bachelorette

One Alaska listener tweeted me a link to a wonderful Bjork’s video I had forgotten, the one for “Bachelorette”. I fear that the same that happens to her in the second part of the video will happen to me, when her publisher becomes a tree and the lines of her book vanish one by one until all the pages turn white. But for now we are still in the first part of the video, when everything is Alice, wonderland, each magic embedded in the next.

she’s back!

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The camera is home again, after 5 weeks in repairment. Even the tiniest problem has been solved, and it just feels like new. I am now allowed to fall in love with black and white again, I missed it so much and it’s definitely the right setting for winter. With the sheer joy of handling it again, combined with the typical luck of the beginner, here is the first picture of the new year of this blog. This happens only when the Beast is clear that behind the eye of the camera there is my eye. It goes with a slight throat chirp. Today I’m also handing the final draft of the book to my first reader. I am prepared to make a lot of adjustments, I only hope it’s convincing, so cross fingers. To avoid getting stuck and depressed, I have rearranged my desk and shelves with all of my notebooks, ready to plunge into something new to write. I’m taking the coldest months to make up my mind what it is I really feel I have to do, and then I’ll tackle a new book.

Gena

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Cassavetes. Pure genius. Gena Rowlands in “A woman under the influence” is a dragon of acting mastery, and the photography is exactly what I am seeking. Every frame is pure natural light, close-ups, huge depth of field, bokeh changing with every movement – the language of love.

it’s done!

finished-manuscript

It wasn’t exactly a holiday, but it was good enough to finish the last chapters of my book. Never before I have felt so full of energy and resolute and kept going so easily, despite the heat and some parts being really jumbled. The book just kind of snowballed and I only had to follow it. There were a lot of toasts from friends, it felt nice. I am now into Draft 3, which means a lot of polishing and cutting away almost 40% of what I’ve written. But it just feels good.

unseen

spiderweb

Look closer. There’s something. A light spiderweb hung on the branch. I was told today that in vegetable patches zucchini silently pair unseen, and new varieties are born. A lot seem to happen while we’re not watching, or we think we’re watching. Secret forces act with painstaking slowness. Suddenly, everything has changed.

at my feet

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On my walking route I was stopped by three lost people asking for directions: an old man, an Indian boy who was going to deliver a bunch of flowers, a man with a raspsberry tie who just got out of the Hotel Rio. Tiny cars, many closed shops, groups of tourists, the sky so blue it’s like being at sea, that serene breeze that makes you feel light and fresh, the audio of an old western morning rerun coming from behind the curtains of a window at ground floor. Then the trams power line broke down and everything stopped. Dozens of orange trams, discarded in squares and streets like broken toys, frozen in the moment the power got off, a silence unreal. Last night at dusk I found this sentence in John Cheever’s journals: “THE FIRST OF JUNE, AND THE WORLD THAT WAS NOT MINE YESTERDAY NOW LIES SPREAD OUT AT MY FEET, A SPLENDOR”.