I am definitely still sick. Everything about my head that can hurt appears to be hurting.
This morning I had my first non-nightmare in weeks. It was incredibly frustrating. I dreamed that I went to see a kind of variety program incorporating silent and classic film—not at the Somerville, I think it was a dream-version of the Chevalier Theatre in Medford—and the stage component included a Leslie Howard impersonator. I suppose at this point I should have guessed it was a dream, but at the time I just thought it was awesome. Leslie Howard in film star mode rather than private life, so we're talking white tie and tails rather than tweeds and trenchcoats, but they had the fair hair and the quizzical profile and the long-lidded eyes and something very like the voice, by turns dry and dreaming. There was some audience interaction, which now reminds me of Pygmalion but didn't when I was watching it. It wasn't until I saw the actor offstage, still in costume, that I realized they were physically female. We had a conversation about pre-Code Hollywood and British musicals and I invited her to the next silent-with-sound at the Somerville and we were bonding cheerfully when I woke up. I don't even remember her name now. I'm looking at enough loss in my ordinary life, I don't need to get it from dreams. And it was a nice conversation.
1. Speaking of silent movies at the Somerville, I keep forgetting to mention that Rex Ingram's The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921) is screening in November. Pop-culturally, this is the movie that shot Rudolph Valentino to stardom and popularized the tango in the United States. Personally, I have an interest in it because Valentino's co-star was Alice Terry née Taaffe. I only learned about her last month. It's definitely the same family and she seems to have been very clear about the pronunciation, which we associate with my father's branch of the family in this country. I consider this fortuitous timing.
2. Speaking of movies in general, it appears that Tilda Swinton is playing a punk musician in the upcoming A Bigger Splash (2015) and has given an interview to AnOther Magazine in the persona of her character, accompanied by photos that look like this. I kind of want to see this movie immediately.
3. Speaking of art that isn't movies, the Strange Horizons fund drive continues apace. The latest published tier of bonus content comprises the first three poems: Jane Yolen's "The Truth of Briars," Sasha Kim's "The Changeling's Gambit," and Carlos Hernandez's "Saturn Devouring His Young." If you want the rest of the bonus poetry and the podcast, donate! Also, as someone who was just blown away by "The Vishakanya's Choice," I can confirm that you really want to unlock the story by Roshani Chokshi.
I started packing up my office last night. I've moved out eight boxes of CDs and DVDs. The cats ran around the room afterward crying for their familiar topography, their nests and hiding places. They're really helping.
This morning I had my first non-nightmare in weeks. It was incredibly frustrating. I dreamed that I went to see a kind of variety program incorporating silent and classic film—not at the Somerville, I think it was a dream-version of the Chevalier Theatre in Medford—and the stage component included a Leslie Howard impersonator. I suppose at this point I should have guessed it was a dream, but at the time I just thought it was awesome. Leslie Howard in film star mode rather than private life, so we're talking white tie and tails rather than tweeds and trenchcoats, but they had the fair hair and the quizzical profile and the long-lidded eyes and something very like the voice, by turns dry and dreaming. There was some audience interaction, which now reminds me of Pygmalion but didn't when I was watching it. It wasn't until I saw the actor offstage, still in costume, that I realized they were physically female. We had a conversation about pre-Code Hollywood and British musicals and I invited her to the next silent-with-sound at the Somerville and we were bonding cheerfully when I woke up. I don't even remember her name now. I'm looking at enough loss in my ordinary life, I don't need to get it from dreams. And it was a nice conversation.
1. Speaking of silent movies at the Somerville, I keep forgetting to mention that Rex Ingram's The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921) is screening in November. Pop-culturally, this is the movie that shot Rudolph Valentino to stardom and popularized the tango in the United States. Personally, I have an interest in it because Valentino's co-star was Alice Terry née Taaffe. I only learned about her last month. It's definitely the same family and she seems to have been very clear about the pronunciation, which we associate with my father's branch of the family in this country. I consider this fortuitous timing.
2. Speaking of movies in general, it appears that Tilda Swinton is playing a punk musician in the upcoming A Bigger Splash (2015) and has given an interview to AnOther Magazine in the persona of her character, accompanied by photos that look like this. I kind of want to see this movie immediately.
3. Speaking of art that isn't movies, the Strange Horizons fund drive continues apace. The latest published tier of bonus content comprises the first three poems: Jane Yolen's "The Truth of Briars," Sasha Kim's "The Changeling's Gambit," and Carlos Hernandez's "Saturn Devouring His Young." If you want the rest of the bonus poetry and the podcast, donate! Also, as someone who was just blown away by "The Vishakanya's Choice," I can confirm that you really want to unlock the story by Roshani Chokshi.
I started packing up my office last night. I've moved out eight boxes of CDs and DVDs. The cats ran around the room afterward crying for their familiar topography, their nests and hiding places. They're really helping.
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