from her, in a reply to a comment. (Got that?) Carol cut her hair before she left for Paris; now she's espying long hair everywhere. *

Tina Tarnoff Thought Patterns post Hair, Wonderful Hair is fun. She's researching the subject for her husband's latest book. Fabulous vintage images of decidedly non-short hair. Go visit Carol & Tina & their respective etsy shops (connected to their blogs). They're both so very talented.

*This happened to me in London once. I had an unusual-for-me 'oh no what have I done to my hair? moment--but just a moment.. A very dashing man walking by, stopped, looked me in the eyes & said: "How marvellously Jean Seberg of you, darling." I treasure this, as it will never happen again. Sniff.

[Photograph credits forthcoming very soon. I didn't think that I'd post this but as it might seem, I'm running late & thought the haircuts might inspire someone on the fence to go for it. It does grow back, you know. Just don't get one of those helmet hair deals. Please.]

Tennis, anyone?

I love it. I grew up with it. I collected Bjorn Borg covers & clippings. Went to every exhibition match possible; it must have been amusing to adults. My mother was a brilliant amateur player. Very upset & downhearted that I missed Federer's magnificent win. Watched the Guardian online tweet-updates, for hours, sitting at my desk--that's how much I love it & RF (no disrespect to Andy).

Also, reading about the Woman Who Cracked My Tooth. I'd love to say good riddance but I fear that she's merely regrouping. (I certainly hope nothing is wrong with anyone's health, etc. Just to be clear. I'm not a mean person. Just stay in Alaska & drive them nuts, will ya?) Hazel at The Clever Pup has a funny Whazzup Sarah! post & many people were commenting on it today, here.

[ LIFE archives/Wimbledon file/lady in pink is by Albert Lynch in 1893/second is at Wimbledon itself/not attributed]

Week's End - Crème de Menthe Trifle Gown

See what you might do about that, would you?*

*This directive was first issued to or near my person (it was that weird) one horridly hot, humid, no A/C in the house morning... from an excessively-self-regarding summer-sublet. (The other resident friend-housemates shot out the door for their offices/classes with a vigor intense even for DC. Cowards.) She actually did the little QEII wave of the hand (without irony--I would've given style points for that). She'd blown the fuses just one too many times (I kept a paper bag of them by the fusebox--that's how often).

There's a very funny story here (at my own expense, yes, of course, the funniest kind). It's way over 500-word limit & a messy tangle at that. I'll rework it off-line. The things a photograph will do. So see? It's working, sort of.

I love this photograph (& two uncropped versions) by Nick Bartoletti in Seattle. [Update: here's the direct link to his Clise Manion shoot set.] His photograph in the Jump! post (1 June 2009) is a new addition to the wall at my right. At the moment, I can't even manage a bunny hop; that's not his fault, though. This dress reminded me of The Clever Pup's Crème de Menthe Trifle recipe (her post here) that I'd planned to make for a party last night. Best laid plans...

The dress also reminds me of the gorgeous costumes in Sofia Coppola's Marie-Antoinette & that little wave of the hand by The Fuse-Blower.

I have two major commitments this weekend--one quite demanding, the other outside. For hours. Taking people's guff (& niceness, too, to be fair) behind a table. And if it would just stop, please someone, stop the thunderstorms it would be most helpful. It's been a bad week for a lot of people here in DC. Yes, the museum shooting.

I'll try to be back for something worth reporting over the weekend. Perhaps over the phone...ciao

[Nick Bartoletti photograph used by permission/all rights reserved]

Joni in Black & White, this flight tonight

The English Muse wants a getaway & asked where she (we) should go. Her post, I'll book the flight instantly brought This Flight Tonight to mind. Except that song is an "oh what did I just do, getting on this plane." Yes, but no, but yes. Get on the plane & visit (move here), someone told me once. Get on the damn plane, he said. Upon landing, all I could think was: turn this crazy bird around...

The photo above is pre-Blue but JM wrote an astonishing number of well-known songs early in her life, recording them much later. I liked happening upon the early photo while looking for something else. But of course.

Update: Word from la Muse is that Paris is the consensus, BTW. Free man in Paris...la la la.

Venetian Rosy Glow

Love these. The lampioni rosa are a well-known (& beloved) Venetian symbol everywhere in Italy. When I was there, I thought they would make great jewellry (scaled down, of course) & still do. For all I know, that happened long ago. I've drawn (badly) over & again, a pair of chandelier-style earrings...with imaginary Murano glass. Well, at least there isn't any blue in here, right? Rose, rose, rose.

(photograph by Alice Lucchin of Venice & a very interesting woman.)

Update: So tired that I scheduled this for tomorrow's date instead of today. Will keep repeating, "Wednesday, Wednesday, 25th, 25th" for rest of day, I'm sure. ciao.

Venice in Blue & Yellow

Matissean laundry. Huh? We're tired, man. Someday this will all come together. Meanwhile, we forge ahead with picture collection.Another lovely Venetian shot by Allison Lince-Bentley via worldislandinfo.

Colorful canal houses, Burano, Venice

Lovely Burano (in Venetian Lagoon) photograph by talented Allison Lince-Bentley. See Painterly Venice. (via World Island Info).

Painterly Venice

Love, love, love Allison Lince-Bentley's Venice photographs.

Original image courtesy Allison Lince-Bentley