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When the sun goes down and the die is cast
I walked home tonight under flowering trees, including the kind that smell like fish. The sky around the moon in its mirrors of cloud was so blue, it looked like a night scene from a silent film, where the sun is plainly shining on the far side of the trees. I could never tell what time it was in Dreyer's Vampyr (1932), but then again neither could the protagonist.
It was Ludwig Wittgenstein's birthday today. I will rewatch Jarman's film for him as soon as I can retrieve it from its box. Last winter, I wrote a poem about him for my godchild, who as of this afternoon has two legal parents. Mazel tov to them and all the ghosts that hang around their house, difficult and kindly.
I will come back with some more of my art tomorrow.
It was Ludwig Wittgenstein's birthday today. I will rewatch Jarman's film for him as soon as I can retrieve it from its box. Last winter, I wrote a poem about him for my godchild, who as of this afternoon has two legal parents. Mazel tov to them and all the ghosts that hang around their house, difficult and kindly.
I will come back with some more of my art tomorrow.