Week's End - Possibilities

Some men give up their designs when they have almost reached the goal; While others, on the contrary, obtain a victory by exerting, at the last moment, more vigorous efforts than ever before.--Herodotus

Go US v. England, today at 2pm EDT. (Well, we won in 1950, I hear. I wasn't born yet.) Go Azzurri on Monday. I saw the Italians play Mexico in the 1994 World Cup quarterfinals here in Washington, DC. I still have my l'il plastic Il Tricolore. Yes, it is possible to be a romantic & love sport. I am aware of the corporate-hyena stuff, spare me. You must understand that I look at these events through the prism of my Western classical academic training. Ahem. And it is stress relief of the first order.

Speaking of stress relief...American ex-pat in Italia, Michelle Fabio of Bleeding Espresso (visit her!) posted this hilarious Daily Show clip from Thursday's show on Facebook. John Oliver is just determined to undermine the Americans on behalf of the Brits. (It's funny whether you like football/soccer - or not.)

[photograph - a rugby footballer kissing his wife (or girlfriend) by the wonderful Australian photographer Sam Hood, 1934]

My Baroque Brain (Breathe II)

The afternoon before I had lain across

my bed and my cat leapt up to lie

alongside me, purring and slowly

growing dozy. By this ritual I could/ clear some clutter from my baroque brain...
The Cloisters, Wm. Matthews, greatly missed.

I must have 100+ images of (North African/Levantine baroque) bedrooms but not for tonight. This is from the Verhext tumblr; marvellous San Francisco artist Tina Tarnoff of Thought Patterns has a post using images from this site. I highly recommend a visit to Pleasure.

Off to the virtual Libyan desert tomorrow for more basket magic. If only he would...hold that thought.

The Sheltering Sky

I was on the edge of a dust storm today (as here), just the edge; but enough to make one wonder "Why do you do these things? Why?!" Helping unpack & cull fabulous-to-good baskets from Darfur, Sudan, destined for sale here in the States. (The poor uh-oh baskets--we're thinking of what/how to salvage.)

The travel time for these boxes of baskets...what a journey. A new intern, "I think these boxes are older than me!" I think so, too. We had the Sahel all over us, the dust & grime. I said, "Look? Ugh" "I prefer to not think of it," she said in a funny voice. Naturally, I began thinking of the provenance of every piece of grit.

A nice bit of serendipity--Tina Tarnoff, fantastic artist & author of Thought Patterns has a post on tarting up a steamer trunk. (I have had one in my bedroom since I was very little & am enthused by the possibilities. This enthusiasm may wane. We shall see.) Tina & her husband were inspired to acquire & do something with a steamer trunk after they watched The Sheltering Sky, the adaptation of the Paul Bowles novel. And so I take that title for the post or else it will just be titled Desert Grime. Or something worse.

I just realized, yes only now, that I was unpacking things-that-were-shipped from a far away land. Camels were involved. Yep.

Thanks to everyone for their comments here, on Facebook, & in email about Giulia Geranium's birthday. The cat herself remains unimpressed by me & my machinations on her behalf. She is very interested in the basket I brought home tonight, though. After all, she descends from North African desert lands....as do all domesticated felines (anywhere in the world...how weird is that?).

Thursday update: Here's an interesting post called Writing Morocco from Peony Moon blog (gorgeous photographs).

[photographs by Tim Navis (via Sebastian tumblr), Fady Habib (via Beauty in Everything) & the sea is from Noa's tumblr (inactive) all via we heart it]

Summer Sandals

These are nearly identical to beloved sandals I had for about 18 years. Up & down countless steps & hills, deserts & cities, seashores & villages. Pulling out of a Metro station two days ago, I saw a woman wearing-- my sandals! (Or close.) Where, where? Did you get them? OK, I thought-yelled it. I do not believe they exist in this world--now--for less than $500 dollars. I don't remember where I bought them (a dust storm was kicking up), but they were in a half-smashed cardboard box. I searched for a left & then a right, paid, & left wearing them, running from that storm. So many people asked me about those sandals. They served me well. Until one day, a cobbler said Not even I, Signorina, can mend these. You must say good-bye. I know it is hard. Much history, yes? Only enough to break your heart. The kind that breaks your heart. [photograph by Nina Leen, LIFE Archives]

Gyges & Desert Dreams

Promise to find Phil Bray, the still photographer. (photo credit) [Update: 28 June 2009. Here is provisional link to Phil Bray's Credit site.] These are crazy with color & saturation & stuff like that. I did some of it because, again, the photos online are a mess. Might as well make them crazier looking. Feeling hallucinatory anyway. 'night.

Famous Blue Raincoat

Aha. Never trust a writer, particularly one who is underemployed...so no, not 4am, not NYC. Was thinking about Leonard on tour (here a few days ago in DC...of course I couldn't go) & love triangles & so on. And I wanted to get these shots into the archives, & oh well. Cohen isn't satisfied with the lyrics & I understand why. I don't know anyone who is satisfied with most things they do. Here's a quote to BBC Radio, years ago:

"The trouble with that song is that I've forgotten the actual triangle. Whether it was my own … of course. I always felt that there was an invisible male seducing the woman I was with, now whether this one was incarnate or merely imaginary I don't remember, I've always had the sense that either I've been that figure in relation to another couple or there'd been a figure like that in relation to my marriage. I don't quite remember but I did have this feeling that there was always a third party, sometimes me, sometimes another man, sometimes another woman."

That isn't the 'trouble.' By the time you rework some things, you can forget your name, or would like to, or that was the purpose in the first place (if you admitted it). Also one suspects he's like everyone else: who wants to remember?

Still looking for a site for the still photographer listed in TEP credits (Phil Bray). This is also one of those it's-Egyptian-desert-Cairo-but-really-Tunisia deals. It's difficult to believe that I stood not far from where the top photo was shot, some years earlier; that was some taxi ride. Remain fairly obsessed by it (the desert). What is "fairly" obsessed? I don't know. Will edit. Maybe. [photographs are saturated, cropped, detailed, tinted, & sepia-ed by me. They were a mess on original downloads anyway. I think there's an actual making-of book & I'd love to have it. Maybe. Have to look at it first & then win the lottery.]

Off to ultra-scary dentist appointment...& no doubt people arguing about mustard on the Metro. (Yes, I'm talking about people talking about the President's moutarde choice. Criminy.)

[photo credits /Phil Bray]-Update: 28 June 2009. Here is new link to Phil Bray Credits - looking for individual website, still.