…to start a Monday?
Sorry, but this is must-watch, even though you can feel yourself becoming stupider as you listen to this tool. Chu’s laugh is priceless; like he’s thinking: “Oh yeah, Obama warned me I’d have to deal with these mouth-breathers….”
You can’t shake ’em. Sometimes, it seems like everything belongs to the past. Recedes into sepia. And you begin to count how many people who shaped you have disappeared. How do you go forward? What should you do with the time ahead? Should you move on or cling and cherish? Can you do both? Living in the present with a head full of shadows, as though cast by drifting smoke.
I think of my parents’ generation who lived through that godawful war, so much…unbelievable…loss, yet they carried on. That sadness though, it clung to the plastic and pastel and finned cars and sweet music. Like the black line thrown by a flashbulb, just a fraction behind, and somewhere in the eyes of old photographs lies a hidden darkness.
It takes a lifetime to recognize it. And then–ha! surprise!–it’s too late to say: I understand. I get it.
And you wouldn’t anyway. You’d just know. Because that’s the way they got through it. You’d just sit quietly, joke, talk about the weather.
There’ll be blue birds over
The white cliffs of Dover
Tomorrow, just you wait and see
We went to Pompeii in the morning, arrived around 9:30. The sky was clear, but there was a bit of haze, so there were good shadows and colors but also good detail as there wasn’t too much contrast. I didn’t have any particular idea in mind when I was shooting, and it wasn’t until I got home that I realized I’d kind of instinctually used doors and windows to frame one another, and, along with the detail afforded by the G10, I ended up pretty pleased with the results. I’m still working on cropping, optimizing, and printing the photos, but I’m kind of hoping I can make some kind of series out of it. Anyway, here’s a few of the Pompeii shots. It’s a weirdly magical place, both beautiful and tragic. I wouldn’t want to be alone there at night.
I’m working through a wealth of images from Italy–it’s literally a photographer’s paradise. (And let’s take a moment to extend our heartfelt sympathy to the lovely people of Italy at this very difficult time.) It’s going to take me awhile before I’ll get the best of the Italy pictures together, but here’s a handful just from Rome. All were taken with the fabulous Canon G10. If you click on the image, you can see it in greater detail.
I wish that each season, every artistic director would take a deep breath and program at least one play that truly scares the Holy Fucking Shit out of them. Not some “safe” dangerous play that’s a little controversial or has a bit of nudity or a naughty word or two. Something brand new, raw and newly hatched, or seldom produced, obscure and bizarre–something so far out on the edge, so utterly dangerous and subversive and deep into the ozone that they wake up in cold sweats night after night, thinking: This could be it. This one could lose my theatre.
Just one. Even as a late night or a single performance.
Once a year, I want every theatre to sufficiently give a damn to roll the big dice. And, when the lights come up, I want audiences to sit paralyzed in their seats, afraid to move. And I want it to become as much a tradition as Dickens at Christmas. What? You didn’t do a dangerous show this year? What the hell’s wrong with you? Pussy.
Is that really so fucking much to ask?
Sure, we’re doomed, and Bob Dylan’s new album will kill us all, but he still earns the quote of the day. It may sound simple, but you have to have been there to know it:
Inspiration is hard to come by. You have to take it where you find it.