Black Narcissus (1947), Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger.

Memories of Old Florida

Old Florida

The orange groves, rotting mangoes, Bok Tower, falling in the qaurries of Ocala, Disney, swimming in clear pools of spring water, the sound of cicadas hissing, eating fried fish served by ladies with beehives at Proctors Restaurant, John G's, sand stuck between your toes, alligators, dead possums with maggots, boardwalks, hurricane parties, cyprus swamps, pink pickled eggs served in paper, fried chicken with Crsytal hotsauce from a paper bag, Blue Front BBQ, key limes, burying dead lizards, poisonous snakes, Super Duper Super Market, Winn Dixie and the last Piggly Wiggly, Sister Noris, Roosevelt Elementary, barefoot postmen, O Street, Tamarind Ave., The Hut, Whitehall, heat and its partner humidity, Zora Neale Hurston, Mizner, Belle Glade, The Old Central High School, Lake Worth Pier, water skiing formations, okra, skin sticking to the car seat, Viscaya, ambrosia salad, Southern Belles at Cyprus Gardens...baby blue, soft yellow, pink and of course orange.

Belarus

Old Spas

I want to go to a spa, in the traditional sense, the old Vichy, something out of La Dolce Vita or A Death in Venice, minimum 3 months. Drink from the springs that cure tuberculosis. I need to recover. Whatever happened to this idea?

If I were a man

Still no sleep and doing the same day, new post thing. But if I were a man I would be Yves Saint-Laurent and Marcello Mastroianni and Nikola Tesla... all wrapped in one. Like a tasty, but curiously intellectual burrito.

L'Inconnue de la Seine

I can't sleep, as usual, and it occurred to me that I am closer to death now than I have ever been...an obvious statement. But it inspired me to look into death masks. I came across one of particular interest. It was called L'Inconnue de la Seine, or the Unknown Woman of the Seine. 

Her body was found in the river Seine at the Quai de Louvre in Paris. Her body exhibited no signs of violence, it had been suggested cause of death was suicide. According to the story, the pathologist at the morgue thought the woman to be so beautiful that he decided to take a plaster caste of her face. The plaster mould of the woman later became a popular fixture in "Bohemian" homes, although it's not clear how this transition occurred. But according to some her face inspired writers and actresses for years to come. Alvarez in his book on suicide titled, 'The Savage God', wrote "I am told a whole generation of German girls modeled their looks on her.".

This is my first post...

I feel the need to organize my thoughts. I used to keep things in little wooden boxes. Unfortunately I don't have those boxes with me. I'm all muddled up. It might help clear my head enough so I can start my work. Thank you Tina, I think this might work.