Never see any morning glories
I took my camera out this afternoon and located two cherry trees not on our street.
On our street: a Bradford pear. Tonight I learned that's a cultivar of the Callery pear, under which name it is listed in the City of Somerville's Tree Inventory.
The magnolia has not yet achieved its leafy sea dragon phase.
I must have noticed this cherry tree down one of our side streets before, but I was so glad to see its cloud of blossom from the end of the block.
Tumbling against the sky.
And then another block over, another cherry tree!
I was so afraid I would miss their season.
The snowfield of plastic behind the high school. I'm pretty sure I read that eco-dystopia in the '80's.
I liked the brick rosette. A slight air of optical illusion.
At home, there were cats, little and big.
The blur of Autolycus.
Having bailed on April in Paris (1952) when the point of the comedy switched entirely to enforcing chastity until marriage, I went looking to see what else on TCM starred Doris Day and discovered Calamity Jane (1953). Is that movie a mess of gender trouble. It's not, like, Johnny Guitar (1954), but it may feature the single least convincing heterosexual endgame I have seen from its decade and its decade was rife with het pasted on yay. As the female leads were fixing up a cabin together, I yelled to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch, "You can tell it's a lesbian romance! They're using tools!" I assumed I recognized the exuberant "The Windy City" from Standing Room Only until my mother informed me that I had of course seen the film as a child, when I was exposed to a wide range of movie musicals, some of which I remember better than others. I could have done without the casual frontier racism, but otherwise, of all the things to forget.
On our street: a Bradford pear. Tonight I learned that's a cultivar of the Callery pear, under which name it is listed in the City of Somerville's Tree Inventory.
The magnolia has not yet achieved its leafy sea dragon phase.
I must have noticed this cherry tree down one of our side streets before, but I was so glad to see its cloud of blossom from the end of the block.
Tumbling against the sky.
And then another block over, another cherry tree!
I was so afraid I would miss their season.
The snowfield of plastic behind the high school. I'm pretty sure I read that eco-dystopia in the '80's.
I liked the brick rosette. A slight air of optical illusion.
At home, there were cats, little and big.
The blur of Autolycus.
Having bailed on April in Paris (1952) when the point of the comedy switched entirely to enforcing chastity until marriage, I went looking to see what else on TCM starred Doris Day and discovered Calamity Jane (1953). Is that movie a mess of gender trouble. It's not, like, Johnny Guitar (1954), but it may feature the single least convincing heterosexual endgame I have seen from its decade and its decade was rife with het pasted on yay. As the female leads were fixing up a cabin together, I yelled to
spatch, "You can tell it's a lesbian romance! They're using tools!" I assumed I recognized the exuberant "The Windy City" from Standing Room Only until my mother informed me that I had of course seen the film as a child, when I was exposed to a wide range of movie musicals, some of which I remember better than others. I could have done without the casual frontier racism, but otherwise, of all the things to forget.
no subject
Sexist as hell, but with a fantastic opening and some wonderful songs.
I like to imagine a sequel where Calamity and Bill go shooting things together.
no subject
I would have been a lot more put off by the sexism if the film had at all seemed to succeed in its argument that marrying a man is more naturally satisfying than being a shotgun messenger or a burlesque performer or any kind of gender transgression; I can't deal with Annie Get Your Gun, for example, but the queerness here never really fit back into its Production Code box.