And ghosts walk in the fire of angels
So this afternoon I met
rushthatspeaks and
jinian at Rodney's in Central Square and then we met
ajodasso and
rinue at Toscanini's and then we shot B-roll for a science fiction film. I have never been part of even a microbudget film before. We dressed for the future out of our own clothes, some scarves and props.
derspatchel pointed us toward MIT's Simmons Hall. Apparently the correct term is not extras, it's background, and if I turn up for two seconds as background in an offworld montage, I will consider this an afternoon entirely well spent. If I don't turn up for two seconds as background in an offworld montage, I will consider it an afternoon entirely well spent. It was like silent film. It was a lot of fun.
And then I stopped off at Blue Shirt Café in Davis Square and helped Rob sort pages. There was an exciting moment when I realized I'd left my four-dollar record of Songs by Tom Lehrer (1953) in Rush's car. It was retrieved and presented to its proper owner. I hung on to the play by Peter Ustinov. (The ninety-four-cent shelf at Rodney's is no slouch. I only left Christopher Fry's The Dark Is Light Enough (1954) because I couldn't remember if I already owned it.)
And then I got home to discover that my poem "In the Firebird Museum" is now online at Stone Telling, with a haunting illustration by Yuri Dojc. This is the one I wrote the same night as my poem currently in inkscrawl: I think it was meant at the time for
rose_lemberg, but it found its way to her in the end. This magazine gets better with every issue.
(Discovered earlier, but deserving of post: Jeff VanderMeer writes about Beyond Binary and interviews
britmandelo.)
Today, in short: pretty damn fine.
And then I stopped off at Blue Shirt Café in Davis Square and helped Rob sort pages. There was an exciting moment when I realized I'd left my four-dollar record of Songs by Tom Lehrer (1953) in Rush's car. It was retrieved and presented to its proper owner. I hung on to the play by Peter Ustinov. (The ninety-four-cent shelf at Rodney's is no slouch. I only left Christopher Fry's The Dark Is Light Enough (1954) because I couldn't remember if I already owned it.)
And then I got home to discover that my poem "In the Firebird Museum" is now online at Stone Telling, with a haunting illustration by Yuri Dojc. This is the one I wrote the same night as my poem currently in inkscrawl: I think it was meant at the time for
(Discovered earlier, but deserving of post: Jeff VanderMeer writes about Beyond Binary and interviews
Today, in short: pretty damn fine.

no subject
(An aunt-in-law in Wellywood is background in The Hobbit, and a colleague on the trip last week showed me the most expensive short film ever made, which manages to pack a full-realism Round Table Grail quest with evil!Galahad inversion into 15 minutes.)
edit: Found the film: Perceval. Spanish production, entirely in Latin.
And I endorse as said above: that's a grand illustration.
(A minor query; supernova, rather than supernovae?)
no subject
For maybe a minute! Maybe! It's out of my hands!
. . . If we make it into the finished film, believe me, I will let everybody know.
which manages to pack a full-realism Round Table Grail quest with evil!Galahad inversion into 15 minutes.
Dude.
Spanish production, entirely in Latin.
Okay, fifteen minutes? I can spare that time.
And I endorse as said above: that's a grand illustration.
Thank you!
(A minor query; supernova, rather than supernovae?)
I had it in the singular as a kind of abstract noun: it was approved as such by the editors. If your professional opinion is that it really sounds funky, I'll change it in reprints.
re: a/ae
no subject
No, supernovae is the correct plural; I will conclude it doesn't work in the singular here.