Twiggy

Life was easier when my mother was in charge of my hair (don't tell her, I won't admit it). She was an unabashed admirer of this look. Some mouths dropped as I walked into school after a salon visit. That Halloween, I sported Twiggy fake eyelashes, tights, & a Twiggy long shirt (or short dress); I think it was from England. I wish my mother would look at the computer; she'd love this Twiggy site. It was a lot of fun & it did suit me, that style. I returned to it in the 80s when all that hair was being permed...ugh. Not for me. There was a French Elle (there was no other Elle at the time) with a great short cut on the cover--that was it. People nearly passed out when they saw me on a Monday.

I became increasingly self-conscious as the day wore on. People kept walking into my academic department & gasped. Really gasping. I was growing annoyed & touchy with these doltish Americans (yes, I am one). Even "free spirits" said, "Oh but your beautiful hair...." Finally, a professor known for his contentiousness & barbed remarks walked in. I thought, I will scream [expletive deleted] if he says one damn thing. He considered me for just a moment & tilted his head, & said, "Wow. Jean Seberg. Breathless. Wow. Good for you." Turned on his heel & left. No one said another word.

[images via Just Covers/tumblr & the black & white via here.]

Week's End - The Plum Plum

It is a very plum plum.. -Count Laszlo de Almásy, The English Patient (film/screenplay).

As soon as I read that Toronto's Hazel Smith of The Clever Pup had opened an etsy shop, I clicked over to The Plum Plum. Familiar with Hazel's paintings from her charming blog, I was delighted to see some reproduced on paper goods. So far, there are a couple of journals, sepia postcards, & The Plum Tarts.

The latter are Hazel's marvellously evocative paintings of les femmes fatales & artist's models of the 1920s Paris art scene. Now they grace blank note cards (glossy card stock/4.25 x 5.5 inches with white envelopes) in a set of four (or separately). These are high-quality, well-priced cards. I ordered a set o' Tarts & two Marie cards. Problem: how to allow the cards go, to fulfill their destiny. Solution: I've ordered the Marie notebook & look forward to showing it off at the Phillips Collection café soon. I'm convinced that it will add to my aura of mystery & general savoir-faire. (Allow me my delusion-illusions.)

The Plum Plum is la crème de la crème. Well done & congratulations to Hazel. Now, let's keep her busy!

bonne nuit/bon week-end

[collage images by Hazel Smith/The Plum Plum/all rights reserved]

Worlds Collide Warning - World Day Against Cyber Censorship

Oh I'm late with this...Italian friends say. I ask you. What's more Italian than being late? OK, great food, clothes, style. I'm in trouble no matter what I type now. It's World Day Against Cyber Censorship. Great good feelings go out to those in Iran, China (& elsewhere) who are imprisoned or in hiding. Here's Amnesty International link, too.

The second photograph is by Susannah Conway of Ink on My Fingers & sums up what's happening here now. (Along with azure chandelier longings.)

Week's End late tonight...

Mediterranean Makeover

Hmmm. [photographs via everything turquoise; only alice; Life in Italy; casasugar.com; ralphlauren.com; moi]

At the Market

How easily happiness begins by

dicing onions. A lump of sweet butter

slithers and swirls across the floor

of the sauté pan, especially if its

errant path crosses a tiny slick

of olive oil. Then a tumble of onions...-William Matthews

The first stanza of Onions. Read it, do. Then, if like me you have a lot of lentils & rice (all kinds) on hand, it's hard to beat Marcella Hazan's Zuppa di lenticchie. The lentil love link is to Champaign Taste, an excellent food blog & since Lisa typed it out all pretty, why do it over? If you're a vegetarian, leave out the pancetta & use water or vegetable broth. If you're vegan, leave out the parmesan, too. No problem. But I beg you--spend the extra money on San Marzano tomatoes. Yes, it really does make a difference.

The photograph is by fave Giampaolo Macorig who was in a Roman market recently. Look at all those rices, grains, & legumes. It's going to rain cats & dogs here soon...so off to make soup.

ciao

Claudia in Black & White

Did you know that bella (& smart) Claudia was born in Tunisia (of Sicilian parents)? Here's a good link to a UK site--a Tribute to Claudia Cardinale. Much, much better photographs than here. I like the one of her on a Roman street (left in collage); it's so familiar. She has a book called "My Tunisia." Alas, I cannot find it (yet). Ciao.

[the large photographs by Paul Schutzer/ Rome, 1961/LIFE archives; the others are via we heart it, from Femenino plural & por FactoryGirl photography/tumblr; pASTelgIRL/flickr]

L'eau de Rose/Rosewater

I use a lot of rosewater (in food & otherwise). The last photograph of the Jordanian desert will illustrate why rosewater became essential to my well-being when living there. (OK, not in the desert but working on a dig, it's much the same thing.) It's an affordable tonic.

[photographs from lovely sfgirlbybay; your life, it seems extravagant/tumblr; dizrthymia/tumblr; all via we heart it; Jordanian desert from The Real Israel blog on Wordpress.]

Jerusalem in Sepia

[The Real Israel blog; unfortunately, inactive]

Blue Flower Clouds

[image via random thoughts/tumblr, via we heart it)

Meet Me on the Bridge

Last year's GG image & a video. It's that kind of day. And yes, I will be on a bridge, so meet us there if you are here. (It's a Zen thing.) For those overseas, hope you are having a wonderful day. (Next year in Rome...) For a little fun, check in with Michelle at Bleeding Espresso. baci/xoxo

Week's End - Reds

Even though I'm rereading Keats, I have been preoccupied with WWI (& the Russian Revolution). The Sepia Saturday peeps & the Netflix Fairy are to blame. Equally. (Also, cleaning. Because John Reed's Ten Days that Shook the World fell off a shelf & so there you are. Can I blame Warren Beatty, too?) Julie the Cat just purged me from the house finances committee. Uh oh.

[photographs via New York Times & Alt Film guide-www.altfg.com/Clive Coote, uncredited still photographer/Reds]

Ballet Shoe High-Wire Act

While I rush about (good luck to me)...here is a photograph by only alice from a recent holiday in Barcelona. If you click on the photo (better yet, click through to the original photo), you'll see the ballet shoes. The question is...what are they doing there?

Moroccan Aqua

I love only alice's Marrakesh flickr set (no kidding). Looking through about a thousand magazines (before recycling) for the color for bedroom curtains. Looking at a Bonnard print against the terracotta paint, I nearly flicked my own forehead: the sea. It's only been on the wall for, oh, 15+ years. This will remind me: stop trying to blend in. [Update - yes, I do know how to spell 'Morocco'. Abject apologies to Moroccans.]

Giochi per gatti di casa

Giochi per gatti di casa (Games for house cats) by Rita Persichini was a gift from our friend Maria Caterina di Perugia. These are some of the darling original illustrations by Lorena Dominici in a little Picasa collage. (The second collage is here.) I've tried & tried to track these folks down for permission. Zip (so far).

The book is propped up on a bookshelf..not that many people notice; there's quite a mash-up on those shelves. The bookcases themselves compete for wall space. Julie was showing off a while ago when there was a knock on the door; now she's sleeping off the effort. Today, I'm having a mash-up of zee brain--but I wanted to get March started already (on this blog). Plus, Keats loved cats, so...it's all related, right? (It is reported that Keats rarely got into physical fights; but he had quite the dust-up with a butcher's son who was bullying a kitten. Julie swooned when she heard this anecdote.)

ciao

Once Upon a Time, a St. David's Day in Italy

My favorite St. David's Day (March 1) memory is a daffodil quest in southern Italy. I was visiting friends for a few weeks, near Naples. One of this delightful duo was shy about his southern accent & still-tentative English. My southern dialect--forget it; "regular Italian" - it kept slipping into French. Our Italian-speaking link was doing something important --foraging for dinner ingredients. Me? Of course, I was obsessed with flowers & on this weekend, daffodils. I forgot the Italian word, if I ever knew it. Finally after squeaking out 'spring, 'yellow,' & I don't remember what else in Italian, S. lit up & said, "trombone?" I, being an ass, said,"No, no. Trombone? What? No that's an instrument in inglese." Finally, slow me, oh. Daffodils. They are trumpet-shaped--ah.

The sight of an older man pretend-playing a horn instrument & a younger, somewhat exasperated English-speaking woman performing the universal hand-to-head circling motion amused a bunch of bored children with no immediate interests except a Saturday gelato. We made a little bow to the kids, & slunk away. After the forager returned, she explained what was what (after laughing a bit too much--ahem), & S. became obsessed with the idea that I should have trombone. I was embarrassed that I had not only called him crazy in a public market, but now I had given him a new mission. He's one of those lovely people around whom one should be careful to express any wish that he could possibly (& maybe not even possibly) fulfill.

Later that evening, as I fussed with the sitting room brazier, tossing in clementine peels to achieve the most fragrant scent, I looked up & there he was in the doorway, holding a gigantic bunch of the longest-stemmed daffodils I'd ever seen. Before or since. I don't know where or when he got them that day, but being an Italian he possessed a sense of the dramatic moment & thus waited for a post-dinner flourish.

Here are some lovely links to a celebration of St. David's Day weekend in Rome (yes, yes), the end of which involves daffodil distribution. Also, here is a link to a current National Museum of Wales exhibit: Italian Memories in Wales.

cariad & ciao

[photograph of Sophia Loren, I should look so good, via If It's Hip, It's Here; Scented Alley in Naples by golden puppy via flickr]

Week's End - Ode to Rome

John Keats died in Rome on 23 February 1821. I may not post next week but could not let the occasion pass without comment. As reported previously, I have embarrassed at least one relative in the Keats-Shelley House & at the Protestant cemetery. I feel less an idiot upon reading that no less a personage than Oscar Wilde prostrated himself for 25 minutes at the grave. (I'm making my way--at last--through Andrew Motion's biography of Keats.)

Giampaolo Macorig's beautiful photograph would have been Keats's view as he walked on the Pincio those last few months. The image of his signature is from the Keats-Shelley House & the organization's website is looking quite spiffy these days; do take a virtual visit. It's very much a destination for writers (& others) living in & visiting Rome. The story of the acquisition of the house is one of cooperation among Anglophones in Rome. (For once. Ahem.)

And finally, here is a sweet article I just saw in the Observer by a reporter who went to Rome with his girlfriend--in search of Romance (& Keats). It has a much happier ending than that of John & Fanny.

Update: Thursday, 25 Feb. (Read in whiny voice.) If we don't lose power (again!), I'll be back next week. Maybe Saturday.

Carnevale di Venezia - Arancione

In haste & confusion I forgot to post a few photographs from Venice's Carnevale. These are also on the GG blog...orange (& one leaning to red but still...) From generous waxOr's photostream. Bella, bella. (And you are saved from more Keats & Camus. For now.)

Island Iris

[photograph on Mykonos by lovely Miki**]

Lucille Clifton

Come celebrate with me/That every day/Something has tried to kill me/And has failed. ~Lucille Clifton

Beyond upset. Just found out. Here's a link. Funeral arrangements are pending. (I'm still in exile but hope to be home later today.) Update: Here's a poem written for Lucille, by Grace Cavalieri.

[photograph via famouspoetsandpoems]

Week's End - Love Minus Zero/No Limit

Song lyrics & photo have no connection. The title popped into my head & it won't go away. Hate when that happens. Good weekend to all. [Blue snow in Vermont photograph by Paul Moody]