"I am prepared. I'll never cry. I'll sit and stare."
And today's stale Hell, which was yesterday (as we've already moved right along):
Saturday afternoon, 5:24 p.m.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,056 words on Chapter 5 of Cherry Bomb, which - I think - makes yesterday my best day with the book since December 5, 2014.
Last night, we watched Nicolas Roeg's masterful Don't Look Now (1973), because Spooky got it in my head. I have to say, the fuck-awful soundtrack, by Pino Donaggio, does it's best to ruin the film. Like so many soundtracks of the era, it seems intent on reducing everything to a porn film shot in a doctor's waiting room. Also, speaking of porn, if ever a movie was stopped cold by a gratuitous sex scene if would be the interminable intercourse between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland that the beginning of Don't Look Now almost doesn't survive.
We also watched Guy Ritchie's Snatch (2000) again, a film a adore unconditionally, one that I have studied for it's brilliant dialogue. Snatch is, truly, the British Pulp Fiction.
But the high point of yesterday was putting Hubero's harness on him and taking his out to play in the snowstorm (that gave up several more inches):
All photographs Copyright © 2014 by Caitlín R. Kiernan
And now, Now.
I Am the Smallest in the Crowd,
Aunt Beast
Saturday afternoon, 5:24 p.m.
Yesterday, I wrote 1,056 words on Chapter 5 of Cherry Bomb, which - I think - makes yesterday my best day with the book since December 5, 2014.
Last night, we watched Nicolas Roeg's masterful Don't Look Now (1973), because Spooky got it in my head. I have to say, the fuck-awful soundtrack, by Pino Donaggio, does it's best to ruin the film. Like so many soundtracks of the era, it seems intent on reducing everything to a porn film shot in a doctor's waiting room. Also, speaking of porn, if ever a movie was stopped cold by a gratuitous sex scene if would be the interminable intercourse between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland that the beginning of Don't Look Now almost doesn't survive.
We also watched Guy Ritchie's Snatch (2000) again, a film a adore unconditionally, one that I have studied for it's brilliant dialogue. Snatch is, truly, the British Pulp Fiction.
But the high point of yesterday was putting Hubero's harness on him and taking his out to play in the snowstorm (that gave up several more inches):
All photographs Copyright © 2014 by Caitlín R. Kiernan
And now, Now.
I Am the Smallest in the Crowd,
Aunt Beast