The way is dark, the light is dim, but now there's you, me, her, and him
It's been quite rainy and windy outside for a while. I love weather like this.
Going to see a French film (called Paris, Je T'aime) at seven. It looks really interesting and artful. All of the French films I've seen, really, seem artful. Granted, they amount to about two, but still. Diva was grand and operatic and very blue-colored. And Le Roi de Coeurs ("The King of Hearts") was fantastically eccentric, eloquent, and musical. Both of them had little dialogue, which increased the effect of the striking sets and scenes.
I have reached page 125 of Chesapeake! Rejoicing!
The book is actually starting to draw me in now. I'm developing empathy for Edmund Steed and his family (and before that, John Smith, the tiny but energetic captain). There was a funny little moment early in Voyage 2 where Smith, stung badly by a stingray and certain of his death, went to sit in a newly dug grave and dangled his feet over the edge introspectively. It was just such an "OMGLOLZ" moment. I need to draw it.
How many times have I listened to Into the Woods now? Not as many as Assassins, certainly (I've been giving that one a break for fear of overdoing it!), but quite a few. The music never gets old.
Sondheim, Thou art God of Musickal Theatre, verily.