In case the feathers hit the fan. Yikes!

Bertrand Tavernier Director

Phillipe Noiret

French films are the best.

Life is hard sometimes and loneliness is brutal. I feel that way right now.

I want to cry and can’t.

And then I think of Rosie, her smile , her blonde hair in an Audrey Hepburn pixie cut, the full sleeve tattoo on her right arm.

A perfect companion on a trip to Hell.

There is a big empty place in my chest where my heart should be. Mr X

I’ve mentioned her before, Audrey Hepburn.

Being infatuated with a movie star long deceased, is part of the magic of celebrity media culture. I can watch and listen to her sing Moon River, Johnny Mercer and Henry Mancini’s masterpiece, and I am that adolescent who first heard her sixty-plus years ago..

It’s a shame the cigarettes killed you,

Cara Mia

1) Audrey Hepburn

2) Marilyn Monroe

The Spirit Of Mardi Gras is this Baby Dolly found in the King Cake I bought the other day. I guess I should buy another King Cake to show its splendour.

So Trump wants to rename. The Gulf of Mexico The Gulf of America. OK . But this so-called Business Genius is missing the real opportunity present. Why not sell the naming rights to the Gulf of Mexico to the highest bidder. What’s to keep the Gulf of Mexico from being the Gulf of Budweiser? We could sell the naming rights to Hoover Dam to the Pampers Dam Lake Superior could be Molson Lake Superior.

Wild Heart : Natalie Clifford Barney And The Decadence of Literary Paris , Suzanne Rodriguez-Hunter

“That’s nice“, my readers sarcastically think. After all, I am an adult , possessing all of my intellectual faculties. Natalie Clifford Barney was one of the the bright lights in the constellation of 1920-30’s literary stars.

Strangely , I feel as if I have returned from a lost world. I did use my Kindle. There’s little difference between an e-book and a “real” book.

I had the television turned off during my reading session Now I have the set turned on, as I await a train , #98 The Silver Meteor, New York Bound. How quaint and strange is this tottering relic making its daily journey to Manhattan, an ever fading lost world. The culture no longer possesses a capital in physical space and time. New York could exist merely on a server, as does the e-book I just completed.

Better to not think about the cyber world too much. Let her fuel the fire of my imagination and then leave her to her repose. We now move from a shadowy digital world of images on computer screens to a fanciful universe in our brains. We move from one representation to another, believing them real.

Caution: Don’t think about these images too much.

I suppose this is not true insomnia. I did sleep for a couple of hours, before I awoke out of stimulation and curiosity and desire.

Do I run away to New York to attempt to live in a city I can’t afford to live in? To be a writer in a garret in mimicry of La Bohème , to fall in love with a woman not my wife? Do I want to spend my final years as a fugitive from a John O’Hara novel? I could do worse, I suppose .