When the sun goes down and the die is cast

[sovay]

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.

Comments

[ap-aelfwine.livejournal.com]

... who as of this afternoon has two legal parents.

Mazel tov to them! That's excellent news.

I've never noticed flowering trees smelling like fish before. Now I'm wondering if there are any of that sort in New York or some other place where I could smell them.

I will come back with some more of my art tomorrow.

I'm glad of this. I hope all goes well.

[sovay]

Mazel tov to them! That's excellent news.

They rock.

I've never noticed flowering trees smelling like fish before. Now I'm wondering if there are any of that sort in New York or some other place where I could smell them.

I should think so. They certainly existed in New Haven. It's one of the reasons I find the Bradford pear a plausible contender; it's not a native species, it's just one of those ubiquitous ornamental urban things.