29 April, 2008
26 April, 2008
25 April, 2008
24 April, 2008
f: It's a dump
well uh uh. no it isn't
and you know i hate to be proven wrong
best caravaggio: TICK!
Skinny dip in the local fjords: tick!
local wine: tick tick tick. excellent
food: not bad at all
arias sung out of tune in company of personal opera conductor: just the one
prehistoric sites to rival stone henge: two
local hallucinogenics: am sure there are more than a handful
wild rockets pissed on by rabid dogs: many
cultah: holds its own
local eccentrics: the entire population
socks n sandals colonial brit tourists: well........
lady v's half sisters: NONE
22 April, 2008
20 April, 2008
the 60s as i love them
as my good friend ganzy put it:
we were born too late, ganzy. make mine a rye on the rocks while you're at it. and i would do don - and the jewess - in a NY minute.
never were truer words spoken.
seriously though, this series is devastatingly good! douglas sirk is smiling.
Commitments, as HBO's "Tell Me You Love Me" demonstrates, often are hard to make. Even so, it's imperative to make one to this series because it doesn't really find itself until the second and third episodes. That's when you feel and recognize the beauty and the pain that Cynthia Mort smartly and sensitively portrays in her fiercely honest examination of sex in relationships.
The early buzz on this series largely was based on the first episode, which tends to use sex the way a carnival barker uses a spiel: to get you into the tent. Mort is so eager to show how sex is both vital and corrosive that initially she goes overboard. Graphic scenes of sex in the premiere rival those in soft porn, and the visual shock distracts from the larger theme.
But stick around, and what starts as a modest character study punctuated by holy-cow nudity turns into a brilliant depiction of sexual conflict, frustration and dysfunction - Hollywood Reporter
18 April, 2008
17 April, 2008
it is with more than a faint smidgen of smug self-satisfaction that i tell you all that the mermaid on my back will one day be worth millions, which means that instead of trading up a kidney a few years down the line i can always flay my back for some extra dosh. because, you see dearest friends, our oats is well on the way to becoming that rare thing: a painter that actually, gasp, gets paid.
after her radical career change, from bloomberg lackey to an on-set jack-of-all-trades, she is coming into her own and i expect in little to no time you will be spotting her work in set designs around the world. In the meantime...
hanging in the van der woodsen dining room.
a rather fetching sketch.
artist? that i will never tell.
X o X o
16 April, 2008
the bronte sisters
a one-act play
lady v: Just went for epic run on heath in last ditch
tempt to firm thighs. Failed.
pod: wish i could have been with you on the heath, chugging along. instead was at villa pamphilj where there is a path called the bronte sisters. i wet myself and got misty eyed. tried to explain to my companion, who sadly was clueless on the subject. i despair.
lady v:I want to go to Villaa Pamphilj immediately. How can one not understand Emily. Utterly ridic
pod: i did try. the imaginary world of gondal. branwell rubbing himself off the painting. the mysticism. the death. despair. solitude. got to the point where i have to assume one KNOWS these crucial details.
lady v: Just had to do a quick post myself in frenzy on Bronte loving. Quite right.
If they don't know by now, well, I give up....
14 April, 2008
quick reflections. i do love italy
1. 15 years ago the electoral law was changed to try and transform italy into a two-party system. that didn't work. in 2005, the law gets changed back to what it was but the italians, by finally voting with a modicum of intelligence, wipe out all the small parties that screwed with this country for 60 years.
2. For the first time since 1946, the communist party does not hold a seat in parliament. they deserve it. for turning the hard rock cafe, bastion of U.S. capitalism, into their press center. This is a watershed moment. The demise of the biggest and longest-lasting Communist party in the Western Europe.. and so ignominiously, too. Now that is a story.
3. While the League is the news of the day, I for one feel it would be a mistake to give them too much weight. Certainly they have Berlusconi by the balls and they can impose their will and shape government policy, which doesn't bode well. But in the grand scheme of things a vote for them (just as a vote for Di Pietro on the Left) is a vote of protest. Italians wanted to show their disatisfaction and still vote for one of the two main parties. The message is clear: we're mad as hell and we won't take it any more. (see below)
well well well
first off, the above is a delightful film and i wish to impose it on anyone that wafts to the house from now on. as a rite of passage if you will
just came back from three glorious days in the country house. maude and i. me and maude. alone. pure bliss. as you all know i was on day three of the fast and the weekend was going to be the deal breaker. i would either succumb and binge on films and booze or go completely krause and rip the house inside out in an effort to put ORDER.
alas....the latter scenario materialized. i went completely manic and stripped down to my underwear, sucking at green tea, i overturned everything in sight in the ultimate spring clean of the century, uncovering even lady v's long lost earring. to the sounds of bach's cello concerto and wagner's parceval i scrubbed and scrubbed. not content, i had to dust every book and put them in order by language and then separate the contemporary fiction from the classics and creating a special place just for the faeries. the same fate occured to CDs, wich were alphabatized and also allotted special sections. and the linen was refolded and filed with labels and ranked by colour. maude looked on most perplexed and scrambled around the field rolling in shit and getting mauled by marcella's cat. daniele, who after 4 years seems to be as smitten as ever, deliverd junk mail at 11pm at night and was swiftly sent back down the hill. not content and still exploding with energy, i decided to take a jog in my pyjama bottoms. this hasn't be seen since the days i was trying to impress 12 year old michael clooney at barcelona british school. yes, dear reader, it is that long ago.
now am bracing myself for an invigorating all nighter writing up election results, providing analsyis, sending flashes and of course chugging down the green tea.
be afraid, be very afraid. and curse the day you met me.
12 April, 2008
yesterday was an ordeal. sitting through berlusconi talking 24/7 right through to the midnight deadline when campaigning formally ends was torture. sitting through a dinner with the whiff of french cheeses coming in waves was not easy. but here i am, cigarette dangling from my mouth on the frappa fast. non-alcohohic liquids, teas and popping vitaminc for its diuretic qualities.
if i can survive today i can survive anything. even a berlusconi victory.
10 April, 2008
jesus did it for 40 days in the desert
am doing it for a week in testaccio
doesn't quite have the same ring to it
then one is the son of god
the other is daughter of la tiz
i go into this not terribly prepared. and going into an election
but i feel atoning for the sin the country is about to commit
in re-electing silvio is morally fitting
09 April, 2008
Now, with the recent announcement that Polaroid will stop making instant film next year, the miracle is coming to an official end. Something else is slipping away from us in our frictionless virtual world.
am officially very upset and since these days am taking a break form the booze. i have drowned sorrows in carbs which is making me even more upset and as of tomorrow am back on the prosec.
but seriously folks. what is wrong with this world when something as magical as a quick-trigger-flick-and-voila-blurry-images-unfold (that you can clasp and hold) is stripped away from you. i cannot live in such a world (ok it's the carbs talking here). please stock up to take to country retreat, where i shall retire one day ten inches deep in my polaroids. i plan to hoarde and nest. see above for what is needed.
underpaid and soon to be overweight
Clearly, this will be the highlight of my 2009. Terrence Malick's latest foray into cinema. The premise is wonderful: In a mystical world of folklore, several individuals embrace in a race to find the Tree of Life, said to give immortality, fertility, and other supernatural powers. (imdb.com)
My ONLY problem is WHY oh WHY must it star freaking Brad Pitt.
08 April, 2008
07 April, 2008
06 April, 2008
04 April, 2008
one-act play in the workplace
steve: so shall we pitch our story for best?
f: sure, i already sent back positive reader feedback to clinch the deal
steve: what is it?
f: ``Nice story on italy'' from big fund manager type. tons of money etc.
steve: oh good. just goes to show that the good ideas come from the
bottom and not the top.
f: yes. well. this guy is actually an email stalker who i've been stringing along for a couple of weeks thinking he might come in handy
steve: you turn them on with your talk of flagship carriers, failed takeovers and italian stupidity
f: pretty much
02 April, 2008
so today i got a random e-mail from good friend, and de facto berliner
(of say-no-more-how's-your-motor fame)
patrick: you would so love Bucharest
Reply: in romania?!!
patrick: oh yes. it's so ramshackle, crumbling, full of rogues,
miscreants, gypsies and stray dogs.
Reply: lovely to know what my pals think of me
patrick: it struck me last night as i was being trailed by a mangy beast
in a crumbled alleyway on the way to the Romanian Intelligence
Headquarters. felt like i was being watched by vampires...