stories, some that are still being formed, some that went over the transom in the last century
The "Brit a Day" series
What does a months-long parade of attractive British men have to do with fiction, you might well ask? These gentlemen have inspired some lovely scenes, part of the life I live in my head. Over time, some of these scenes reach out to one another and begin to form a story. For the present, each one of these pictures provides a writing prompt for me, a way to keep me writing with a sense of passion and narrative, even when the stories are not yet fully formed.
Rather than being decisive about the end or move of ABAD, I'm going to just say that ABAD is on a hiatus of undetermined length. I have enjoyed doing it, and I'm proud of my own commitment to posting almost every day for almost three and a half years, but my passion for it is touching the low water mark at the moment. There's no excuse for doing a bad job of it, so I'm going to let it go for now.
So...this isn't good-bye, just an exceptionally mushy post.
If I have to leave a parting thought here for a while, though, it would be this:
A few years back, I developed a crush on the charming and charismatic frontman of a British band called Art Brut. His lyrics blew me away. They were funny and ironic and seemed to expose every fear a 20-something young man could have--which are not that different from the fears a 40-something old woman has. I reached out to him as a friend on Myspace, that antique social medium that revolutionized my six-degrees-of-separation world. Now there could be one degree. To make a long story short, over the years I have met Eddie, hung out with Eddie, drunk vodka-and-apple-juice cocktails and bad wine with him. I have met [through email] Eddie's mom in England [she's exactly 2 months older than I am]. Two of Eddie's paintings hang in my house. He says that the story I've told him of how my preschooler misconstrued the words to one of his songs has become a part of his patter onstage.
Friday was Eddie's birthday. I emailed him my good wishes. He emailed me back his thanks. My point is--never doubt your heart. You can feel a connection through pictures, music, video....to someone you would never have met in your 'normal' life or perhaps will never meet outside of the internet. But the connection is no less real.
So...if you're reading this--I'm connecting with you. And isn't that cool?
James May, what am I going to do with almost 500 pictures of you saved? That really is the question.
I'm struggling to take my next step. ABAD evolved from a fiction writing blog to justify my love affair with the ease of clicking and saving anything and everything pictured online. It hasn't exactly taken on a life of its own--I get about 3 hits a day, I think. I've thought about moving the ops over to Tumblr where the ease of access might give me more viewers and thus more reason to continue, but most of these images come from Tumblr in the first place. So that would be pretty pointless.
If you really are out there, and you have an opinion, comment or email your thoughts. I think I'll take another week to think about it.
It's a bad sign that I have forgotten to post on my beloved blog for 2 days is a row. I'm going to take a little break to figure out what A Brit a Day should do next--and I mean a tiny little break, because I'm sure I'll be posting something James May-ish on Monday. Just try and stop me!
Two of the HP movies were directed by directors who only directed one of the HP movies....erm, you know what I mean. One was Mike Newell [above, on the set of HP4] and the other was Alphonse Cuaron, who directed HP3, 'Prisoner of Azkahban.' I thought they were both brilliant--they are my 2 favorites of the bunch.
As I was telling my friend Lu, the tragedy of 'Henry V', and Henry V, is that for all the hand-of-God achievements he made as a warrior and a king, it was all gone to hell by the time Henry VI got done with England and what was left of France. And because I can't help myself when it comes to pointing out the parallels in certain aspects of our culture, it brings to mind the poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley, 'Ozymandias,' that recently came into the spotlight when the producers of 'Breaking Bad' used it in a trailer. The final lines read--
And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
In other words, once you're dead, it's unlikely that there will be anyone around to defend your legacy indefinitely, so get over yourself.
But there's no reason why we can't enjoy the Shakepeare/Hiddleston legacy for the rest of the year. When 'The Hollow Crown' aired in Britain last summer, a kind Tumblrite made these wonderful wallpapers. If you like to plan ahead, they make a great slideshow for your desktop.
I only have about 2 dozen images up now, and I have a looooong way to go. I think I've mentioned this before--the images are from the slides I inherited from my dad, and a few of my own from Europe in the 80s. Eventually, I'll be concentrating on the ones my dad took for his personal use during his travels with the USDA. Some of them [mainly ones I haven't posted yet] have historical significance, IMO. I'll try to add 3-4 items a week to the shop.
These pictures must have been taken at the same Top Gear Live event or at least on the same day. Either way, hairstyling and photography were both top notch that day--Mr. May looks more radiant than ever.
The journey from Prince to King continues tonight on 'The Hollow Crown.' Everyone already knows this, but the three plays were filmed in reverse order. That means that this luscious red lather jacket had to be de-aged throughout the filming.
I could use a look back at Desmond Hume from LOST in the worst possible way today. The dog [and I mean literally the dog, not my husband] has already gotten so excited that he tried to rip my jeans off. And it's only 0900.
Today's Brit is my mother's stepfather, my Daddy Rex [far right], a native of Dunstable, England. He came to the US as a college student before the First World War and fought in that war for the US Army. In 1960, he married my grandmother, a month or two after I was born, and then became a delightful fixture in my life.
Rex is in many of the family pictures I have recently had converted to digital files. I'm opening a shop on Etsy to display my favorites and sell digital copies. My Etsy shop is going to be called Our Kodachrome Years--in the next few days I'll be posting a link here so you can check it out!